Akash and his companion were sitting at the Marine Drive promenade in south Mumbai, famously carrying the sobriquet of the Queens’s Necklace, with the expansive seafront on one side and the fabulous art deco buildings on the other side and the bejewelled street lights shimmering on the surfy waters like diamonds, making for a utopian setting for the lovelorn. They had come to have a quite evening together to soak in the setting of the red sun, the riot of colours spraying the skies awash, the gorgeous Governor’s residence at the far end of the horizon and the silhouette of the peripheral skyline. Mumbai does have its charm amid all its grime. As they were enjoying the togetherness, holding hands, Akash could not help reminiscing about his childhood past and the adulthood present and the wonderful circle of life that throw people together in some prescient cosmic scheme.
Akash lived and grew up in a housing society, in Central Mumbai, surrounding a huge ground, where the children congregated everyday evening for some play after the daylong drama of lessons and homework at schools. The housing complex consisted of a few buildings and the 120 odd families were all from middle class background with different tongues of speech and quite close knit with the language of love and bonhomie permeating enduring relationships. Most followed an open door policy and anyone was welcome to drop in anytime to have a cuppa, some chit-chat, indulging in sweets and savouries, some borrowed newspaper reading time, free-loading of some salt or sugar, making telephone calls and generally having pleasant moments and leaving sweet memories. Every festival, every function was celebrated in this togetherness of warmth and there never was a dull moment.
Akash, a diffident but an active child, of average looks and intelligence, but a curious student, had several friends, most scholarly than him. But this eternal comparisons and chase of marks never worried him since his parents were supportive of him and psychologically supported him to ensure that he passes out and progresses to the next class every year. The postman carrying the annual school results, was the most awaited person those days with a pass ensuring abundance of mithais for him. Akash and his friends all liked games and there was no game that they have not played together in their growing up days, bestowed as they were with the luxury of a private ground amid them. Cricket, football, volleyball, marbles, carrom, cards, langdi, kho -kho, lagori, you name it and they have played it.
Akash had a close friend and neighbour in his building, whose cousins used to visit him annually every summer and spent time in the magnet called Mumbai. Akshada, his friend’s cousin, was a regular visitor during school breaks. She was vivacious with a smiling countenance and quite talkative and sporting an unconventional-those-days short bob cut. Akash used to visit his friend’s house quite regularly and have conversations with Akshada and her siblings about school, story books, play games and at times go to movies, courtesy the friend who by then had some regular income. Playing games on the grounds was an everyday summer activity and Akshada used to watch all the plays and games from her balcony. Subconsciously, Akash used to espy Akshada watching the games and in his child hood fantasy imagine that she was looking at him. In that frame of mind, he used to try and excel in the game – whether hitting a four or a six in cricket or a smash in the volleyball game – to him Akshada was the sole audience and he had to please her, if not for anything else, her beatific smile. Summers were spent in such imagination, but given the conservative mind-sets of those time there never was a temerity or temperament to express feelings of hearts to anyone. So was it with Akash. And possibly with Akshada too, who may or may not have had any feeling for Akash. Matters of hearts were best left deep inside to pump away all the teenage flutters and excitements.
In the inexorable passage of time and the passing out of schools and the admissions to colleges and transferrable jobs, summer visits of Akshada to her cousin’s place home became a rarity and eventually petered out only to leave behind a despondent and pining Akash. The connect between Akash and Akshada completely ceased overtime, except for stray reference in conversations between Akash and his friend.
Life went by for Akash, from college to higher education to jobs to finding a fresh crush, marriage and family and kids and the inveterate circle of life, with all its pleasures and pains, highs and lows. Akshada’s life too was similar, as Akash learnt from his friend. She had finished her studies and migrated abroad to settle down with her husband and children. Life moves on for sure, given the resilience of the Homo sapiens in all their complexities.
Everything was on going fine till one day Akash’s life got disrupted, not by the usual retirement from the job, but by an unexpected turn of events. His wife, who had been an excellent homemaker and a great support to the family, had gone the spiritual route for quite some time and finally in keeping with the philosophy of the Hindu dharma, expressed a desire to relinquish the home-life and move to an ashram in the mountainous areas of Uttarakhand, never to return. In all fairness, she had taken Akash and her children into confidence in advance about her inner desires and then took the decision. Akash and his children, in the fitness of the things and empathy with the lady of the house, had reluctantly agreed. Akash recalled his own cousin who had given it up all at 21 and joined a spiritual movement based in the east and happy spreading spirituality and Vedantic knowledge.
Akash’s life was cruising along, managing his lonely life as best as he could, the children having long since flown the coup and settled abroad. He had accepted the reality that his wife would never return from her vanaprastha situation and re-enter a householder’s life. He spent his time visiting libraries and devouring books and several social activities and of course regularly meeting his friends for a game of bridge or walks and the occasional tipple, a universal weakness as common as chips and fritters.
Akash was no tech dinosaur and prided himself in keeping up with the latest technology and all that is good with the social media. He was a member of several groups in Facebook like the Old Bombay Group and several other meaningful ones which prided themselves in useful and informative posts on several relevant matters. In the course of his digital navigation he came across one called ‘The Group Company’ and his interest was aroused, naturally curious that he always had been. On a deeper dive, he discovered that this group is all about bringing together all singles, man or woman, united by a desire for companionship, on a common platform and help build new relationships. Staying in a megapolis like Mumbai, Akash was pining for some companionship to spend his sunset years. He joined the group and started visiting it regularly and scouring the other aspirants seeking companionship. The site enabled bespoke slicing of members’ data. Akash kept it simple and elicited data on an alphabetical basis and Mumbai based. His search threw up some seven hundred odd names and 120 odd names starting with the letter ‘A’.
Akash excitedly went through the names, carefully looking at each’s education and background to see if any would be a good ‘match’ from the culled list. He came across 32 single women with the name Akshada. While one or two had posted their pictures along with their profile, most had not, out of abundant caution knowing the dangers of digital predators. Akash’s heart was now racing, suddenly flooded as he with sweet memories of his child hood and his friend’s cousin, Akshada. In the excitement of the moment, Akash called his friend ( who continued to live in the same housing complex ) and asked about his cousin. Akash had consciously kept Akshada off his radar more so thinking that she was abroad and settled and hence rarely asked about her. His friend told him that Akshada had returned to India for good about a year ago and is now settled in Mumbai. Curious, Akash asked him about her husband and family. Apparently, Akshada’s husband had left his family life for good and had joined a mission a few years ago to serve the society at large, for the remainder of his life. Akshada and her family had respected and accepted her husband’s decision and had been putting her house abroad in order before returning to India . Akash was stunned at the divined coincidence of it all. He and Akshada’s respective partners had opted for a spiritual life after fulfilling their respective family responsibilities and both were left single in their sunset phase to lead their lives in solitary splendour.
Akash immediately called up Akshada and went on a date with his childhood muse, not once, but many times, both marvelling at destiny’s beautiful play. Overtime a natural reconnect and closeness happened. As they were holding hands and chatting excitedly, sitting on the sea-front ledge at Marine Drive, they realised that the sun never really sets, but keeps brightening lives.
