Braving the deluge-inducing shower with an umbrella double her own petite size, she finally managed to arrive for the art-exhibition of her colleague Tuhina. Save for a few lone souls, whom she guessed to be the other participating artists, the gallery was starkly empty. Tuhina too was nowhere to be seen - must have gone out for tea or a smoke - Tara thought to herself, looking around and vigorously jerking her half-closed umbrella in an attempt to dry it off its rain dews, all the while.
Dabbing her moist face with the end of her dupatta, she slowly went around the oval of the gallery, pausing to stand before each mounted photograph - inching closer, backing away, and losing herself in the moment of this stolen time here and that frozen space there.
As the sound of the rain outside droned into a lull, Tara’s engrossment inched towards a stupor. The gallery would close in about ten more minutes, but there was still no sign of Tuhina. The others had also left, leaving Tara alone with the colourless streets, animals, buildings and humans of the city, trapped unbeknownst to them within the sleek black frames…when suddenly her eyes met his!
For a fleeting moment, Tara froze! She blinked to be sure, but yes, that was him alright! It had been seventeen long years since she’d last seen him on a rainy evening just like today. From the moment she’d turned her back on him to board S15, she’d decided to never set eyes on him again. For every day since then, she’d roamed her own city with the trepidation of a fugitive on the run: skirting possible lanes and averting familiar alleys, she’d prayed with all earnestness to not run into him. But seventeen long years hadn’t been able to prepare her for what to do, if and when she did.
Even if in the form of a prayer, thus, he had been on her mind for every day since that day. In fact, it awed her to think how even in a city of teeming millions, where people were bumping into each other at metro stations, shopping malls, bus-stops or cinema halls all the time, her prayers had steadfastly provided a shielding nimbus around her…
…Only to snap it open today, here - while she stood, all alone, soaked to the bone – no-one to turn to, no-where to hide. Just like that rainy evening seventeen years ago. His eyes, as they searched hers today remained lost, faraway and just as kind, tired and forlorn. How was it that he’d not changed one bit, while her own skin had wrinkled and her once-flowing black hair was now all short and grey? She remembered the shirt he was wearing from the star-sign on the pocket. This is still there? Goodness, she thought!
Slowly, her eyes moved away from him to focus on the scores of people beside him – some looking at their friends while they chatted, while others looking down as they walked. Somnath was the only one who kept his gaze fixed on her, even as her eyes welled up into a blur.
“It’s my favourite too” Tuhina’s voice broke Tara’s daze. “There was something about the gaze of that man-in-a-crowd that somehow seemed to perfectly embody the spirit of this city, don’t you think? I’d taken this with a film camera almost seventeen years ago…see…” said Tuhina, as she directed Tara’s attention to the date superimposed on the photograph that hung limpidly from the wall…
