Day 06 (5 January 2008)

The not-so-beautiful Taj

People often say that the journey is more important than the actual destination. People are right.

It had been several months since I had confessed my love to Khushi. Although I did not get a 'yes', I felt as though a heavy burden had been lifted off me. I felt at ease around her, not afraid any more. She now knew how I felt, making it easier for me to do anything for her, without having to give an explaination. I was grateful to Khushi for being very understanding about my feelings. After her initial outburst, she had calmed down. We talked more, shared more. I had found a wonderful friend in her.

The dreaded board exams were around the corner.  My school was kind enough to organise a trip to Agra which would help us unwind for the last time before we got busy with our academics.

I was aghast when I found out that Khushi had opted out of the trip. If she did not go, neither would I. All my friends tried in vain to convince me to join them on the last trip together before everyone went their separate ways. I felt horrible about abandoning my friends, but I would feel more horrible visiting Taj Mahal, the symbol of love, without my love by my side.

The night before the trip, I found out that Khushi's friends had convinced her to come. Without realising the time, I called the teacher in charge of the trip, woke him up from his sleep and begged and pleaded to him to let me come to the trip. He said I could come. Not because he felt sorry for me, but because he wanted me to leave him alone and let him sleep.

A few hours later, I was sitting at the back of the bus with my jolly friends, on our way to Agra. Khushi sat near the window, a few rows ahead, with our principal next to her. I formulated a plan to get the principal out of her seat. I asked my friends to be unusually noisy. They obliged. I went up to the pricipal, complained of a headache, explained I could not sit amid the noise at the back and requested her to switch seats with me. She obliged.

Though I sat next to Khushi, I did not start a conversation with her. I turned my back to her and started chatting to a friend sitting accross the aisle. I started telling her that I had a severe headache and travelling sickness (I was not completely honest, of course). "Why don't you take some medicine?", Khushi's voice asked from behind me. I told her that I did not have any at the moment and then pretended to go to sleep.

She started playing antakshari with her friends a little later. Singing louder and louder in a attempt to irritate me. I still pretended to be asleep. A few minutes into the game, she got stuck. Her friends started couting down the time she had to come up with a song. I could not resist and bust into a song with 2 seconds to spare.

The long drive to Agra seemed very short after that. When we got there, a guide started showing us around the Taj Mahal. While Khushi and the others marvelled at the magnificent building, I spent the entire time gazing at her. The white marble building in the background seemed to pale behind her mesmerising face.

Our bus halted at Mathura on the way back.

As I joined my hands in front of Lord Krishna's statue, with Khushi right beside me, I prayed for her to be mine some day. "Lord Krishna fulfills your wish only if you mean it", she whispered to me, almost as if she knew what I was praying for. GOD KNOWS I MEANT IT WITH ALL MY HEART!

While the others were boarding the bus to get back home, my eyes fell on a small gol-gappa stall. Khushi loved gol-gappe. I ran to the shop (ignoring the teacher shouting at me) and asked the vender to pack a few plates. He said he did not entertain "take-away customers". I ended up buying polybags from the neighbouring shop and packing them myself. The gol-gappe got circulated in the bus but she got one. My effort did not go futile.

Now that I look back on the trip in retrospect, I don't recall what I had seen at Agra, I don't recall the fun I had with my friends on the way. The fondest memories I have of the trip are the stupid excuse I made to sit with her, the song I sang so that she did not lose a round of antakshari, the polybags that cost me more than 5 plates of golgappe and praying to God, standing next to her.

It's not the Taj that made the trip memorable, It's the beautiful face in front of the marble building.