I was hurting. This was my last birthday as an unmarried girl and all I wanted was to feel a little special. I wanted Purva to … to … make me feel special … and he had not even called. I had contemplated calling him many times during the day but my ego had got in the way each time. ‘Why are you doing this?’ I muttered to myself. ‘What do you want to see?’
The email account was now open. It took a minute for it to all register as I hurriedly wiped away tears with the back of my hand, stunned. A couple of quick clicks and my heart skipped a few beats. Soon I was sitting ram-rod straight in my seat, too shocked for words. My inbox contained 827 unread emails from Rajeev – at least one each day since I had seen him with Teena.
The subject line of the one on top of the pile simply read, ‘Happy birthday, my special girl, a very very happy birthday’.
The email had been sent at 12.01 a.m. today.
14
I opened a random email from Rajeev. The subject line read, ‘A new start’. Curious, I read on.
Dear Kas,
Today was my first day at LBS. As I walked into class I could not believe that this was really happening to me. I had done it!
The GMAT exam, the applications, the interviews and finally the admission. Even though I don’t think you read
my emails, I cannot thank you enough. You are my inspiration, Kas.
Thank you.
Rajeev.
I opened another email.
Dear Kas,
I am working hard at LBS. At the end of the tunnel I see that MBA degree that so many covet, and I know you would be proud of me. This is hardest I have ever worked and I can see some results already. Maybe I am not empty in the head after all.
Words can inspire. They can become wings that can be used to soar high. You had so much faith in my abilities, Kas. Whenever I doubt myself, I go back to our time together and in front of me flashes your innocent, trusting face, telling me that I can do whatever I set my mind to. I did not believe you then, but I have faith in your words now.
Your words, Kas, spoken with such innocence, have stayed with me, visit me often and always give me strength and hope.
Thank you.
Rajeev.
‘He got through LBS,’ I said to myself, amazed and impressed. Out of the blue, a quiet evening spent near India Gate, almost two years ago, flashed before my eyes.
‘You don’t like to work in the corporate world, do you?’ Rajeev had asked, his dimple presenting itself to me in all its glory.
I shook my head.
‘Then what would you like to do?’
‘Study further, do another MBA perhaps,’ I said.
‘But you already have a fabulous degree,’ he had said, inching closer. His deodorant, heady and intoxicating, wafted towards me in bursts as the wind changed directions.
‘I want another degree ... from...’
‘From?’ he said, smiling.
‘London Business School,’ I said, shyly.
Rajeev looked at me, his mind elsewhere.
‘You should try too…’ I said.