Drafts Of Her Heartbeat

Another Encounter

The inauguration ceremony descended and ended up in an informal after-party, giving the other teams a chance to mingle and get to know each other. Team India was playing the ideal host, everything in the party was about India and Indian food. No alcohol but cold drinks and refreshers were being served. Everybody has changed into something less formal, and here I was, stuck, in the three-piece suit and tie.
Sometimes I do envy these college students, no trouble of meeting or presenting themselves in the apt way, no pressure of media, away from prying eyes, enjoying their own life. Then I remember the pressure to build a future, a career, take responsibilities of their family in near future. One thing plus for me was I never had to worry about a stable future. Being born with a silver spooning mouth, I led a luxurious life, whether in India or in the US, with no worries about how to earn bread for me. The emptiness left behind with absence of dad was always fulfilled with money, lots and lots of money. Maybe another reason why I was the way I was in past. Had I got everything, the hard way, maybe I would have more maturity and sense of responsibility at my age.
Drinking my cold drink and talking with Richard and other prominent persons present there, my eyes awaited for just a sight of her. Her, where is she? All her team members are present here and yet again she is missing. Is she dodging this party to avoid an interaction with me? Is she avoiding me? My chain if thoughts were broken by Dad, who cleared his throat to grab my attention.
"You are right Mr. Richard, this time the teams are very competitive." Dad said, giving me the hints on what they were chatting, so as to save me from any embarrassment.
"Yes, Mr. Khaitan. But all the eyes are in team India, Rebel Angels, especially because of their captain. Being the first female captain, she has already proved her metal in the nationals, now we can't wait to see what she has in store for internationals. She is the mystery card of Mr. Chauhan. Her personality is different, never giving way to what is going on in her mind. Plus her tuning with her team is great, it's like they are one huge family." Mr. Richard boosted.
Meanwhile, we spotted Mr. Chauhan with his wife Kashish, making their way towards us.
"Vidyut, please introduce us to your team." Dad asked, while Mr. Richard excused himself to meet some other people.
"Exactly, let us know the intelligent people whom we are going to sponsor. You know like up close and personal." Aviral joked, trying to get Vidyut call his team.
"I thought you will like to meet them in a proper meeting, not in a party" Vidyut said.
"Meeting in a cabin is too boring. This competition is about practical life, so let why not meet them in a comfortable environment, what better than a party mood?" Dad pipped in.
"Sure. Let me just call them." He replied with a nod, looking around spotting his students interacting with a group of foreigners, "Rebellions. Here right now." He shouted and in next thirty seconds all seven of them were in front of us.
"Introduce yourselves to your sponsors, Mr. Dhruv Khaitan and his father Mr. Yash Khaitan." Vidyut said in a stern formal tone.
"Axel Williams transferred student from the US, came to India to study history." Introduced the first one.
"Riddhi Dutta, student of Engineering" the second, a girl, came forward.
"Rahul Raichand also student of Engineering." The third introduced himself.
"Arjun Daga student of IT, Expertised in coding." The fourth said.
"Piya Rai, also from IT, Expertised in software development." The fifth, yet another girl, introduced herself.
"Siddhant Rai from engineering" the sixth said.
"Abhimanyu Singh, student of Engineering. Vice-Captain of Rebel Angels." The seventh boy introduced himself. All the seven if them were oozing of confidence and power, like they were proud of what they are.
"Don't we have a team of eight? Where is the captain?" Aviral asked, something that was stuck in my throat. No matter what, I was interested in seeing her again, just to make myself believe of her presence.
"We save the best for the last." Kashish said covering up, while Vidyut was looking around for his team's captain. "Where is she Abhimanyu?" Vidyut asked.
"I don't know sir. She was here only. Maybe she has gone to washroom?" He replied uncertain of his answer.
"There she is." Arjun said.
There she was entering the venue. She had now changed to a white-n-pink full length dress. Teaming it with the same accessories, she did not failed in matching her look. Hairs opened and parted to a side in her left shoulder. She made her way towards us, as Abhimanyu signalled her.
"This is our pretty pretty captain." Rahul said, giving her way to come in front. Though standing infront of me, she still kept her distance, by moving closer to Abhimanyu. I couldn't help but frown a bit, when he kept his hand on her back.
"Hello myself Arohi, student of Literature. Captain of REBEL Angels, India. " She introduced herself proudly.
"Arohi, Arohi what?" Aviral asked. Not removing my gaze from her, I kept staring directly in her eyes.
She turned her head little bit to look at Aviral, "Arohi. Just plain and simple Arohi." She said pointedly.
"What is your surname?" Aviral questioned again. The team squirmed a bit as if uncomfortable of the question, while Vidyut and Kashish looked at her intently, waiting for her reply.
"As I said. Arohi. Just Arohi. No surname." She replied confidently. I could feel dad shocked at her revelation.
"How can it be? Everybody has a surname." Aviral said again, trying to test the waters.
"I am not everybody. I am my own individual. I don't need a surname to define me. My identity is built by my name, not by some surname. Why can't a girl has her own name as her identity? Why does she need to inherit her father or husband's name? I don't need a man to complete my identity. I am an individual, with my individuality." She replied sternly. Her voice clipped yet polite.
Her team standing behind her now a bit comfortable, after her speech. Her stance strong and straight. No hint of nervousness or guilt in it.
"But why this way?" The words came out before I could stop them.