CHAPTER 1

There she stood… painting her reflection in the mirror… dressed in a transparent apparel of her own self… naked of all pretensions… devoid of the mask she had donned up till now… removing whatever traces of artificiality she could find on her face…. No longer was she the Savitri of the play Aadhe Adhure! She was herself… her true identity… Ragini Kashyap.  

She looked around and smiled. Everyone around her was engrossed in doing the same. What else can one expect in a green room? Always full of activity, hustle and bustle, it forms the threshold between the real and the make-believe world.  

But for Ragini, it was much more than just a dressing room! This was the place where she introspected, analysed and decided. Was it a coincidence or a pre-written plan of the Divine…? For it was here, where she was posed with the most crucial choices of her life. Shuttling between false and real selves… all actors do that. But she, at this place, had left behind the endings and embraced the new beginnings in her life.  

Fleeting images of the days bygone were replaying in her mind.  

“Wasn’t it at a similar place where Makrand had proposed to me?”

Makrand… her college senior… and her first love…. There was something magnetic about him which always drew her closer to him. He was very different from others. At the age when boys boast of a huge number of girlfriends they claim to have, he was mostly busy in his books, not to forget his big black diary, in which he was always found scribbling something. Ragini, on the other hand, was this vivacious and straightforward girl, whom most of the college boys drooled over. She was the life of her batch.  

People often asked them, “What brings you together? The two of you have hardly anything in common!”  

But no! They did have something in common. The college theatre! Ragini was the life of the theatre group. Though inexperienced, she showed the promise of a polished actress. She enlivened whatever characters she played… especially when they were written by him! Makrand was also a part of the group. He scripted plays himself and also rewrote the ones written by the other playwrights. Ragini always appreciated his talent and found it comfortable to step into the characters crafted by him. They say ‘opposites attract’. Before they even knew, they were already in love.  

It was after the performance of one of those many plays, when Makrand silently stepped into the green room.  

Ragini was a little taken aback, caught unaware with her real face hardly visible through the sheets of makeup.  

Makrand crept closer to her, and without uttering a single word, slipped a scrapbook in her hand. She opened it. It was full of her pictures… she getting ready for a performance… she laughing among the friends… she all dressed in woollens sipping hot coffee on a cold winter morning…. At the end of all, a note read, “I can see you thus all my life. Will you marry me?”  

Ragini was more shocked than pleased.  

“What’s this, Makrand?” she questioned, “I’m yet to complete my post graduation. I’m yet to start my career. How can I marry you?”

“Come on, Ragini. Your exams are over. The results will be out any of these days. You’re almost through with your post graduation.”  

“So?”  

“Okay, let me tell you,” said Makrand, “I’ve been offered a job in the States. It’s a big literary agency. I’ll have to leave for States in the next two months’ time.”  

He paused and continued, “I can’t go without you. Marry me.”  

“Oh! So you want me to marry you, be a good wife, and rear your children. Me… and my career don’t matter to you. Right?” she asked.  

“It’s not that I don’t care for your career, Ragini. Theatre in India is a dying art, but in States, there’s a lot of scope in this area. Trust me, your career too will blossom there. What will you do here? There’s just no future in India.”  

Ragini was a little offended. “That’s exactly the reason why I want to stay here. I want to revive the art of theatre in India. I want to change the perspective of people like you, who are born in India, study here, and then go abroad to lick foreigners’ shoes.” She suddenly realised what she had said, the realisation came somewhat late though.  

Thankfully, Makrand was the more composed of the two. Recognising that their discussion was going in a wrong direction, he tried to placate his agitated beloved with a warm smile and a few affectionate words.  

But before he could say anything, Ragini interrupted, “And by the way, which era are you living in? I’m not a piece of furniture whom you can take with yourself along with all the luggage. In any case, I’m in no mood to marry right now.”  

It was now Makrand’s turn to be offended. “What do you mean ‘no mood to marry right now’? Some day, we’ll be marrying, Ragini. So why not now?” he questioned.  

Ragini was shocked again.  

“What the heck! When did I ever say I’m gonna marry you?”  

These words fell like drops of melted glass into his Makrand’s ears. After being together for more than three years, she said she did not want to marry him. In a split second, all those silken moments that he had spent with her came alive in front of his eyes.   

He had always dreamt of marrying her, coming home into her arms, being a loving father to their children, and plucking her grey hair on a sunny afternoon after forty years. He had always thought of spending his whole lifetime with her, and thought she would too agree. But, had he ever cared to ask her what she wanted? Had he not taken her for granted?  

Somehow, he collected himself. No, he could not lose her so easily.  

“Don’t you love me, Ragini? Then, why won’t you marry me?” he found himself choked.  

His voice calmed down Ragini. She realised his vulnerability. She cupped his face in her delicate palms and said, “Of course I love you, Makrand. That’s why we have been together for three long years. But tell me yourself, does marriage have to be an outcome of love? Can’t we let this wonderful feeling called ‘love’ free and experience its velvety touch for ever without the iron fetters of marriage? Does love really need a certificate?”  

“Oh! Now I understood. That’s what your problem is. Commitment phobia,” he quipped.  

“It’s not commitment phobia. It’s just that I don’t understand why people want love to be translated into marriage always. I don’t believe in the institution of marriage. If there’s love, two individuals can stay together without marriage too. Marriage, I feel, does nothing but chain you. You are expected to stay together, even if there’s no love between you. What for? Just for the sake of a piece of paper called ‘Marriage Certificate’.”  

Makrand was shattered. This was not the first time he had discussed marriage with her. She had always laughed off the matter, and he had thought maybe she was not ready. The real reason he had known today.  

“So, you too believe in a relationship of convenience?”  

“Makrand, this discussion can go on and on. It’s better we stop it right here. The fact is that I can’t pack my bags, get married, and leave for an unknown country, just to ‘be’ with my husband. I want to stay here, and pursue my dream to make it big in the field of theatre.”  

She took a brief pause and added, “What you call a relationship of convenience is just a way to test your relationship for me. Love often starts diminishing after marriage because you start taking each other for granted. So even if we decide to take the plunge, it shouldn’t be before it has been tried and tested. We don’t even buy a car before a test drive, then how can we take such a serious decision of life without being hundred per cent sure of it?”

“In no mood to go back home, Savitri?” Shekhar, the director of the play, brought her back to present… the green room… in front of the mirror.  

We don’t even buy a car before a test drive…. She recollected her own words. Why were they gnawing her now? She believed in the ‘test drive’. Why didn’t she realise that unlike a car a human being does feel hurt when dumped?  

She introspected for some time. What went wrong between her and Shantanu?

 

…to be continued