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Raj drove Nisha to a nearby mall. It was December and the sun was shining bright. Temperatures were hovering around in the late 20’s (in Celsius, or early 80’s in Fahrenheit).
Nisha was greeted by a pleasant breeze when she stepped out of the car. She was glad that she was wearing a cap. When she entered the shop, she became conscious all of a sudden. Both she and Raj were—celebrities. She was expecting to be—mobbed any minute. But she took a sigh of relief when the shopkeeper smiled at her—normally.
She wondered—what could be the reason? And then it struck her. Both she and Raj were sporting caps. They were also wearing rimmed photo chromatic glasses that had already turned dark in the car. These glasses made them appear very different from their on-screen looks.
Raj was looking quite handsome in a yellow T-shirt (yes, it is very common in India for even men to wear brighter colours) paired with khaki cargo trousers. He was sporting a mild day-old stubble.
Nisha was happy to note that the shop was selling all kinds of hats—in all kinds of colour, shapes and sizes. She paused for a moment not knowing what to choose.
“May I help you mam?” asked the shopkeeper.
“Actually we are looking for a nice hat—something for her,” Raj said pointing towards Nisha.
“No problems,” the shopkeeper said and motioned towards the stands where the hats were kept.
They walked towards that corner while the shopkeeper hurried to welcome another customer.
Nisha picked a hat, brown in colour with a black stripe in the middle. She wore it.
“How do I look?” asked Nisha.
“Too dull. And probably too manly,” said Raj making an animated expression.
“Oh!” said Nisha and picked up a black one.
“I think brighter colours will be better for you,” said Raj.
Nisha then picked up a pink hat.
“That’s it! You look great,” said Raj nodding vigorously.
“Really?” smiled Nisha. She then freaked out.
She chose a wide variety of hats in different colours—blue, pink, white and Raj was happy to pick them all up.
“We also sell very nice Salwar Kameezes for women. Would you like to see some?” asked the shopkeeper who had scurried back seeing the commotion at the hat counter.
“Yah. Why not? Have a look?” said Raj.
Nisha looked at the different types of kurtas—all very colourful. She picked up a pink one and headed straight to the changing room. After a few moments she came out.
“How do I look?” asked Nisha.
“Um.... try something else?” said Raj.
She then picked up a light yellow coloured kurta. Meanwhile, his eyes fell on a shiny blue kurta which sported some golden embroidery.
“Wait a second. I think you should try the blue one,” said Raj, handing over the blue kurta to her.
“Oh!” said Nisha and went back to the changing room.
A few moments later when she came out, Raj couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was dazzling in the blue kurta. The golden embroidery was shining, like gold. It added a lot of charm to her personality. The colour contrast gave a beautiful glow to her face.
“How do I look?” Nisha enquired.
He moved towards her and took her hand in his hand.
And with a sudden gush of breath he uttered, “You look the most beautiful girl on earth.”
She laughed. He then whispered in her ears:
“Will you marry me?”
She laughed more. This time—it was louder.
“You silly boy!” she said.
Both proceeded to the check-out counter and Raj happily paid for everything.
***
Fully loaded with shopping bags, Raj had difficulty opening the door of their flat in Worli.
“That was one hell of a shopping experience!” said Nisha. Her eyes were still glinting with joy.
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. That pink hat really looks good on you. I hope your hair too grows back pretty soon,” said Raj.
Nisha’s expression changed. She looked sad now.
Raj noticed this sudden change and asked,
“Hey what’s wrong?”
“Have I told you about what an astrologer told me—when I was five years old?” asked Nisha.
“No. You haven’t,” replied Raj.
“He told me—that I was going to die—after my 30th birthday,” said Nisha. Her voice was choking.
“To hell with such astrologers.... And to hell with their predictions,” retorted Raj.
Nisha didn’t look convinced. Tears started flowing down her cheeks.
“But he was right. I’m going to die soon. That is what the doctors also said.”
“All rubbish,” said Raj not knowing what to say more. Hope was indeed fading away and Raj knew he had to keep Nisha upbeat. Otherwise there was no way to fight this disease.
“My dearest Nisha—don’t let any semi-literate astrologer dictate your life. Remember—you had told me once—to fire anyone who said that I will never make it. Today I ask you for a favour. Fire all those astrologers and doctors who said you won’t live.”
“Astrology is an imprecise science. Forget any scientific study. Not even a statistical, sample study has so far been conducted—to evaluate their claims or their accuracy. And even if we believed in someone’s uncanny ability to see the future, often it is all a matter of interpretation of what they see in their visions. A glass can be seen as half full or half empty depending upon how you view things. Predictions go wrong—and keep going wrong all the time. So please don’t let any astrologer control your life. The only thing which is certain is this—I love you and will always love you. And I won’t let you die so easily. You have my word,” said Raj.
Nisha hugged Raj.
“I love you too,” she said, still sobbing.
Ting-tong.
Raj heard the bell and opened the door.
“Oh my God,” he said in sheer astonishment.
