Lotus for the skies(Shibabrata Sen Chaudhury) While waiting at the lounge prior to boarding Etihad Airways flight at Indira Gandhi International Airport in New Delhi for a business trip scheduled in Muscat, dressed up in casuals with a chained brown leather jacket, pair of Levi’s jeans and feet shoed in Woodlands branded footwear; a sudden glimpse of her, sparked the olden memories of schooldays during teenage spent in proximity with Mrinalinee. The flash of her ripen looks couldn’t entirely get wiped out of thoughts, as that young face remained latent in a certain space of my subconscious mind. The looks cheered me to rise from the seated posture and gradually walk towards her, as she was on her way to exit through the doorway from where the airhostesses make early entrance inside the plane for making advance flight preparation. She looked amazingly beautiful with needless question to ask, as being uniformed like a stewardess of Etihad. “Mrinalinee, right? Can you recognize me?”, were the questions I threw on her from behind, as she looked back to raise her brows in surprise among the lot of cabin crew of the aircraft. “Hey, aren’t you Ajitabh? You have put on a bit of weight,” placed me in some respite, as our meeting by fate begun with a new probable saga that rekindled certain hope in me after seven years. However, her professional attitude didn’t let me buy much time from her to share the episodes of time gaps in between us, since our last meeting at Singerbill airport in Agartala years back. She had settled in Abu Dhabi to accommodate with her professional lifestyle, and her shared dreams about careerist goals with me almost a decade ago has unfurled in present chapter of today.

The rejuvenated memories weren’t ready to leave my thoughts as I boarded inside the flight with expectation to meet her again. The face I was seeking for didn’t come on appearance, when I got seated at the allotted seat mentioned on the boarding pass. Changing my mobile network into flight mode, I fastened the seat belt, while the flight was supposed to take off within next ten minutes. The closeness we shared between us grew to an extent in past, from where we were tagged as life partners during schooldays by many friends. She was daughter of a drilling engineer transferred to Oil Company in Tripura. By virtue, both of us were born to Bengali parents, and coincidentally our fathers worked for the same organization. Her first glimpse stole away sleeps of few nights of mine, while she was present in principal’s room for admission interview when I entered the chamber of the principal with certain personal motive. I was studying on Eleventh standard of the school when she got admitted at Ninth standard on that moment. The sight shared with attractiveness between us were infatuations on probable note, though friendship developed with spontaneous appeal for versatile talent that both us shared by adoring each other with passing times.

She was one of the melodious singers at the school, when I requested her to sing her best Bengali song on the stage during a Teachers’ Day programme, as our intimacy grew on natural instincts – the cricketing flair of mine for hers and the melodic voices of her that I used to admire, while floating on the swings together inside the gardened school premises during recess. Her initial pranks to blind me from behind by covering my eyes with the soft palms, brought spontaneous name of hers, ‘Mrinalinee’ from my mouth. And she used to ask, “How can you reply so swiftly?”, to which my answer was always, “It happens naturally”. The plane was flying high above the clouds from where I aspired to meet Mrinalinee, but remained clueless about her existence in this specific flight, with the believe of conquering the skies on the day, which brought certain relevance with meaning of my Hindu name ‘Ajitabh’ ~ Conqueror of skies. An airhostess arrived during the flight to serve me with morning breakfast with a tissue paper, and whispered close near to my ears, “Check something written on back of the tissue paper”, and left me wishing luck with her thumb upward. Turning the paper, I discovered the handwriting that was recognizable, which opened a new door of communication being mentioned:
Email: mrinalinee_sinha@post.com and Cell# +971 889405360.

Sooner have I saved the cell number and contact email at the mobile set of mine, which shall remain secured because I had always wished her on birthday for last seven years to get no response from her earlier email address.

However, I kept the tissue paper inside the pocket of my jacket, which could possibly pull her closer to my heart with certain expectation resurfacing golden days on the fore from the times of past. ‘Tolo Chinno Bina, Bandho Natun Tare’, a Bengali song was the best of her choices that she sang during the programme on Teachers’ Day, which meant: Raise your discarded chords, and tune your strings. The song that showered recognitions from several corners of the school for Mrinalinee, with deepening ties between us as school friends. Her looks of designing hair strands in plaits have changed to clipped bun being capped by Etihad uniform protocol, but the mature looks of her didn’t disappear the wholehearted smiles and chuckles she always used to share with me back in schooldays, which I observed while she was walking with her crew members at New Delhi airport. On instances we also used to visit the homes of each other, till the time her Papa remained posted in Tripura.

Pampered in a relationship by our parents, we never expected our bond to fade away gradually with passing time, as her father chose to change his company to join another firm in Abu Dhabi later. Truly, certain points where debates used to spark on occasions between us – “Your thought process is much alike a visionary, Ajitabh”, was often what Mrinalinee argued, interjecting her viewpoint, “You should learn to climb a single stair before dreaming of reaching the top floor”. The small capital town of Tripura had little options for us to date outdoor, so most of our conversations were done over the telephone, outside school timings. But, she was eager of fashioning herself with most latest dresses available in the market with changing trends, and it happened on several instances when she trialled with clothes to earn praises from my mouth.

On rare instances, I noticed her eyelids droop while caressing the hair of hers and then on many occasions had to oil massage her haired skull, which she acknowledged to be better than what her mother does with similar activities. We never needed to propose each other or give a name to the bond, that still exists as an everlasting relation of tie as friends. And expected to maintain it as an evergreen plant, which can place us under a single umbrella of true love, no matter what pick we have in life. The innocent neatness was always kept between our relation during the teenage, though we had several opportunities of lovemaking. It rarely happened on occasions when we didn’t used to share the Tiffin of each other during interval period at school. And always worried her or me, if one of us remain absent on any specific day from the school.

Priorities of life might have separated us for years on several occasions; however, my tenacious search for her in several school alumni websites and UAE educational institutes remained unending, though I never expected a surprised meeting during a trip away from homeland. And also unsure about the status, questionably – married or single under current circumstances. Being a Scorpio by zodiac sign her birthday is nearing and I made another ‘reminder’ inclusion into my mobile set dated on November 10 as her birthday, to wish her on the definite email address or supposedly give her a phone call. Still keeping my teenage love alive to return with certain optimism on some point of life, where our emotional strings that appeared to get torn away seemed to rejoin with ‘Mrinalinee ~ Lotus’ for the skies.

Waking up to a known voice of stewardess’ announcement ~ ‘Mrinalinee’, if I haven’t mistaken her tones before the flight lands in the foreign soil, certain intuition appealed from depth to meet her prior to leaving the jet. From the position where I was sitting, her face wasn’t visible; but still a strong sense touched my emotions to trust on getting an everlasting glance of hers. The flight landed usually on correct time at Seeb International Airport , but I couldn’t find Mrinalinee in near distance. However, walking closer to the exit doorway of the plane, her sight flashed before my eyes while she was bidding ‘goodbye’ to the passengers. As I walked near towards her noticing closely, her eyelids drooped with no voice specifying to wish me. Turning back once more before checking out of the flight by looking beyond my shoulders, I mentioned with specification, “Thank you Mrinalinee”. Seven years back a similar situation happened with an altered destiny when I saw her off at Singerbill airport and today she has placed her silent returns while I stepped down in Muscat.

Destiny in the rotating and revolving planet surfaced many lines of broken and joint fates between Mrinalinee and Ajitabh. As human relations depend on boundaries of several societal, sentimental and emotional existence, where ripples of breathe keeps alive the weakened bonds, which don’t dissipate entirely amid flow of naturally moving life.

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