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Anuj never knew his life would soon be hit by a storm. After an unusually warm and sunny March, dark clouds had returned to London. The sky appeared as if the sun was never there—as if there could never be any happiness in his life. The winds would occasionally howl. Ominously, as if a few banshees were wandering in the corridors. A few trees were uprooted.
Anuj woke up with a start when his phone rang. He picked up the phone and heard his mother’s voice. She sounded sad. A bad news awaited him. And then her mother spoke the words:
“Your grandmother is no more. She passed away this morning.”
The words felt as if he had been bludgeoned by that nasty wind. He had last seen his grandmother a couple of years ago before he came to London. He still remembered her eyes—how they lit up when she saw him. She always gave him a warm hug, told stories, played cards and occasionally baked a cake for him. What saddened him most was that he never realised that the last time he met her would be the last time he was ever going to see her. No one is immortal—he knew that. But his loved ones will just disappear from his life one day without any warning—broke his heart.
He wished he’d known that his grandmother was going to die. He wished he’d spent more time with her in her last days.
The death of his beloved grandmother was not the only bad news. Anuj usually tried to start his days on a positive note hoping that it would be better than the previous day. He had received a response from all the forty law firms he’d applied again for his training contract. The lines were so similar that by now he had even memorised the wordings. They all started the same way.
“Thank You for applying to us.”
The very first line made it clear that the answer was “No.” And then the second line confirmed it. No specific information was provided as to why he wasn’t successful. The rejection letters all had the same standard construction:
“Every year we receive tens of thousands of applications and the competition this year had been quite tough.”
How was he supposed to interpret this message? That he was just not good enough? That he would never fit well with their corporate culture? That his race, skin colour, nationality, religion, accent—were all NOT correct.
Anuj didn’t know how else to take it. Otherwise what else could such a message, in fact, forty of them, indicate?
Then there was that irritatingly polite last paragraph:
“Please don’t take it personally as your inability to become a solicitor. The rejection doesn’t mean you weren’t good enough. It only means that the competition was tough. We wish you all the best for your future career.”
The last paragraph was meant to make him feel better about himself. But instead it made him feel worse. It made him feel exactly what it didn’t mean to make him feel—a failure. A person who doesn’t have the ability to become a good lawyer. He wished that the paragraph wasn’t there. But since the paragraph was there—he blamed himself for reading it the wrong way. It was he—who was at fault. Nobody else. If he took the paragraph otherwise, it was his problem. He was the one being over sensitive.
He had no future, no career. Many of his university colleagues had succeeded to secure a training contract. The smiles on their faces made him feel both good and bad. He was happy that his colleagues had found success, a career to look forward to. But the same smile also made him jealous and feel worthless. His life was going nowhere.
He blamed himself at every stage. Interviews were always his weak spot. They made him nervous. Obviously he would have come across as a fidgety wreck. Who would want to hire such a person?
Dilip Patel, his family friend, had warned him long back that he should start drinking. But he just couldn’t adapt. During drink receptions, when others grabbed a bottle of beer, he would grab a glass of orange juice. Then how could he make his employers believe that he was trustworthy? That he could bond well with his peers?
If he didn’t have a career, it was his fault. The blame lay squarely on him. It wasn’t fair to call the system biased. Call everyone prejudiced? Really? Was it his employers’ fault that he goofed up at every stage?
First his grandma’s death and then the 40 rejections he faced! Mind you—forty! His happiness had disappeared like the sun from the sky.
He was only twenty-three, but he secretly wished that God had traded his life for his grandmother’s. Because he was such a worthless human being.
The clouds had become darker. Anuj realised that he needed to control his emotions. His dark thoughts were killing him. He needed to do something.
Anuj knew that the sky would be blue again. That there was always hope. He needed to keep himself upbeat.
He needed to speak to someone.
He didn’t trust his usual friends. How would they react? Will they all secretly laugh behind his back and call him a loser? Or they’ll do “tut-tut” and pass “everything is not too bad” kind of comments which did no good.
Ella!
I need to speak to you.
His intuition told him that Ella may just be the right person. He had never shared such intense feelings with her. Her warm smile, her soul-stirring music, and the feeling with which she wrote her diary—told him she was the right person.
The storm was bad; so he had to wait till the next morning. When the wind had quietened down a bit, and the rains had totally stopped, he called her and asked her whether she wanted to go for a walk with him in Hampstead Heath.
Her answer was a definite yes.
***
They sat on that bench at Parliament Hill looking at the dark city of London. The cold breeze slapped Anuj’s face reminding him of the harsh reality he couldn’t avoid. Just half an hour earlier, as he was walking out of Netherhall, a resident had informed him that the Finchley Road tube station was shut because someone had come under the wheels of the train.
“Probably the guy was trying to commit suicide,” was the short explanation.
Anuj felt a pang in his heart as if it was his soul that was crushed on the tracks of the London underground that day.
Ella looked at him. Anuj looked serious. Way too serious. His grey eyes looked like steel. His sharp nose had turned red. His brown hair were a little dishevelled that actually added to his charm. He looked more handsome when he was serious. Like a sober serious guy.
But her sixth sense told her he was in distress.
“You’re not saying anything. Are you okay?”
Anuj looked at her. She saw a little bit of emotion in his cold eyes.
He said nothing for a few seconds and then he took a deep breath.
“My grandmother passed away this morning,” said Anuj.
“I’m so sorry to hear that,” said Ella. Her eyes instantly showing emotion and concern.
“What can I say about her? She was so special to me. The last time I saw her was a couple of years before I came here. I couldn’t even bid her goodbye properly,” said Anuj. His eyes had become moist and his voice hoarse.
“No. Please don’t be upset,” said Ella. She moved towards him and hugged him. Anuj was a little taken aback. He was being hugged after a very long time. Unlike the Italians, French or the Spanish, the British were generally the not-so-touchy-feely type. In London, everyone maintained a safe distance.
Anuj felt the warmth of Ella’s body. Her hugging was so spontaneous and affectionate that it reminded him funnily of his grandmother. Or was it his grandmother’s way of saying from heaven that he need not be upset?
Ella hugged him for a long time. “Let’s have some coffee together. If that makes you feel better.”
“Thanks. That’s very kind of you. But I am not in a mood today,” replied Anuj.
“Oh—come on. It will only warm you up on such a miserable day, and everything will be fine,” insisted Ella.
“Everything is not fine, Ella. I also received rejection letters from all the forty firms I had applied to. I feel like a failure. I feel I’m not good enough,” said Anuj.
“Look towards me,” said Ella. Anuj looked at her. Her blue-violet eyes were blazing.
“You’re not a failure,” she said sharply.
“And how can you be so sure,” he asked.
“You’re not. Trust me. You made it to UCL which is one of the top 20 universities in the world,” said Ella.
“So what?”
“You came to London alone. You are very brave. I know how difficult it is, to adjust to a foreign culture, alien cuisine, strange weather and even more so such weird people,” said Ella.
Anuj couldn’t suppress a smile.
“I find it funny that you call Englishmen weird people,” said Anuj.
“Yeah. Because they really are,” said Ella.
Anuj now burst into a laughter.
“So true. But the world doesn’t care. They only care about good grades, good looks and whether you can make good money,” said Anuj.
“Don’t bother about the world so much, Anuj. You are so different. You are kind, caring and see beauty everywhere. Such things can never be measured,” said Ella.
“Oh, but these things don’t matter in the real world,” said Anuj.
“But they matter to me,” asserted Ella.
There was something so beautiful in the way she spoke those words. Anuj felt regaining his energy. Her eyes and voice were so comforting and so soothing.
“But I didn’t make it. Who is to be blamed? Me,” said Anuj.
“I fully empathise with you. I feel like a failure every day. Let me tell you something about myself,” said Ella.
Anuj looked at her. He became attentive.
“When I had a breakup last year, I felt as if I was to be blamed. I... I wasn’t good looking. I must have done something wrong. That I didn’t deserve to be loved,” said Ella. Her eyes were welling up.
“No, Ella. This is not true. You’re beautiful in every respect. The way you look, the music you play and your writings. They’re all part of you. Please don’t say you weren’t lovable. You have been the best friend I ever had,” said Anuj.
“That’s exactly what I wanted to tell you. You’re not a failure,” said Ella.
She took out a diary from her purse. Let me read something to you. She opened a page and started reading:
“I saw a rose today. Its petals shining pink. Its smell so sweet and so pure. It wasn’t May—the season of roses. It was February—an icy cold winter afternoon. And yet the rose blossomed as if it didn’t care. The cold winds slapped its tender face every day. Its lips froze every morning due to frost. Yet the rose smiled and bloomed as if it was already May.
How many roses are like that? None. She was unique. When I saw that rose, I thought—why wasn’t I like her? Why didn’t I have the strength to fight the icy cold feelings of failure every day? Why can’t I be happy as I’m during the summers?
And I desired—I wish I was like that rose blossoming with defiance in February.”
Anuj looked at her. It was the same rose they had spotted while coming out of Kenwood House. Ella’s writing made a strange impact. He felt a renewed vigour surging through his body. She had restored him to his former—happier self. She’d given him the courage to continue with life. No matter what challenges he faced. And for that he would be eternally grateful to her.
Ella closed her diary and handed it over to him. Anuj was surprised.
“Why are you giving it to me? Aren’t these your most precious and private feelings?”
Ella nodded. “Yes they are. I’m giving it to you so you can read it every day. I want to heal you with my feelings.”
“Thank you so much,” said Anuj, and he hugged her again. Suddenly, the sun pierced through the dark clouds.
In those sun rays, he saw Nisha’s smiling face.
“Love isn’t only about giving each other expensive gifts. It’s about sharing your most intense feelings and the ups and downs of your life. It’s about making the other person feel comfortable and happy,” Nisha had said.
Ella had gifted him something that was so precious to her. Her warm and intense feelings. With her feelings she wanted to make him feel happy. That was the best gift he had ever received from anyone. A belated birthday gift! Which was way better than getting any damned shirt or tie, howsoever expensive they might be.
He looked at Ella and saw a lot of affection in her eyes. He hugged her again and without thinking kissed her for the first time. Surprisingly, she didn’t resist and kissed him back. They lip-locked for a long time. It was the most romantic moment of his life.
Anuj’s kiss felt so warm and so lovely. Ella had kissed guys before but she had never felt as emotional as she felt this time. There was something so special about Anuj and his unusually, quiet nature.
Then something happened to her. It wasn’t a nice feeling. Her head started pounding. Her stomach burned and her chest pained. Her breathing became shallow. And she started seeing those bright lines again.
Anuj felt something was wrong.
“Ella? Are you alright?”
“No. I’m not feeling too well. It’s so cold,” said Ella. Her voice was barely audible.
Anuj saw her lips becoming blue. Blood appeared to drain away from her fingertips too. He hadn’t realised how thin her hair had become. Ella’s face had become deathly white. He panicked.
“Ella! Can someone please help me?” Anuj screamed.
