The Fragrance

A strange feeling swept through him as the car drove past the familiar gates of the Indian Institute of Technology, Kharagpur. The sun was about to set and the mellow chirping of birds filled the crimson late evening sky. The car drove through the newly laid roads, past the famous landmarks and all-too-familiar turns and finally stopped at the gate of the newly renovated guest house. Aniket stepped out, took off his shades and looked around. A gentle breeze had started to blow. He closed his eyes for a moment and inhaled deeply.  A strange aroma filled his senses, something that he always associated with this place. What was that smell? He couldn’t tell exactly.

He took his small trolley bag and rolled it along to the reception. 

“Your name, sir?”

“Aniket Bhattacharya”

“Room S4”

It had been ten years since he last came here. Or rather, ten years since he had left this place. He still remembered the day when he finally left the campus. He remembered how a small crowd had gathered to bid him farewell—friends, batchmates, juniors and other people around the hall.

Everyone has to leave at some point or the other, everything has to change—it’s something you cannot defy. But as you go along, you make connections, share moments and enjoy times together, and what’s life but a colorful collection of these moments—the happier you make them, the prettier the whole picture becomes. And still now, if he were to recall the happiest moments of his life, that moment would flash before his eyes. Seeing all those faces in front of him, all those hugs and “Yaar, we’ll miss you”, yes, he was happy and filled with heart-wrenching sadness…happy to be sad.

But life, as they say, isn’t a bed of roses. And time is a stealthy predator, quick to pounce on anyone too caught up in the past. Maybe that’s how he had become its prey, Aniket thought. Leaving the campus was hard, and perhaps he had never been able to leave it behind completely—it had become so deeply ingrained in him. Searching for the same footing as he had in Kgp, the big bad world outside took him by surprise. It was a different cliff to climb, or hang on to, and Aniket had taken perhaps too long to realize that. Dramatics had been his passion all through college. He never even tried to feign too much interest in academics. And not that he had lost out to others—a pretty decent job along with loads of love and respect was what he took away from kgp. But somewhere down the line, he had missed the curtain call, he hadn’t realized that the lights were off the stage and it was time for him to start playing the role of life. Amongst the numerous characters he had so deftly portrayed, his own was perhaps the one he had faltered most in playing out.

Aniket remembered the day one of his friends called him up about this Alumni Meet.

“Oye, kaisa hai tu? Bohot busy rehta hai ajkal?”

“Ya, thik hun..tu kaisa?”

“First class.  Alumni meet mein aa raha hai na?”

“Umm… I don’t know..matlab kaam hai thoda..”

“Kya kaam? C’mon Ani, u’ve missed the last three times we’ve met! Is baar to ana hi padega..”

“Ok, I’ll see…”

“See-vee kuchh nahi, you r coming, that’s all! Aur bata…kya chal raha hai…?”

That was the question he didn’t like, because he didn’t have a proper answer. He had looked out the window of his office and thought, yes, how was his life going? And there wasn’t an answer. Just as the sun was setting, an emptiness gripped him from inside, the office, the chairs, tables and the computer screen—everything seemed hollow…from inside.

Aniket looked out the window of the guest house now and felt that same feeling of emptiness. What was the cause of that pervasive nothingness? As if nothing meant anything at all? Was it that sole missing face he was still searching for in the crowd? On the day of his final journey, with friends all around, he had lingered a couple of moments longer before getting into the car, hoping perhaps to see her, one last time, to say a memorable goodbye at the least. But that was so long ago. How could it still affect him! And suddenly now, that smell again…he felt it, so deeply yet very subtly—it tickled his senses uneasily. He still couldn’t make out what it was.

The evening had been rejuvenating for some, interesting for others, but for Aniket it was about missing pieces. A part of the puzzle that didn’t fit in, dialogues that were incoherent and characters that didn’t quite play out their parts. He was desperately trying to put it all together, trying to play the part he was supposed to. That, until he caught sight of her! Everyone was busy catching up, talking about the good times, reliving the past and sometimes when the glass of memories overflowed, spilling onto the present—to talk of family, career and work. Yet he was enjoying the moment, talking about the good old times, which had been so wonderfully enjoyable. The food was sumptuous, the student representatives bubbly and enthusiastic as ever, the people moving around, meeting up, laughing and sharing. From a distance, all of a sudden, Aniket caught a glimpse of her. That pretty face had only gained a lovely matured cut in all these years. Her eyes were discerning as ever, hair beautifully laid and that smile that made hearts melt. Lisa was still as lovely as the last time he had seen her. He stood there for a moment, and the floodgates opened, letting in a mad rush of memories—ones he had let in ever so cautiously for the last ten years. The organizers were escorting them to the auditorium , where a little show had been put together. Even as the waves swirled up in his mind, Aniket walked up slowly and tapped her on the shoulder. For a moment she was startled! Then her gaze relaxed and she smiled.

The stage was lit up, as it always used to be. There was dancing, singing and some speaking—performances and people sharing their experiences. Aniket though, was in a daze. The same lights, the same stage, and he was drawn back to those days…especially one of those days. He still clearly remembered the scene. The prince had just been driven out of his native land. And now, he stood in front of his love, asking her to love him for what he was. He felt goosebumps as he remembered how he had knelt down and said, “ I am a man who has lost everything, but if there’s still something I fear to lose, it is you”. How Lisa, who was playing the princess, had turned and held his outstretched hand. At that moment, Aniket didn’t have to act—the emotions became real! He could still feel the same spotlight on them, the emotional music and the audience in silence—captured in the moment. Yes, that was the inception of their love story—albeit a fleeting one. They were like two artists and the campus was their muse. Their every work, play, laughter and love blossomed in this beautiful place. But not every play has a happy ending. Soon they realized they had run into walls—strong and unyielding, those from the world outside—those of caste, traditions and norms. Neither was courageous enough to let their ship sail in the storm, although they dearly wanted to see the other side of the sea. Times changed quickly, minds even faster, and flowers began to wilt like those that adorn the campus every spring.

Aniket looked at Lisa now who was sitting next to him. She turned and their eyes met. All these years, they had kept in touch, more like acquaintances do, only through the occasional email and deliberately so. The pain of coming close was too much to go through again. Yet still there was a feeling of comfort between them, even in silence.

 The program was about to end.

“The moon is lovely tonight. Can we go out for a bit?” she asked.

He obliged. Yes, the moon was certainly beautiful, and the stars were bright too. They sat on the lawn outside and looked up at the lonely light up in the institute tower. They had settled into an imposed status quo with their lives. Aniket knew it was not going to change. Yet he felt somehow that emptiness inside him fill up a little bit. He sat there, thrust his head back and closed his eyes. There was that breeze again. And that same fragrance, which he associated so much with this place. This time, though, he knew what it was. It was the smell of being young and fearless, of feeling at home and expressing yourself—as if nothing else mattered, it was undoubtedly the fragrance of freedom!