Poetic Sensibility

16- Sweethearts And Blackmails

500 Reads is a cause to celebrate (Thank you for that, O Wise Reader!). And it comes with a brand new POV (That too in flashback!). Yay! Happy Reading!

        Sarah bit back a curse when she saw that all the tables at the club library were occupied. So were the chairs. And the big volumes on International Corporate and Investment Banking Business were seriously burning some calories. She was going to be a dry husk by the time she was done scouring through the books. Sarah hated exams with a vengeance. She was absolutely rubbish at them. The only good thing about exams was that her mother took pity on her and freed her from domestic duties such as taking care of the laundry or washing her own mug after consuming hazardous amounts of coffee. She took care of everything when it was Sarah's I-hate-everyone phase, as she charmingly put it. It was the time when Sarah's head would be buried in a book and the only responses you can get from her come in grunts and snarls.

        Sarah continued to look for a place like a hawk and finally found an unoccupied chair next to a plainly dressed girl who seemed to be writing something in her notebook and cross-referencing it with a big volume. Wait a minute! That couldn't possibly be... Oh God! It was! Sarah marched over to the girl and plonked her books on the table and herself on the chair. The girl didn't even look up from her book. Sarah cleared her throat and when she looked up, her eyes widened in surprise.

"Oh! Hi! Sarah!" Romi exclaimed, which earned her a few shushes from the people around her. She turned her voice down and said, "Wow! It's been forever since I saw you last."

Sarah grinned. While Romi and she had never been the best of pals in high schools, they had gotten along and remained civil. Over the years, they had lost contact but there was always that occasional greeting and birthday-wishing and liking statuses on Facebook. "Yeah, it really has."

Romi smiled back as Sarah, being the little nosy parker that she was, turned to see the volume Romi had been referring to. "English Poets through the centuries" Sarah read. "You are into poetry?"

Romi grinned as she explained, "Believe it or not, I pursued poetry all through college and now I teach it. Nothing fancy, just a smattering of private tutoring here and there."

"Darn sight better than what I am stuck with," Sarah replied miserably, pointing at her books. She was never going to be prepared in time for her exams.

"I can see," Romi replied, doing an excellent job of not sounding distasteful. Honestly, they could be talking about the weather and Romi would use that same tone, Sarah thought.

"So who is your favorite, then? Mine's Tennyson," Sarah said. She absolutely loved his 'Crossing the Bar'.

Romi raised her perfect eyebrows and said, "I didn't know you fancied poetry, much less the modernist kinds. Tennyson is one of the better ones."

        Sarah found herself enjoying this conversation immensely. She would enjoy anything immensely if it distracted her from whatever stupid laws and policies she was to study for her very first paper. Even the cobweb on the top most shelf of the Anthropology section was more interesting than that. She wondered if a spider was lurking about that cobweb.

"Yeah... umm... modernists... totally my thing," Sarah replied. She had no idea what modernists did or did not do. And she was pretty sure she was sounding incredibly thick right now.

Romi simply smiled and said, "Really? I hadn't pegged you for one of those affected-by-the-world-wars type."

Sarah was mildly offended. And she decided to show it even though she had no idea what she was offended by, "Of course they affect me! Besides I have written a few poems on wars and battles and all that sort of business." And she really had. A bit. Maybe.

"Hmm... I suppose you'll enjoy a bit of Yeats then," Romi said ominously. Just then someone tried to hush them up again. Romi turned to her and asked, "Fancy a cup of coffee?" Sarah could tell she wouldn't be offended if she refused but then she looked at that dreaded textbook lying in front of her. There really was no competition. Coffee won. An ugly, fat tomcat would've won. And Sarah wasn't a cat person.

        They walked to a cafe that Sarah hadn't known existed. And she loved it. Romi said something about this place being a regular feature due a book-club that had chosen it for it's gatherings. There was this little alcove like arrangement where they sat and Sarah inquired after the book-club that Romi had mentioned and Romi, in return, was inquisitive about the poetry Sarah wrote.

"In fact, off the top of my mind, I can think of at least 4 people who write poetry. As in just like a hobby or a pass time or something. Except maybe Kiara. She's super passionate about it. I've only ever seen her work once and that was because it was published in this magazine and her mother had informed my mother who then told me about it," Sarah said.

"Oh that's really nice. Who are the other 3? Wait, is one of them that sweetheart of yours? The one who you were angsting over during the 9th grade?" Romi teased.

Sarah felt that warmth and colour seeping into her cheeks. Romi knew about Kabir. The entire school had known that she was mad about him. Except, maybe, him. "He's not a sweetheart!" Sarah exclaimed. "We are just good friends. And yes, he is one of them. And his college mate too."

        Rishi hadn't been into poetry all that much. But one day, when he had teased Kabir about his love for poetry, Kabir had forced Rishi to sit through some of his own compositions. And the unimaginable had happened. Rishi had discovered his inner poet. And he was learning how to be one. They all were, but Rishi was having a go at baby steps. Which was fine, Sarah thought. Because he would ask Kabir for help and that gave Kabir a reason to consult with Sarah. God, she had it bad for him. Her Kabirisms would seriously give her a heart-attack one day. And after all of this... she wished to see more of him and hear more of him and just wanted about seventy thousand six hundred and forty nine excuses to see him every single... wait a minute! Sarah felt like a true genius as an idea creeped into her mind and began to take a proper shape.

"Hey," Sarah began, "It's just an idea you know... since I know these 4 people who might be into poetry, how about we start like a little club thing?" She sent brainwaves to Romi to make her agree to this not-so-bad idea.

Romi thought about it for a moment and then said, "If you remove the word 'club', it doesn't sound like a bad idea."

Sarah mentally gave a little whoop of joy. "It sounds like a great idea. We can do it once every week or something."

"Once a week might be a bit much in the beginning," Romi replied. And she was probably right. "But once a fortnight sounds good."

Sarah agreed. "Yeah. But we face 2 hurdles. One, my best friend and one of our fellow poets might be a grouch about it... so I am going to have to totally blackmail him. Two, Kiara... is a bit shy," Sarah said, thinking about her cousin and the last time she had seen her. They regularly exchanged emails but it had been too long since she had seen her. They met everyday when Kiara lived in the same apartment building as her but since their move, they hardly ever saw each other. "So you know... it'll take a bit for her to be comfortable around you. However, once she is, it's practically impossible to shut her up."

"It's no inconvenience to me," Romi assured her. "When do you want to begin? After March though, please. I have to suffer through the exams of my students." Sarah actually felt bad for her. She just had to focus on her own exams and Romi must go through that particular suburb of hell so frequently.

"I'll figure out the day with Kabir and text you," Sarah replied, paying her half of the bill.

"Oh, of course. Check with the sweetheart first," Romi teased and stood up.

        Sarah blushed as they said their goodbyes and walked home. There was no way she would be able to concentrate on what Koffman or Simon Dixon had to say about the banking sector. Her mind was simmering with excitement as she thought about the phone call she was going to make to Kabir that evening. And then she thought about relaying that same message to her best friend, Mr. Grouchy and it was like someone had poured a bucket of ice water over her. She really needed to think up ways to blackmail him and dig out some weakness. And then she grinned widely. Samay's biggest weakness was his curiosity. And she was bloody well going to use it against him.