“Its time that we break up Umar.”
The words came out from her mouth as a matter of fact way.I still remember the day it all happened.It was a cold foggy morning,pleasant as it can be and had no signs of the upcomings of the day. She stood infront me with a cold face which even a serial murderer will be proud of.
“Its not that I don’t love you Umar but I have realised that the society will never understand.It never will.Its best and proper time for us to part ways and live as individuals.”
I stood there dumbfounded as no words came out from my mouth.My body was numb,the brain had stopped all operations as it was confused between dream and reality.
“I know you will not understand today.you will be angry,agitated,irritated on me but I had no option but to take this call.The child you are within,you will always believe that I have made it up because of your religion.Trust me Umar it was never the religion,I totally support your views.I have understood but the society will never will.A muslim and a hindu will be never accepted”
My eyes madly searching her face for one hint of a smile,a prank,a tease but all it soaked in was indifference.
“I love you Umar.Maybe not today but one day when you are mature enough you will surely understand”
With the above ultimatum she turned around and started walking back.I waited there,waited desperately for her to turn back with the naughty smile on her face saying,”Got scared na?”.
Not a single part of me moved nor did I have any sense till she slowly dissolved in the mist of people.Then I felt my first reaction as warm drops fell on my cheeks.
“but one day when you are mature enough you will surely understand”
25 years have passed since that day and still that “one day” has not come.Being a professor and a renowned personality in my field I surely would be mature enough.But even with all the intellectuals in my kitty,even today I fail to understand her decision.It was plain and simple a selfish way of quitting.A preplanned selfish treachery.
25 years I never gave this piece of memory any energy.Whenever it used to surge in the mind I would close all gates in fear of a flood.But today I couldn’t barricade the banks because time had a wonderful tide.I was asked by the school authorities of my own school to attend as a guest lecturer.When they asked which class I would choose to take on i couldn’t stop myself from saying 11 F.Its as if my lips didn’t listen to my command and it was confirmed.
11 f.The place it all began.the place I first met…um…um…my memory has erased her name I guess but her face is still etched in an hazy way.
Her round face,the golden brown hair with a few strands on her forehead and her bossy teacher attitude.I still remember how she used to spell out when saying anything important.She always wanted to be a teacher,a boss,a mistress.
“you are dumb Umar.dumb as in D U M B”..”Its beautiful.Beautiful as in B E A U T I……”
Had I only known then that she had spelt a nice way of leaving me after 5 years long relation.
I asked the driver the stop a few lanes before my school as I planned to walk the way. As I started on the way the cool morning air gripped me with a great touch of nostalgia. The lanes where I grew up as child, my friends, the peddlars, the street cricket and ofcourse her.
As I passed by the park I smiled.I could see me and her sitting there on a bench in the shade of the tree.What a childish conversation:
“If we have a boy we will name him Osman.If we have a daughter we will name her Tamanna”
How sweet were her ways and how true it seemed at that time.I never ever knew the intention that lay within.Surely was immature not to notice the act of a wonderful reality queen.
What act…
What “tamanna” (wish) she had.
I reached the school half an hour before the classes.My school.The playground was almost empty as a few students were loitering around with the darwans sitting and talking away.Huh.Todays generations.They always have a just in time approach.I still remember how I used to be the first in school to initiate the sound of the great hustle and bustle of the coming day.
She used to be first too.
Me in reaching, she in studies.
Instead of sitting in the staffroom I started walking towards the class. My class. The staircase,the corridors,the basins in the corner all welcomed me back gripping me and making me see mirages of my past.
Me running and jumping down the staircase,throwing water at each other at the wash basin,throwing chalks and there..there she was standing at the end of the corridor.Eyes strict,arms folded and noting down names of pranksters.Head girl she was and prankster was me.
As I walked in the class my steps guided me to tha last bench rather than stopping at the teachers desk. I sat down on the 2nd last where she used to sit.Memories started rushing in from all corners of the class and suddenly in the haze I could see her.I could actually see her standing infront me with the same eyes as if asking a question.
‘Excuse me sir.Who are you and what are you doing at my desk?”
Immediately I was brought back to reality.It was not a thought but there actually stood infront of me a girl who may be had the looks of her but surely not her. Embarrassed I stood up “Sorry dear lady. I am Umar your guest lecturer for today”
As I gave way to her she timidly made her apology and I walked back to my desk.
I sat down and slowly the class started filling it. As all the students settled down I stood up and the authority
staff gave my introduction. After the applause calmed I started my usual way.
On the board I wrote down in capitals the topic of my lecture.
ISLAM AND TERRORISM:THE MISUNDERSTOOD CONCEPT
I turned back facing the class and as was my habit I tried getting the knowledge of the class before I started enlightening.
“So anyone here who would like to fill me in with anything on this?”
There was a dead silence as all eyes gazed at me for initiation. My smirk was turning to a smile when the process was interrupted by a small hand raised up with a timid voice whispering,
”I can try sir”
“Go on please”
It was the same girl who stood there in the 2nd last.
She stood up and shrugging away the shyness she started her speech. The more she spoke the more she grew in confidence. For the next 10 minutes or so I stood there as a silent listener of a wonderful speech which debatably even the so called Ulemas(religious scholars) will fail to talk upon.
She had a awesome way of handling a sensitive issue and so high were her thoughts of the religion which is the most misunderstood that I felt like saluting her knowledge.
She stopped leaving me speechless more by surprise than by the beauty of her speech.
Out of respect I walked towards her.
”Very good.Excellent indeed. You students have information so easily on the internet but I really applaud your thorough research”
“Its not a research sir.I only spoke what my mom has taught me”..she replied her face full of pride.
The emotion that grew in me was never before experienced by me. I felt the perspiration on my forehead as I could sense my 25 years belief crumbling down. Stammering yet gaining my voice I asked,”Whats your name my dear lady?”
More confident and with a smile on her face she replied
“My name is Tamanna Sen sir.”
“Tamanna as in T A M A N N A”
