home

search

CHAPTER 8 - TARANG

  CHAPTER 8

  TARANG

  January passed just like that. My Amma’s words came true. I could not keep up my promise of attending classes regularly. I completely forgot about Zayn and got busy with college life.

  As February came to a close, numerous activities were unfolding at college, and our college festival, ‘Tarang’, was officially announced. We were filled with excitement and began planning our outfits in advance. Tarang was a three-day festival, providing us with a much-needed break from our busy schedules. The University of Delhi is renowned for its lively college festivals. To enjoy Tarang, which was set for the first week of March, we requested our professors to conduct our initial round of internal exams and assignments beforehand. Since it was a three-day event, I chose to attend only on the first and last days, opting to miss the second day. This was an emotional time for us, as we reflected on the fact that this would be our final Tarang as graduating students of LSR. We started watching some saree draping tutorials on YouTube. I decided to wear a black saree belonging to my mother, adorned with red roses. It was a saree that had been in my family for 15 years. While Jenya and Praba opted for sarees, Isha decided on a lehenga.

  The next morning, we got up and began to prepare ourselves. We needed to reach the campus before the 11 am entry deadline. I carefully draped my saree, watching YouTube tutorials, and received some assistance from Praba. After an hour of trial and error, I finally felt satisfied with my final attempt. Since we were running behind schedule, I quickly put on my heels and hurried to college. Jenye, Isha, and Praba went off with their friends from their department, and I told them, “I’m heading to the game zone and will catch up with you all in an hour.”

  When I passed the college gate after the security checkup, I started to walk down the lawn to reach the game zone. I could not take my eyes off the mesmerizing campus. Each corner was decorated, there were music playing, dances happening, lots of varieties of food stall and most importantly, the rare sight in LSR that is the whole campus was filled with boys. Studying at girls’ college is empowering, freedom to do anything, we can wear anything but there used to be some kind of emptiness sometimes and that is no sight of boys around the campus.

  I visited the stalls that were showcasing some stunning earrings, where I encountered Janaki, one of my few friends from class, who was selling them. We were chatting and laughing about the unique atmosphere at LSR that day. Suddenly, I noticed a boy standing just behind me. I stepped aside a bit to allow him to see the earrings on display. As we continued our conversation, I could sense that the boy was gazing at me; one of the gifts of being a woman is our ability to easily tell when someone is staring. To find out who it was, I decided to glance sideways, but the intense heat from the sun hit my face. I placed my palm on my face and turned to see a handsome guy in a grey hoodie. I looked in his face, with his hair falling down and partially covering his small forehead. My thoughts were clear. I didn’t know him and had never seen him before. At that moment, he shifted his gaze from mine to the items for sale. I walked away from the stall, saying goodbye to Janaki.

  Suddenly I got a call from Jenya saying that she was leaving and won’t be able to attend the concert as she made a plan to go out with her department friends. I was walking towards the game zone and my phone rang. I took the call and I couldn’t hear anything because of the loud music. The number was also not saved on my phone. I cut the call, bought a cup of mojito and was exploring the games displayed and saw the Duolingo sponsored game. Suddenly, the thought of a prank call came into my mind. While sipping the mojito, somebody tapped on my shoulder.

  If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  I glanced back to see Isha and her friends. They suggested we give the Duolingo game a try, claiming it would be enjoyable to engage with words. I agreed and participated; after my turn, I won a diary. While Isha was taking her turn, I stepped back a bit. Out of nowhere, a deep masculine voice came from behind me and said,

  ‘’I think Duolingo is your favourite’’,

  I turned to see, and it was that boy, the handsome greyish hoodie from the stall.

  ‘’Sorry, I didn’t get what you said”

  ‘’Oh, I was just saying that you are good at Duolingo game and I saw you playing it now’’.

  I smiled at him and replied “oh well, thank you, I think anyone can play it. It’s easy and not that tough”.

  He was gazing gently into my eyes with his warm, chocolate-brown gaze. This time, everything felt clearer, and I could truly see him. He had a lovely brown complexion, stood tall, and had a strong, muscular frame. His forehead was soft and adorned with slightly tousled black hair. His nose and lips were perfectly shaped, so inviting that I found it hard to focus on his eyes and got pleasantly distracted.

  He replied, “oh well, I played but couldn’t get to translate one Hindi word to English”.

  I inquired, “which one”?

  “Khoobsurat”.

  I told,” oh it’s an easy one, it means beautiful”.

  He smiled at me, then removed his hand from his pocket and folded it. For an instant, I wondered if I had upset him or if he felt uncomfortable when I referred to the term as something easy.

  “Being a south Indian, you are good at Hindi. I am feeling a little jealous”.

  My noticeable South Indian accent often made it easy for others to identify my background. I grinned, feeling completely puzzled, and just as I was about to inquire if he spoke Hindi, a boy standing some distance away shouted, “Captain!”. He glanced over at me and remarked,

  “Okay, thank you, I have to go, bye”.

  I beamed and gave him a nod of acknowledgment. Just then, Isha approached me, wrapping up her game with a happy glow. I excitedly shared the story of what had just happened, and she instantly lit up with curiosity, eager to see for herself. When I pointed in her direction, she looked utterly amazed and exclaimed,

  “He clearly looks like a North Indian and it’s not possible to believe that he doesn’t know the meaning of ‘khoobsurat’. Maybe he is trying to find something to talk to you. But his Duolingo joke reminds me of someone else.”

  ‘’No way it’s him. Maybe he might be not knowing the word meaning”.

  “Maybe it won’t be him, but it’s impossible for one not to know the meaning of khoobsurat. Anyway, come on let’s go to the ground for concert” Isha replied.

  We danced until we could hardly catch our breath, completely forgetting we were in sarees. As the last song played, I noticed him slipping away from the crowd.

  A few hours later, when the fest wrapped up, we headed back to our place. On the way, my curiosity about whether the boy I met earlier could be Zayn definitely grew. Once we got hostel, I excitedly asked Jenya if she got a photo of him. I shared my thoughts about this intriguing guy and mentioned how his comments about Duolingo seemed a bit suspicious. She chuckled and said I was probably imagining things and tying everything back to Zayn a bit too much.

  Even though I had a feeling, I might be overthinking things, I decided to push those thoughts aside. I changed into my cozy pajamas and snuggled into bed. Unfortunately, for the next couple of days, I struggled with some rather intense back pain from those pesky heels.

  The excitement of Tarang lasted for three vibrant days, but the energy of the crowd at LSR was still buzzing. Right after Tarang, we had a sports meet where all the colleges would come together to participate. As usual, I prepared myself for my first class at 8:45, completely unaware that this day was about to transform my life in ways I couldn’t imagine.

Recommended Popular Novels