The Name

My feet were freezing. The wind blew strong. The sun was shining brightly on the building in front of me but I was in the shade. Winter in Delhi is cold, very cold, and I was freezing – at least that was what my almost blue feet were indicating. I kept staring at the balcony on the building opposite mine on the floor above mine.

College in Delhi was fun and winter meant running off to my grandparents flat in Dwarka. Their sprawling flat on the 7^th floor was a piece of heaven. I was the prince of the house and grandmother spared no efforts to pamper me. There was cable television, air condition, geyser, and my favourite – the balcony overlooking the sprawling fields that had been marked for new construction. I loved sitting on the balcony. The sun shone brightly throughout the afternoon and you could see far into the distance. Sometimes the aircraft from the nearby airport could be seen gliding in to land. It was mesmerizing. I always waited desperately for winter to come so that I could go there.

The flat had three balconies and I almost never ventured to the others as they were shaded from the warm winter sun. That winter was no different. I came the very day my college closed for the winter vacations, armed with a couple of books to read while I spent time on the balcony.

With the sun shining brightly on the balcony and after taking a hot bath, I arranged the two red plastic chairs so that I could rest my feet on one and sat back closing my eyes. Minutes later my grandmother woke me up. She wanted me to remove a few articles from the balcony that lay in the shade, which was basically used as the godown. I showed my irritation at the prospect of having to leave the warmth but she kept on pestering me sweetly and finaly bribed me into going there with the promise of a special treat for dinner.

The balcony was cold. It was piled with junk. It was not the place I would like to spend an extra second in. I rummaged through the various boxes looking for the jacket that my grandmother said was there. There was this cardboard box that was sealed and I began to have a strong suspicion that the jacket was in it. I poked the box from all sides and I felt something soft inside. I caught hold of the box and heaved it off the ground – well, only the box came up and everything inside it burst out as the base gave way. I was furious. That was when I heard that soft giggle.

It came from an angel standing on the balcony of the building opposite ours and a floor above. She had been watching me and could not control herself. She put her hand on her mouth to stop giggling when she saw that I was looking at her. She was beautiful. She was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. The sun shone brightly on her face and I could see her eyes twinkling. She was magical. Her jet black hair that she was trying to comb blew in the air. I forgot where I was or the sense of anything. I was completely mesmerized by her. My grandmother broke my trance by screaming at me from inside. I smiled at her and she smiled back. Reluctantly I went back inside.

My grandmother was very surprised when I came inside empty handed. I had completely forgotten about the jacket. This made me very happy and I rushed back to the balcony. She was not there but the jacket was – lying on the floor below a few other things. I checked my watch. It was one thirty in the afternoon.

The next day I took my bath quite early in the morning. My favourite balcony was no more my favourite. I had to see this girl again. I stationed myself at the balcony in the shade from noon onwards and tried to look busy by shifting through the stuff there but keeping a sharp eye on the balcony above. Time seemed to stand still and the cold drove me mad but I grit my teeth and stayed put. It was around one in the afternoon that she came onto the balcony in a blue dress. Her hair was wet and blew in the wind. She did her best to dry her hair in the sun and comb it. I tried to look busy but found it hard to look away from her. She looked more beautiful than the first time I had seen her. I could feel the cold no more but could only hear my heart beating in my throat. After a long time she took notice of me and smiled. I smiled back and the smile stuck to my face. She kept on combing her hair till she had tied it properly. Then she gave me a wave that sent my heart flying away and went in. I was in love and madly so.

She always came to the balcony at around one and combed and dried her hair. My whole day was spent waiting for the afternoon when I would see her on the balcony. I could not sleep or pay attention to anything. My grandmother thought I had taken ill as I spent too much time in the balcony in the shade. She wondered aloud what I found so interesting in the garbage dumped there. I said nothing as I registered nothing. It was only her face that kept me company when I was awake or asleep. I tried my best to impress her. I went to the balcony with a book and leaned on to the railing pretending to read intently but I kept staring at her through the corner of my eyes. Someday she wore yellow, someday pink, but she looked the prettiest in blue. It was always the same routine, she smiled at me, I smiled back, I kept looking at her while she combed her hair, she waved at me, I waved back, and then she went in. We never talked. I tried desperately to talk but my throat dried up whenever she looked at me. I perspired and my brain would stop working. What could I do, I was in love. I spent ten days looking at her standing in the balcony combing her hair. I even caught a cold, but who cares. Those half hours of those ten days were gloriously beautiful.

On the eleventh day she did not come, neither did she come to the balcony on the twelfth. It was almost time for my college to reopen and I had just two days to see her and maybe talk to her or at least ask her name. I stood on the freezing balcony throughout the morning and afternoon hoping to catch a glimpse of her but the balcony remained empty. I thought several times that I would go to the other building and enquire about her but I was scared. Scared of what I do not know but I could not make myself go to that building. I just stood on that balcony playing out in my mind over and over again what I would say to her when I saw her. Was she elder to me? Was she younger? Did she have a boyfriend? Was she married? What was her name? Where did she study? Will she like me? Will she think I am desperate? Will she talk to me? How will her voice sound? Can she sing? How beautiful her eyes are, but does she wear spectacles? How will she look with spectacles? Does she like books? Movies? Where is she from? There were so many questions and so many probable answers. But she never came. I just stood there on that cold balcony waiting for a glimpse of her. She never came and I never went.

I came back to my college hostel. Life resumed but that girl on the balcony remains on my mind even after so many years. Her black hair, the sun on her face, her twinkling eyes, the dimple on her right cheek! What would I not give for another half an hour on that balcony watching her comb her hair. But I never enquired after her. I was afraid – afraid of what I do not know and cannot explain. All I know is that however much I tried I could not bring myself to go to that building. I just loved her from that balcony.

My grandmother passed away that year and my grandfather sold the flat and moved back to Kolkata. I never got a chance to go back to that balcony and watch that angel of a girl comb her hair in the sun. I never knew her name. I just saw her smile and I was in love.