Of That Day, I Remember Every Single Detail.

I was scared shitless and I was looking around my strange surroundings with more anxiety than curiosity. Being geographically challenged, I was desperately hunting for maps to guide me to the Great Hall (and then to make matters worse, the maps said, "you are here", and I did not know how to get there from here, I mean where do you go from here when here is a circular dot!). I had earlier called him at his residence only to find that he wasn't available. The guy at the front-desk had taken a message for him. Then, he had called while I was collecting my money. I was thrilled to hear him talk in Marathi. It was quite sometime before that had happened. We had fixed a date to meet up at the Great Hall. And the challenge of getting there was boggling the wits out of me. I was looking around for a familiar face amongst the stiff-upper-lipped population of disinterested strangers. I felt lonely. A friendly Black-American saw me, I think I looked obviously lost. It took me close to a few seconds to answer in the affirmative. I felt so racist! (I am not like that usually, I blame the hostility I felt on those empty streets). He asked me this-and-that and before I could ask his name, we were already at the Great Hall. I thanked him with gratitude that's unparalleled till date. I walked into the iron gate, and into the ornate wooden doors that led me up to the grand, red-carpeted staircase, huge portraits of ex-Chancellors and such hanging on the enormous golden walls that seemed to stretch out to the sky. Awe-struck, I suddenly felt under-dressed and awkward in my shoes. I saw the signs directing me to the right room. I wasn't interested in anything I saw in the room. My eyes were searching for him. The only thing we knew about each other at that point in time was the clothes we were supposed to have on on that day; him, a UMM red pullover and me my worn-out Benetton pullover. And yet I was looking for a face. Weird, right? We saw each other almost simultaneously, and to noone's surprise we identified the pullovers! I almost wanted to give him a huge hug just because he was there. I felt immensely happy to see him. We looked around the exhibition. Conversation flowed as if we were old friends catching up. We came out of the Great Hall and I realized for the very first time what a beautiful day it was! Spring flowers all around with clear weather and warm sun, we were already making lunch plans at 11am. Eating out was not even an option. We walked all over discovering and re-discovering the place, finding new ways to get to the same place (the place that was later to be my favourite place to have all my lone lunches). Thankfully, at least he was geographically sound and we came out of the place eventually. We headed back to his place to get our lunch sorted. I instantly fell in love with the apartment complex. (I loved it so much, I later exchanged my far better accomodation for that place! Plus, the fact that everyone I knew was living there helped too). He lived in the basement. It looked dingy. He took me to his room. It was a mess. It looked like what it was supposed to be, a straight man's bachelor pad. Strangely, I always thought bachelor pads had pictures of naked girls on the walls. I was disappointed there, but what a relief that was! There was a Ferrari model (red) lying on his table, CDs and books strewn around. Clothes adorned all the empty spaces. He piled them elsewhere and made place for me to sit. And if you know how spring beds are, you will fully appreciate how difficult it was to sit on the very springy edge of the one I was sitting on. I was glad when we headed to the kitchen to cook ourselves some Maggie. Before entering the kitchen, we found a note addressed to him. It said, "Call back. Ewooja." The front-desk person had just dropped the note four and half hours after I had left the message, with my name all messed-up! (He still calls me that). While he was making Maggie, he told me he was a brilliant cook, apparently he had taken cooking classes! He could make Butter Chicken, Roasted chicken, Biryani, Makhanwala, Fish Curry, Rotis and what-not. I was floored. We had a quick lunch and headed to the City-Centre. On our way we met some more of our kind and we shopped for food. We came back from the City-Centre, had similar dinner. We wanted to experience the wild night life people had promised this place would have, we went back to the city. Within a couple of minutes we had already gotten ourselves nicely lost. We were two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl. Walking on strange streets we came to the theatre. We had no identification on us to prove that we were students. I had a mere 5 quid in my pocket and he had 3. The ticket for one non-student was that much! It was late and there weren't too many people around wanting to catch "The Longest Yard" at a theatre near them. He was short and I looked right out-of-school. They figured we were students after all and let us in for 3.50 a head. We came out to streets complete with flashy, half-inebriated, pub-hopping under-grads. It looked like any University city looks at that time of the night. We walked back to his place. Chit-chatted for a couple of hours. I was scared to go home alone so he walked me home. It had just rained and the streets, washed clean seemed different. I was weary. I was looking forward to the warmth and coziness of my bed. I reached home and cried myself to sleep.
(I now know (almost!) what James Joyce was feeling when he wrote 'Ulysees'!)
I met a million strangers that day, some of them I became best-friends with. And him, we hung out together for a week. I moved into the same apartment complex as him on the top-most floor. And then we went our own ways, cordially meeting once in a while to talk about this-and-that. He grew into a different set of people and I into a completely different set. Through it all and a thousand days later, I still remember every single detail of that day.
Every detail is etched in my memory. Every detail as if it happened yesterday. Every detail as if that day was all that would ever matter. Every detail as if it was the best day of my life. Every detail as if it was the beginning of the rest of my life.