LOVE JIHAD-AT A COFFEE SHOP

LOVE JIHAD-AT A COFFEE SHOP

At twenty six, was Gayatri Iyer a typical Tam Brahm? Well endowed, blessed with sparkling white teeth, her beautiful eyes were forlorn. She had renewed her passion for dancing at Natyashala under the watchful eyes of Swati Sengupta and Ananya Satpathi. As a prodigious performer she became the cynosure of all aspiring dancers and her Gurus too.

 Syed too was twenty six and had become an inseparable part of Natyashala. He performed chores and ran errands for the Gurus and dancers, becoming a vital cog in the wheel of the set up. He was paid handsomely for sustenance.

 He was gifted and had a point to prove to the world. Syed skilfully played several musical instruments, sang soulfully and multi-tasked as the spot boy, technician, makeup man and also danced with remarkable grace.

 Sengupta and Satpathi believed that if there was something called previous birth then Syed would have been a Gandharva. They conjured a dance drama – Shiva Ranjini, with Syed to play Shiva and Gayatri to play Ranjini. As accomplished dancers and discerning observers they could spot the chemistry between Syed and Gayatri.

Gayatri always reported late for practice on Saturdays as she had to visit Anjaneya Swami temple. While pouring oil on the figures of Lord Saturn and Hanuman and post circumambulation nine and five times respectively, she thought not about the proposed dance drama or her practises but the disturbed mind was fixated on Syed and the child.

 As a single parent, holding a job with Infoysys and also pursuing her passion, she was forced to admit her child to a boarding school. She had recently relocated from Ambala Cantonment in a bid to overcome the tragic events which had engulfed her life. Syed was also at Bangalore.

On Fridays Syed was at the mosque reciting the Azan. He too could not concentrate on the prayers as his thoughts meandered to Gayatri’s mental condition and also the child at the boarding school.

Ten years ago when merely sixteen Gayatri in her innocent teens watched ‘The Sound of Music’, flitting like Julie Andrews and mellifluously sang ‘I am sixteen going on seventeen’…………… Her father wore army fatigues at Badarpur, tackling insurgency in the theatre of conflict of the North East. The decorated army man commanded the regiment apart from being a fitness freak. 

Gayatri and her friends once bunked school to sip coffee at Café Coffee Day, when a well chiselled and handsome youth appeared in the shop. Gayatri gushed and swooned, recounting in a flash those memorable scenes from ‘The Sound of Music’.

As their eyes met, heart beats skipped. He was Syed from Aligarh who joined his father Mohammad at Badarpur on that fateful day which was to transform his life forever.

At the crack of dawn every morning a half asleep Gayatri, eyes glazed and her exhausted mother Shardha had to perforce accompany the Colonel for a jog in the sprawling army grounds.

They were ferried by batman Mohammad in a rickety Mahindra jeep. The family were smartly saluted by the father and son duo. ‘One day your son will make India and you proud’, was the refrain of the battled hardened army man, ‘and those Pakis appearing on the rambunctious TV shows will feel ashamed’. Syed used to grin sheepishly and Mohammad looked philosophically at Colonel Saheb.

 Iyer, a family man to the core and a lover of nature made it a point to take his family to Jatinga, nestled on the Lumding–Badarpur rail line on the fourth Saturday of every month. The sky was azure blue; air was fresh and atmosphere was salubrious. Shardha served idli, vada and sambar which were relished by the ravenous lot.

 Sometime in the evening, as it darkened and shadows lengthened the sun sank into the imposing mountain range. The five souls could see a train at a distance traversing the serpentine curves, dexterously motored by the driver well ensconced in the bullet proof engine. As the train approached Jatinga station the driver invariably honked.

 As if on cue, birds screeched and dived in unison and committed Hara-Kiri. The sight appeared gruesome but Colonel Iyer felt delighted and loudly proclaimed, ‘The Bofors gun of our regiment will pummel all Paki planes and they will crash land like these birds.’

The demure Gayatri shrivelled and was frazzled at the sight and quietly clasped Syed’s hands for comfort. Syed spent the entire day waiting in anticipation of this poignant moment. The strapping youth was dazzled by the beautiful Gayatri. He held her hands tightly and felt bouts of energy and electricity running through his mind and body.

Syed was a smart cookie and applauded all the statements made by the pompous regimental chief and soon ingratiated himself with the Colonel. The monthly excursion became a weekly exercise and Gayatri grabbed those half   chances to clasp the hands of her Syed even more intently.

Shardha was to make more idlis, vadas and sambar. Mrs. Iyer’s culinary preparations were legendary. Syed helped her to identify a temple at Jatinga, where mother and daughter paid obeisance to Pawan Putra and a figure which purportedly looked like the Shani Devata. The temple was derelict and several of the Navagrahas were missing or disfigured courtesy the vagaries of weather, passage of time and hardly any maintenance.

There was no mosque in the vicinity, but Mohammed and Syed offered their prayers to their maker religiously. While offering Namaz, at sixteen, Syed thought of Gayatri; and as she prayed to Hanumanji, mischievously and furtively   pined for Syed. Their infatuation was slowly blossoming into something deeper.

Sharadha was particular that Gayatri become proficient in Tamil and learn Bharat Natyam. Colonel Iyer identified a Tamil couple in the barracks. Mrs. Somasundaram fit the bill. Years back, she learned dance at Kumbakkonam but was still no more than a tyro. However, Shardha and Gayatri were left with little choice at Badarpur.

Inspired by Gayatri and also to remain in her constant presence, Syed expressed a desire to learn dance and Tamil. Colonel Iyer was surprised but gave in to the entreaties of his batman’s son much to the discomfiture of Shardha and Mrs. Somasundaram.

Syed became a regular visitor to the army club at Badarpur and began learning various musical instruments. Referring to Syed, Lt. Col. Rathi remarked that some are remarkably gifted.

 His son Rajeev studying at Doon School had meanwhile come over for a short vacation to Badarpur. Rajeev Rathi smitten by Gayatri, craved for her attention and was desperate to possess her. It was more of youthful lust. He inherited all the genes from his flamboyant mother, who wore tight fitting jeans, coloured her hair with peroxide, ate caviar, drank wine and smoked cigarettes in a holder.

The Rathis hosted a dinner to which some high ranking civilians of the district and officers of the regiment were invited. Mohammad with Syed in tow, were borrowed from the Iyers to prepare non vegetarian delicacies. They spread a sumptuous fare.

Syed impressed the gathering with his mellifluous renditions and increasing mastery over the flute. Though it was not her official Arangetram, Gayatri danced with felicity. It was champagne time. Mohammad rocketed into the stratosphere and the Iyers were suitably impressed at the dancing skills of the apple of their eyes.

Syed and Gayatri blushed and in the dark corner of the bungalow shared their first passionate kiss. This was noticed by a covetous Rajeev.

An inflamed Rajeev cut short his holiday and left for Dehradun the following morning, but not before revealing the developing relationship to his mother.

The vicarious Mrs. Rathi promptly dragged her husband to his superior and some secrets emerged from the closet.

An infuriated Colonel deported Mohammad from the unit. A visibly shaken Mohammad reprimanded his son and they left Badarpur. Tears welled up in Gayatri’s eyes and Syed bore the brunt of Colonel Iyer’s ire and belt. His soul and body were bruised beyond repair.

The enraged Colonel was determined to fix Mohammad and his errant son. Lt. Col. Rathi was a willing, recumbent accomplice in this act of moral and intellectual turpitude. The defenceless batman was branded as a fifth columnist, apparently engaging in covert dealings with some Naga rebels.

As the Iyers and Rathis celebrated, Mohammad bore the cross, was cashiered from service and sentenced to ten years of rigorous imprisonment.

 Syed relocated from Badarpur to Bangalore. He began working at a coffee shop for a living, ruing the misfortune that had befallen the family. The events of Badarpur made him extremely impregnable.  He remained passionate about Gayatri and his love for music and dance only magnified, becoming a consummate performer. To fulfil his ambitions he joined Natyashala, on the outskirts of Bangalore.

Colonel Iyer had once gifted him with a smartphone. He used the instrument to keep track of Gayatri. They texted and whenever possible spoke. But the scars of Badarpur were yet to heal. The events were disturbing and he was distraught.

 To blank his system from the innuendoes and barbs about his father, Syed watched Chak De! India, a few hundred times. Mohammad for no fault was disgraced like Kabir Khan, but the son was determined to restore family pride and honour.

Meanwhile time flew and Badarpur was a closed chapter. The daughter remained devastated but the father gained professionally. Colonel Iyer was rewarded for his bravery especially in nabbing an ultra (Mohammad) at a great personal risk. He was promoted to become a Brigadier.

The Brigadier deserved a peace time posting and so the Iyers spent five years at the Wellington Staff College. Gayatri graduated in computer sciences from Ooty, while Syed continued brewing coffee for a living and honing his dancing skills at the dancing school.

 When Gayatri was shy of her twenty fourth birth day the Brigadier was transferred to Ambala Cantonment. Despite the entire wherewithal at his disposal he could not locate the whereabouts of Syed. Now a Major General, he ruminated and fulminated that Syed was in a state of permanent Agyatvasa. This was perhaps the only blemish in his career which was otherwise replete with valour.

Upon his release from jail, Mohammad discovered that Major General Iyer was posted at Ambala Cantonment. He reached the Cantonment in the sultry month of August, seeking to avenge his lost pride.

 For days he snooped on the family. And one day, finding all alone Gayatri, he outraged her modesty repeatedly as she shrieked for help. He wept while performing the reprehensible act for he treated Gayatri as his own daughter. It was time for retribution and he was flooded with demonic   emotions. For Mohammad it was an August requiem and Gayatri lost her chastity and virginity to a ghoul possessed with angst and resentment. Rape is no subject of fun.

Gayatri had been married to Captain Iyengar a few months prior to the incident. They could never consummate the marriage as the young captain suffered from erectile dysfunction. Tragedy struck her life yet again when the captain was felled to the bullets of militants at Pathankot.

Syed continued to yearn   for Gayatri and she was hypnotised and besotted by him. The Universe is not so cruel and they were destined to meet at some point in time.

 Gayatri left Bangalore to join an acclaimed dance academy at Chennai. She was awarded the Padma Sri for her contribution to Indian classical dance. On the flight back from Delhi, Sharadha examined Gayatri closely and catechised her as to whether she missed Syed. The daughter felt the flight to be too turbulent. Mothers have a sixth sense she thought! She too was a mother.

Fifteen years is a long period in a lifetime. Gayatri and Syed had moved on. The once demure Gayatri was now an acclaimed dancer, a writer of some repute, TED talker and also a cancer survivor apart from having been feted with the   Padma Bhushan.

 Syed was a successful entrepreneur, running a chain of coffee shops. Destiny conspired that they meet again. She was asked to head Natyashala at Bangalore which she did without batting an eyelid. Her son was blossoming into a strapping youth and yes …. Syed was also at Bangalore.

So they met again after a gap of fifteen years, both now middle aged at forty six. She had become heavy and put on some weight. They held hands, laughed, conversed, shed copious tears and bared their souls every Thursday at the coffee shop and recounting the events of the last thirty years.

 The ‘Forever Brewing’ chain of coffee shops dotted the metropolises of the country; the USP being live dance and flute performances every evening. The logo skilfully incorporated the letter ‘G’.

Gayatri had lost her parents, but every Saturday paid the customary visit to Anjaneya Swami temple. Now it was a true seeking of refuge in the Divine and providing succour for her tormented soul and ravaged body. Several years ago it was a perfunctory exercise, but today it provided the much needed solace.
Syed and Gayatri didn't mean to fall in love. But love happens when you least expect it. It creeps up suddenly. When someone needs attention, care, conversation, laughter and maybe even intimacy. Love doesn't look at logic, or at backgrounds and least of all, religion.
Gayatri was from a very conservative South Indian family that went to a temple every Saturday. Syed bought goats for his family every Eid. That said it all. Their paths would never have crossed if it hadn't been for that fateful day. That day when he walked into the coffee shop. Gayatri wondered if destiny chose our loved ones for us. Did we have any role to play at all?

She looked at her watch. Syed was late. They met every Thursday at five pm to catch up. Their conversation lasted for hours. Sometimes at the cafe, sometimes in his car, sometimes in places that she could never tell her friends about. They would never understand. And yet Syed made her happy.

Suddenly her phone beeped. He had sent a message. " On my way. Have something important to tell you."

Gayatri stared at it and realised she had knots in her stomach. Thoughts flooded her mind. What did he want to tell her?

 Syed reached ‘Forever Brewing’ and promptly hugged Gayatri. Syed whispered that Ramesh Iyengar had died in a plane crash. Gayatri smiled wryly and whispered back, “He was your brother and I am your mother”.

 An ashen faced Syed slumped to the ground and Gayatri left to pay obeisance at Anjaneya Swami temple. This time the Navagrahas were prominently visible as she poured oil on Shani Devata!