Weird and Wonderful

Chapter 16

Present Year

“How are you?” It was the first thing that Swasti asked as Kritika entered her room.

“Fine.” Kritika gave her usual non-sentimental reply as if they had been meeting daily.

“How is Abhishek?” Swasti asked Kritika as she brought a glass of water for her. It was the safest thing to ask because when they were at school, Kritika had always complained that Swasti did not take interest in her and Abhishek’s relationship. Kritika was scrutinizing Swasti’s room then.

“He broke up with me,” Kritika said non-chalantly, “Still messy? You haven’t changed a bit, Swasti,” Kritika said, looking at the clothes spread on Swasti’s bed. Swasti could not decide whether she should respond to Kritika’s first sentence or second one. But Kritika solved the confusion by saying, “In IIT, he found that a girl like me was not suitable for him.”
Swasti remained quiet. She started serving snacks for Kritika.

“Anyway, I have not come here all the way from Kanpur to talk about me. This is about someone else,” Kritika said.

“About Ami?”

“No,” Kritika said, giving a book titled When Shadows Dream to Swasti.

“What is this?” Kritika had come from Kanpur to Ghaziabad to give Swasti a book. Unbelievable!

“This book is written by Saarthak Sharma. Girls are crazy for him,” Kritika said.

“But what has it got to do with me?” Swasti said. Kritika was testing her patience.

“Go to page no.53,” was the reply.

“Tell me directly what you want to say. Why are you talking in riddles to me?” Swasti said. Kritika was never like that. Had she also changed like Ami?

“Go to page no. 53,” Kritika said, unaffected by Swasti’s protests.
Swasti turned the pages of the book. Her expression changed from curiosity to surprise.

“But how can this be possible? This is Rachit’s poem,” Swasti screamed. There was no mistake. It was Rachit’s poem - Dreams.

Dreams-innocent dreams-like white clouds, hovering over my mind
Without these the world seems so void
Of course they're stupid, no real purpose they show
far from ambitions, as simple as brook they flow.
People say they're a waste of time
but dreams ring in my mind as sweet as chime.
Though unreal; they anchor me during turbulent waves of mistrust & betrayal;
They save me from worldly acquaintances of purpose.
They don't demand anything from me-Unconditionally they give me joy.
.
My dreams are meaningless to world
and
world is meaningless for them.
All I can say is that
my dreams make me what I am,
whether it's real or imagination...

Swasti read the book like a hungry animal gorges on its food. Kritika was quietly seeing her.

“Kritika, look at this,” Swasti said, turning the pages with care, as if the book was a precious gemstone, “This is God-given dare and this one...this one is Lost.”

“I know,” Kritika said.

“Not only the poems, it appears that the whole book is written by Rachit,” Swasti said as if she was in a trance.

“But this book was released two years ago, and Rachit had died nine years ago,” Kritika said.

“What do you want to say?” Swasti said.

“You know what I want to say,” Kritika said calmly.

“Are you out of your mind?” Swasti was shouting now. It was impossible for her to keep calm now.

“Why is it not possible? Miracles do happen and you know that, Swasti. What if Rachit had  not died  in that drowning accident? What if...” but Kritika stopped in the mid of the sentence.

“What if?” Swasti said sharply.

“What if Saarthak Sharma is Rachit Chauhan?” Kritika said.

“No, no, no...you have gone mad. Saarthak cannot be Rachit. No one can be Rachit,” Swasti said.

“I have searched about Saarthak Sharma on Internet. He is the same as you have imagined Rachit. Here look at his face,” Kritika said, showing Swasti Saarthak’s picture on her cellphone.

“Look at his kind face. Is it not the kindness which you thought that Rachit would have? Look at his deep eyes; don’t they penetrate through your heart?”

“Stop it, Kritika,” Swasti said, throwing Kritika’s cell phone on the cell phone, “Where were you when I needed you the most? Where were you when I was suffering from depression? You just moved on, caring only about your career and boyfriend, leaving me behind. Now, when I am settled down, why have you come back to create havoc in my life?”

“Because I want to complete your love story,” Kritika said, “When Abhishek left me, I felt that my life had lost its meaning. I could not forget about him, so I started eating continuously. That’s why I have become so fat. I could not concentrate on studies and failed in the Semester exams. But I recovered. But you are still stuck in that alumni meet which took place five years ago. Do you know why?”
“I don’t know,” Swasti said softly. She was now regretting what she had said to Kritika earlier.

“Because your love was stronger than mine was. Your love was pure without any selfish reasons. When I thought about why Abhishek ditched me, I found out that it was not his fault. It was I who was responsible for our breakup. I was attracted to him because he was handsome. I loved him because I thought he could help me get into IITs as he was so intelligent. But you have loved Rachit without even seeing him. You loved him even after knowing that you could never meet him. This is true love Swasti and true love is a magic in which any miracle is possible.”

“But some things are not meant to be. No matter how much we try, my love story will never complete,” Swasti said.

“Bye, Swasti, I will pray for you and Rachit.”  Kritika took her bag and went out of the room. Swasti stood at the threshold of the door, gaping at Kritika. She could not even ask her to stay longer.