In the Lab, On a Sunday

“Some things can’t be said, just felt.”

I thought, as I looked through the pane at the bright blue sky, and the sparkling morning. The red brick quarters ahead, the huts on the right, two cows near the bend of the road, the empty road, the austere parking area, two workers soundlessly toiling on the auditorium building, calmness in the lab, in my mind- it all seemed poignant! I knew this scene would stay with me.

There I stood, separated from the life outside by the glass pane, a silent spectator.

Soon, I too would be stepping out, into the sun, into life. Will I make it? Will I be able to face the glare? Ten years later, when I will think of this scene, where will I be? Will I be happy and proud of myself?

My eyes were on the road where I had taken many a walks with friends. I wished I could see that faint, alluring apparition of the woman I will be. If I could know my future…!

I turned, and went to Kaminee. She had finished making the medium. I took out the cotton roll and started making cotton plugs for the flasks. She started looking for the tape.

“Kamsu, yesterday when you, Nitin and Jas came back walking, I had waved at you through that window. You couldn’t see me, of course. But you know what I had thought then…that that moment will never come back. It was going even as I saw you people walking; the scene was changing continuously!”

“Sachi yaar, we just don’t know what lies ahead! God knows what will happen!”

She sighed, as she deftly wrapped paper around the neck of each flask and folded it over the plugs. After putting cello tape, we put the flasks in the autoclave.

“Hmmm…so half an hour…what do we do?”

The cozy sun in a winter morning exerts its own pull, and so it did on us. “Let’s go to the balcony,” she suggested.

A few chairs were lying there. As I got comfortable in one of them, I saw the traffic moving on the main road. The metal roofs of the buses and the cars glistened in the sun. They looked almost surreal, gliding down the road quietly, or was it I who could not hear any sounds, other than the song that came to my lips.

“Aate jaate khoobsoorat aawara raston pe, kabhi kabhi itefaaq se, Kitne anjaan log mil jaate hain. Unme se kuchh log bhul jaate hain, kuchh yaad reh jaate hain.”

“Arrey wah! Bada sahi song hai. Which movie is it from?”

I didn’t know. I just remembered it to be a Rajesh Khanna song, and a few scenes. I tried to tell her the situation of the song, but gave up mid way; the holes were too many!

Once again, I started looking into the road, and singing this song, with full sincerity. “Bas aa gayi apne mood mein,” Kaminee joked. I grinned, and kept singing. Then the song ended.

“H. Your turn.”

“What! Tu bhi na... when did we decide to play Antakshari?”

“Chal, chal ab ga.” I said with full authority, and a big chuckle.

“Hmmm…..Haste haste kat jaayein raste ” she was singing with a big smile. I too joined in, “Khushi mile ya gamm, badalenge na hum. Duniya chaahe badalti rahe.”

“I hope this comes true Japi. May we never change! Touch wood!” Dear, old Kaminee…her countless little prayers, and touch woods. I just smiled at her. My best friend!

“The pressure must have built by now.” She remembered. She always does. The meticulous lab worker.

“You keep sitting. I’ll go and release the steam,” I said and went to the lab. I quickly released the steam, and set the stopwatch on my cell.

“Ok, nineteen minutes to go. So, where were we?” I settled back into my chair.

“Ai to you. I know which one you are going to sing,” she said, blushing, with a wide smile.

“Nai ji. I just changed strategy. I won’t tease you today,” I declared regally. What a favour on her! “Hmmm……Ai kaash ke hum hosh mein ab aane naa paayein. Bas nagme tere pyaar ke gaate hi jaayein.”

The quiet around, the warm sunlight and this lilting melody cast a spell. Kaminee knew the stanzas too. She sang, and I hummed along, swept by its gentle beauty.

“Seriously Kamsu. We are singing such mast songs today!” I grinned. “Ai to you too.”

She was still thinking, when I got an idea. “Ok...your Ai changed to I. Ik pyaar ka nagma ga naa.”

Her favourite song. And my favourite lines, “Kuchh paa kar khona hai, kuchh kho kar paana hai. Jeevan ka matlab to aana aur jaana hai. Do pal ke jeevan se, ik umr churaani hai, zindagi aur kuchh bhi nahin, teri meri kahaani hai.”

“H to you.”

Just then Sourabh joined us. We made small talk, about our projects. Inside, I couldn’t wait to start singing. Which song should I sing?

“Simran and Kanchan too are working in the lab downstairs,” he told us. We casually nodded. We knew we would not go down to meet them. Will they come to us? Probably not. It was better to let the tempers cool first before any attempts at a handshake.

All these years we had never fought. And now, in the last semester, suddenly these arguments had started to surface, over minor issues. This time too the same had happened. Had we come too close? Had we started expecting too much from each other?

We had fought, but were not bitter. I knew that our friendship was as strong as ever. We might not talk, but we still cared for each other. I remembered something, and I suddenly knew what song to sing.

“Hum. Hum. Ik doosre se karte hain pyaar hum.”

“What is this? Starting the song with Hum…!”, she doubled up laughing.

I laughed too, and sang the song. “Ik doosre ke vaaste marna pade to, hain tyaar hum. You know Kamsu the image I had just got? The ‘Yeh dosti’ moment at the old-age home.”

We had organized a Lohri function at the local old-age home, and while playing Antakshari there, one of us had started singing “Yeh dosti hum nahin todenge”. I think it was me. The others had come running, and had joined in the singing. Six heads crooning into one cordless mike, swaying together and smiling. It had become an Aksa moment to cherish.

“Now you sing with M.”

“Mussu mussu haasi deyo malai lai.”

“Wow Kamsu, think of it, how nicely they humor Khushi in the song. How special she would feel, how cared for!” “Maana humse ho gayi, ik chhoti si khata, hans do na tum zaraa, do na humko tum sazaa.” Perhaps we both were thinking the same thing. We would at least say “Hi” to them before we went home.

“Time over. Chal.”

As we were stepping indoors, a song came out. “Asaan hun tur jaana e, din reh gaye thode.”

We went back to the lab.


Japinder Gill