I was new to the city. The transfers almost every three years from one place to another robbed my sense of belonging to any particular place. Earlier, I used to shift my family by my transfer order, but this time, I could not follow suit. The priorities change with growing age. As soon as I entered the nearby department store, I instantly realized that I hadn't been to any department store for ages. Since my wife volunteered to take care of the entire household, I was relieved from managing such domestic chores. To what extent a shopping list helps in shopping, I was not sure, but I saw almost everyone in the mall equipped with an elaborate list. Of course, all were not serious shoppers; some of them were hanging up there to pass their time. I was afraid of forgetting some essential items which are considered indispensable for cooking. Somehow I managed and took a sigh of relief after coming out of the crowded mall. My rented apartment wasn't very far from the mall, and that prompted the taxi drivers to refuse a ride to me. I was getting impatient after so many refusals. While I was waiting for some other mode of transport, suddenly, a car stopped in front of me, and I saw a woman in the driver's seat rolling down the glass of the side window of her car. She poked her head out and beckoned me to come near to her.
"Please come inside," she asked me when I went closer to the opened window. I hesitated for a moment, as she was a stranger to me, but I followed her request and sat down in the rear seat of the car.
"Are you Mr. Joshi?"
"Yes."
"Haven't you recently shifted to the ground floor of the Avantika Villa?"
"Yes. Last week I have come to reside there."
"Don't be surprised. I am Romila, your next-door neighbour."
That was my first encounter with Romila, a woman who had a story to tell the world. As I looked at Romila, I could sense a warmth in her eyes and a quiet curiosity. She gave me a small, friendly smile as she drove, keeping her focus on the road but still glancing back at me from time to time in the rearview mirror.
"You know, I’ve been in this neighbourhood for almost ten years now," she said, her tone light but reflective. "I’ve seen people come and go, but it’s not often I get new neighbours right next door."
"Ten years is a long time," I replied, thinking about my own life of frequent transfers.
"It must feel like home." Romila nodded, her smile fading just a little.
"Yes, it does feel like home, but it’s also… complicated." There was a pause, as though she were choosing her words carefully. "You see, I moved here with my husband back when life seemed simpler. But things changed. Now it's just me, but I’ve stayed."
I listened, sensing there was more to her story but not wanting to push her. She didn’t seem like someone who would easily open up, yet there was something in her voice, a mix of strength and sadness, that made me curious.
"So, Mr. Joshi," she said, breaking the silence, "you must be used to settling into new places."
I shrugged. "It’s something I’ve done so many times. But it does get harder with each move. You leave a little bit of yourself behind every time."
Romila nodded in agreement. "It’s strange how places and people can leave marks on us."
She turned the car onto a quiet street lined with trees, and soon we were back in front of my apartment building.
As I thanked her and got out, she said, "If you ever need anything, Mr. Joshi, I’m just next door. Sometimes it helps to have a familiar face, even if it's new."
I nodded, feeling a strange comfort in her words. Romila wasn’t just a neighbour now; she felt like a small part of my new beginning in this city. As I walked back to my apartment with my bags, I realized that, for the first time in a long while, I was looking forward to getting to know someone in this new place. In the weeks that followed, Romila would pop up now and then, with a wave, a smile, or an invitation for a cup of tea.
One evening, while she was brewing coffee in her kitchen, I took a closer look at her living room. Suddenly, a younger and stunning Romila in a pretty pink dress caught my eye in the photograph hanging on the wall. She was with a charming young man in a costly suit. Both were looking at kids playing in the park. Happiness was written on their face.
Hearing the sound of her feet, I sat down on the sofa. She kept the tray having two cups of coffee on the centre table and sat down opposite me in the chair.
"Milk?"
"Yes."
"Sugar?"
"Yes. One spoon."
She poured a little milk and one spoon of sugar and stirred it up effortlessly. I observed her long and beautiful fingers for the first time so closely when she handed me the cup.
I took a small sip; it was nice.
"It's excellent."
"Are you honest in your feedback?"
"Absolutely."
She looked at me, searching for something, but suddenly, she took her gaze away from me. Perhaps she couldn't find what she was looking for. I saw dark clouds of disappointment on her face.
"What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing."
"You are sad. I don't know why. But anyone can say it by looking at your face."
She didn't reply. We had been done with the coffee. I stood up from the sofa, thanked her for the coffee and left.
I missed Romila’s coffee for a week as I had been away from the city to attend a workshop.
Romila was in a bad mood when I entered her drawing room.
“Don't you think that you should have informed me about your trip?” she asked me looking into my eyes.
“I am extremely sorry.”
“You can't imagine how much worried I was.”
It was a stranger opposite me; a different Romila, a sensitive and tender soul, looking at me with her soulful eyes.
“Mr. Joshi, do you know why I like you?”
She paused for a moment. I didn't reply because it seemed to me that the pause was not a waiting for my response but she was preparing herself how to express herself in the desired way.
“I find qualities in you identical to Rohan, my late husband.”
My frequent visits to her house could've been a matter of concern for others; I hadn't thought of it unless one morning I felt our neighbourhood was keeping a watch on me. It didn't stop there but they started expressing their disbelief in me. Their murmurings gradually increased and rumours of our relationship spread like wildfire.
What would happen if the rumour reached my wife? That was the question which began stealing my sleep. My peaceful family life was at stake but I decided to take the risk. Taking the opportunity of the summer vacation, I brought my family to the city.
Romila came to my house to see my wife and sons. My wife, Sunita and sons Rohit and Rahul were having a good time with her. In the night, I told Sunita about the rumour. The colour of her face changed and she became serious. It gave me a shiver. I looked at her with fearful eyes and a sinking heart. Our happy family shattered, I dreamt with my open eyes.
I took a sigh of relief when I saw a smile on her face.
"I have absolute faith in my intuition. I know that a man is, after all a man, but you can't be in a relationship with another woman."
"Thanks for your belief in me," I said instantly.
"It's not my trust in you but my confidence in my observation. I can't bear the pain of my failure in reading a person. You will not see me again if I ever find my judgement baffling me."
"Don't worry, that moment will never come in our life," I said assuring her.
My wife and children returned home as the children had to join their school after the vacation. Time passed so quickly in their company, that I forgot about the fact that they had to go back.
I was missing them. My routine got messed up. It startled me when I opened the door in response to the doorbell and saw Romila on my doorstep.
“Wouldn't you ask me to come in?”
“Extremely sorry. Please come in,” I invited her moving away from the doorway to give her access to my living room.
“Are you ill?” she enquired after settling down herself on the sofa.
“No, I am alright. I will take some time to readjust myself.”
“I understand. You are missing your family.”
“Absolutely.”
“That's natural. But, surprisingly, you're still struggling with yourself.”
I looked up and gave her a wry smile.
She didn't respond to my smile and kept herself absorbed in a thorough inspection of my flat carefully and came face to face with me, “Why don't you take care of yourself? It seems that the rooms haven't been cleaned for many days.”
I gave her an apologetic smile about the total mess of the rooms.
From that day onwards, she began slowly contributing towards making my life more comfortable. I got my room painted in the colour of her choice. She arranged the room so that it looked transformed into something aesthetic. For the first time in that apartment, I felt a sense of being at home.
One evening at our coffee time, suddenly she said, "Mr Joshi, there are a few places in the city, I like the most."
"Can you tell me the names of these places?"
"These are not the famous spots of the city but they provide me with genuine peace of mind. If you are interested, you can join me on Sunday as I am leaving for my favourable spots at 8.00 in the morning."
"It's my pleasure. I can't afford to miss the opportunity," I said looking at her.
That was the day our visit to the treasured locations was initiated. Later on, it became our Sunday routine to visit one or more places like a small cute tulip garden, a coffee shop in the bookstore, and a chapel surrounded by tall trees - the places which were not far from home but never came into my sight before she showed me.
One day on the way to our return from the Sunday outing, she said softly, "Sandeep, you are like my family."
Her words kept on echoing into my ears the entire day and night.
On the evening of Saturday, I hurried to her door as I had been holding on to the recollections of our last coffee-time meeting. A surprised welcome by the open doors of her flat affirmed her hospitality.
I didn't find her in the living room but her melodious voice came to my ears, “Have a seat and give me a few minutes.”
“I am not in a hurry. Take your time,” I replied.
She must have come to the room when I was taking a nap sitting on the couch- so unusual for a person like me who ran to her for a chat over a cup of coffee.
A lovely smile was playing on her face when I opened my eyes.
“I am sorry,” I said.
“For what? You appear like a cute baby in your sleep. I kept looking at you with all my attention and savouring every moment of the opportunity.”
Finding me a little embarrassed, she asked me to prepare the coffee and disappeared into her kitchen.
While collecting the used cups, she happened to come so close that I felt her perfumed breathing touching my face causing a rush of blood in me.
I put all my strength to restrain myself from revealing the emotions but my failure mocked me when she asked me looking into my eyes, “Don’t you find yourself familiar with the perfume I have used?”
“Yes. But I am unable to recall,” I replied hesitantly.
She smiled differently and said in a rarely mild tone of voice, “Sunita, your wife had given it to me as a token of her trust in me.”
I was ashamed of myself so I preferred to be silent.
She continued, “Without any hesitation, I admit that I am a raging river but always flowing in discipline. The love of my departed husband doesn't allow me to cross the bank of the river.”
Her candidness amazed me and filled me with respect for her. She was not merely a dazzling star in the sky that provoked a lover to pluck her; she was a galaxy of stars - a vastness invincible.
Next Monday, before leaving for a week-long official trip, I glanced cursorily at Romila's balcony to check her presence. She wasn't there. I was still expecting her despite being fully aware of her usual time to show up there- when she used to extend her helping hands to the afternoon to come out of its laziness with the sweet sound of her footsteps. It seemed to me as if the sleepy afternoon had been waiting to say goodbye to her before leaving.
The city was no longer a stranger to me. For the first time, I felt the sensation of belongingness to a particular place. It might be a short stay but the feeling of belonging was satisfying. It was an estuary- where my limitlessness mingled with the expansion of the world like a river mixed with the sea.
Suddenly my attention was diverted to the deserted balcony coming into life with the unexpected appearance of Romila standing by the balustrade overlooking the greenery of the garden.
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