‘Then how are we going to have this show?’ demanded Shantanu, agape.
He invested a minute to think of something and then—probably when nothing appeared in his mind—he did what he was good at.
He rushed.
Back in Shambhavi’s audio room, he cautiously pushed open the door and poked his head in.
Just like any given day, Shantanu’s fear was ignored by her. Quickly muting her microphone while there was a song running in the background, she blasted at him, ‘You always come with panic attacks. Now you would say that we would need to carry on the show without Ravin. Isn’t it?’
‘Aaa … yes.’ The words came haltingly out of his mouth, followed by ‘But …’
And Shantanu’s so-called ‘but’ remained incomplete when Shambhavi ignored Shantanu’s reasoning and, instead, asked him to send the three of them in.
‘I will handle it. Let the producer know that Ravin is not in and we are going without him.’
That’s all she had to say. Apparently, for Shambhavi, this was yet another show—part of her daily job—which she had to complete on time before leaving for the day. That’s it.
Shantanu realized there was no point in explaining things to Madam Hitler and therefore he sombrely walked back.
‘Sir, she is in the habit of getting carried away and not listening to me,’ Shantanu stated, expecting them to understand him.
Happy smiled and stood up to comfort Shantanu. ‘Relax! We will handle this inside. Don’t worry.’
As the three of them looked inside the audio room from the giant glass window Shambhavi waved for them to enter.
They obeyed, and entered.
Three
‘All right, guys. Pull your socks up. We are going live in thirty seconds.’
Shambhavi broadcasted just after she dictated a few dos and don’ts to the three of them and handed them a few questions she would be asking them during the show. Interestingly, she didn’t check in case her guests had any further queries. The guests surely anticipated the chance to ask questions and get clarifications.
‘Oh teri!’ Manpreet’s jaw almost hit the ground. A sliver of ice made its way into his adrenaline, freezing the blood in his veins. Amardeep raised his eyebrows, and thought to himself: Dude! What the hell are you up to? Happy simply smiled. Manpreet raised his little finger, signalling that, all of a sudden, he needed to pee. Amardeep blinked his eyes in anger. Manpreet’s little finger settled down.
‘3…2…1… and go. Hello-o-o-o-o Chandigarh! How a-a-are you doin-n-ng? I wish you all are in pink and rocking as usual. And as usual you are listening to your own RJ Shambhavi on our prime-time show Raat Baaki, Baat Baaki. Hmmm …To shuru karte hain hamaara ye pyaara sa programme with my special wish to each one of you on this day. A ver-r-r-ry happy-y-y-y Valenti-i-i-ine’s Day-y-y-y to you. Hahaha … Well, since morning I’ve been feeling so nice. Everything around me is just coloured in red. There is love in the air: outside in the park, on the roads, in the cafeterias and here in my room as well. Har jagah bas pyaar hi pyaar chhaaya hua hai. I am so excited celebrating this day. I wish plenty of love stories come true this Valentine’s season and I wish today ends on a very special note for each one of you. And I am here to make this day far more special for you because Superhits 93.5 RED FM now brings you the real-life characters of the love story which has touched thousands of hearts by now. Yes, I am talking about the bestselling novel and true love tale I Too Had a Love Story. And soon you are going to talk to the actual people who were part of Ravin’s story. So don’t go away and enjoy the spirit of love when we return. Stay tuned.’
She zip-zap-zoomed her lines with practised ease, like a news reader reading from a teleprompter, but whatever she said was completely improvised. She was perfect, energetic and mind-blowing. That’s what Manpreet, Amardeep and Happy felt.
As she ended those lines, she scrolled some keys up, playing a song, after which she muted the microphone she had been using.
The first song to be played on the show was the romantic English number ‘Paint My Love’.
Manpreet almost stole a moment to regain his lost breath. As he moved closer to Shambhavi, he requested, ‘Instead of thirty seconds can you please let us know a minute in advance? Last one was too fast.’
Shambhavi beamed her smile with her comforting message, ‘Sure.’
Happy was trying to cope with the sudden truth of the moment that all of Chandigarh would now be listening to them and that all of a sudden they would become so vulnerable.
Soon all of them were seated around the big circular table. Happy sat on the right of Shambhavi and Amardeep towards her left. Manpreet occupied the seat opposite her. The entire audio system, which Shambhavi had been operating, was in front of her. There was a monitor on which she selected the songs and the ads she was going to play. There were microphones which were centrally placed in a way that everyone on the table could speak into them comfortably. While the three friends were cautious, Shambhavi was in her carefree and ultra-confident mood. One more hour to go and the day’s job would be over and she would leave for home. She wasn’t very bothered about whether Ravin would turn up or not.
On the last few lines of the song, Shambhavi slew the volume and moved a few keys on the music console.
When they went on air again, Shambhavi introduced Happy, Manpreet and Amardeep to her listeners, saying that she would start the show with the real-life characters of the book and end it with the author.
Outside the radio station, Shambhavi’s voice was reaching almost every listener. This 9 o’clock show had been a big hit in the city, especially among the youngsters. But that night this show turned more special, for it was dedicated to this city’s bestselling author whose debut novel people had read multiple times. For over a week there had been advertisements on this radio station for this show.
As forecasted, Superhits 93.5 RED FM saw the TRP scale surging. Every other minute more and more radios were tuning in to this station’s frequency: the radios in those vehicles stuck in the heavy fog, moving inch by inch on the roads of Chandigarh; the radios in each and every hostel room of Chandigarh’s Punjab University; the radios in hundreds of cellphones across the city.
As soon as the song ended, Shambavi sprang into action. This time she gave Manpreet a good sixty seconds to prepare himself.
‘And before we talk to them, let me just recap Ravin’s story as he narrated it in his first book. The four friends—Happy, Manpreet (well known as MP among his friends), Amardeep (well known as Raamji) and Ravin—get together in Kolkata to mark their first reunion after college. In one of their conversations they decide to take up the next big subject of marriage seriously. Taking a cue from their discussion, later, Ravin creates his profile on a matrimonial website, on which he finds Khushi. Ravin lives in Bhubaneswar and Khushi in Faridabad. Gradually, both Ravin and Khushi get to know each other through their interaction over the phone and in online chatrooms. Soon, they fall in love. In their courtship of eight months Ravin happens to see Khushi on just two occasions in person; yet their mutual attraction was so strong that both of them expressed, to their respective parents, their desire to marry each other. Both sets of parents met each other and finalized their engagement and marriage. On 14 Feb. 2007, that is, exactly five years back, Ravin and Khushi were to exchange their rings. But fate had planned its own twist. Five days prior to their engagement day, Khushi’s office cab met with an accident. Unfortunately, that accident proved fatal for Ravin’s Khushi. Three months later, to cope with his big loss, Ravin decided to write a tribute to his Khushi. And this is how he penned down his debut novel I Too Had a Love Story.’
She paused for a while and then continued, ‘It is such a touching tale but then we are proud of Ravin that he was able to share his story and tonight we are going to celebrate the spirit of his courage. So let’s cheer up and go straight to Ravin’s friends who are in our studio today.’
‘So, Happy, how do you feel about being a part of
this book? And tell us more about your friendship with Ravin. Did it happen just the way it is mentioned in the book?’
Oh, so Shambhavi has read the book, Raamji thought to himself.
‘Before I answer that, here is my bi-i-i-g-g-g hello-o-o-o-o to Chandigarh! Hope you all are enjoying the Valentine’s evening. Hmm … To answer your question, Shambhavi, it feels great to be a part of the book and, more importantly, to have him as a friend is the greatest of all feelings and I am sure MP and Amardeep will also agree to this.’ Happy gazed at his friends sitting adjacent to him.
‘Okay, let me ask Manpreet now. Tell me, Manpreet, when did you guys get to know that you were going to be a part of this book? And how did you react when you got to know that this story begins with you guys?’
Manpreet took a breath or two before he spoke. He almost began his answer with a dragging ‘Hmmm …’ But then he paused, thinking deeply, after which he got going with his reply. ‘Well, interestingly, I got to know about it once the book was in the market,’ he said, and smiled. His smile initiated Shambhavi’s smile.
‘You mean Ravin didn’t tell you while he was writing?’
‘No, he didn’t. And had he done that I would have got my character portrayed in a better way.’ Manpreet chuckled, and then added, ‘Actually, I was in the US while Ravin wrote this book and got it published.’
‘How about you, Amardeep?’ Shambhavi turned her head to probe Raamji.
Amardeep continued smiling and clarified the picture, saying, ‘Only Happy knew about it. For the rest of us it was a sweet surprise.’ Giving a naughty look to Manpreet, he added playfully, ‘And I believe Ravin has already projected MP’s character in a much better way.’
Everyone laughed.
‘All right, folks. We have just begun, and we will continue to chat more with our guests on their lives, Ravin’s life and the novel I Too Had a Love Story. And yes, if you want to ask them your questions, call us at 9892792792. Our lines have just opened. So, Chandigarh, keep alive the spirit of Valentine’s Day as we catch the first caller among you, right after this romantic song!’
Shambhavi pushed the scroller on the console, playing a new song, and muted the microphone.
‘It’s going well, guys,’ she announced, congratulating them with a thumbs-up sign. They smiled back with hoots of ‘Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!’
Shambhavi then pulled out a cigarette case from the drawer underneath the desk and offered it to the others; they declined politely.
‘Excuse me, then,’ she said as she made her way out of the room for a quick smoke. ‘I’ll be back in two minutes before the song gets over. But guys, please ask Ravin to turn up in the next fifteen minutes. The show is turning out to be bigger than what we expected.’
Amardeep wanted to say something, but Happy placed a hand on his thigh and stopped him.
In Shambhavi’s absence Manpreet was the first to admire her.
‘She is hot!’
Happy looked at Manpreet before turning to catch Amardeep’s eye. Smiling indulgently, both gave Manpreet a look that seemed to say ‘dude, you won’t change’.
‘Asshole,’ Happy murmured.
Manpreet cautiously verified that the mute button had actually been turned on.
‘What? Isn’t she?’ he said, trying to lighten the moment.
In a few moments Shambhavi got back in the room. She was talking on her cellphone. She was still in a euphoric mood about that evening’s show being a hit. ‘You guys tried to reach Ravin, na?’ she asked, putting a hand over the mouthpiece of her phone before promptly resuming her conversation without bothering to wait for the answer.
No one answered but Happy gave a wry smile to his buddies, knowing that Shambhavi wasn’t looking at them.
The song was about to end when Shambhavi lined up some ads to be played in tandem.
‘Hey! There is our first caller,’ Shambhavi announced in excitement seeing the green light blinking on the bottom right of her monitor screen.
She waited for an insurance ad to end and then proceeded to receive the call. Quickly turning off the mute button, she connected the radio station to Chandigarh. She made every listener hear that one ring before she pushed the receive button.
‘Hello,’ she wished the caller.
No response came from the other side.
‘Hello-o-o-o. Who is this?’ she asked.
This time a sweet voice replied, ‘Hi Shambhavi. I am Ritika.’
‘Hi Ritika, how are you doing tonight?’ Shambhavi was very sweet to her, very unlike the way she was to Shantanu.
‘I am doing very good, Shambhavi. I am so excited that my call got connected. I had been trying every second, since the time you said your lines are opening.’ She giggled excitedly, indicating how unbelievable this experience was for her.
‘So, Ritika, tell us what you do?’
‘Shambhavi, I am pursuing BSc from Punjab University.’
‘That’s nice. So are you celebrating Valentine’s Day today?’
‘Yes, I am,’ came the shy reply. One could sense her shy smile too.
‘My boyfriend and I have been together all evening, and now we’re going to have dinner together.’
‘That’s so nice to hear, Ritika. Okay, so quickly ask your question. Before that, tell me who you want to ask this question to.’
‘Shambhavi, I would have loved to ask this question to Ravin himself but even though he is not present at this moment, I can’t help myself from asking this question to Ravin’s friends … I have read I Too Had a Love Story scores of times and it has become my favourite book. I have even gifted it to so many people. But every time I complete reading the book there is a sudden curiosity that takes hold of me. There is this question which hovers in my mind—but then what happened to Ravin?… I mean, did he ever come out of the tragedy? Where is he now, what is he doing, etc.? I want to know from Happy, Manpreet and Amardeep how their friend Ravin is doing now. I hope he is doing well.’
As soon as she completed her question the line was deliberately disconnected as per usual practice.
As the guest’s question ended, Shambhavi looked up at the three friends and raised her eyebrows expectantly, with a smile on her lips.
A strange emptiness followed thereafter. Shambhavi raised her hand and moved her lips to mutely pronounce ‘speak up’. She fixed her gaze at Happy, who signalled Amardeep to do the needful.
Amardeep came closer to the microphone.
‘Hi Ritika. Thanks for your kind words on I Too Had a Love Story.’ Amardeep’s voice became softer as he considered what he had to say next. He continued, ‘And I am sorry that I am going to give you some sad news as the answer to your question … Ravin … um … er … ah …’ Amardeep’s voice faltered.
Manpreet held Amardeep’s hand supportively.
Happy lowered his eyes to the ground, facing no one. Shambhavi stared, agape. All of a sudden she had her full attention on the three friends present in her radio station and talking to Chandigarh. Amardeep’s statement triggered an alarm in her mind about where her show was heading.
Taking a deep breath, Amardeep went ahead.
‘It’s sad news. Our Ravin … is not what he once used to be. He is in an unstable state of mind and not doing well. He is suffering from MDD—Major Depressive Disorder. He has been admitted into a rehabilitation centre.’
‘RAVIN!! … RAVIN!!!!! … WHY DID YOU COME OUT? WHY DO YOU DO THIS EVERY TIME? … WARD BOY!!!!!! … WARD BOY!!!!!! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?’
The voice shatters the silence. The nurse continues to shout as she runs towards ward no. 4.
‘Come, get up, child … Ravin, get up, my boy …’
She helps him get up and takes him to his bed. All this time he is silent and calm.
He opens his fist and gazes one more time at those few spoiled feathers that he has been holding in his hands for so long.
He slips them under his cushion, squeezes his hands in between his legs and sleeps.
Four
Outside the radio station, Amardeep’s last statement raced across the airwaves. It was breaking news! The listeners of the show who had read Ravin’s love story were in a state of shock. They chatted among themselves to reconfirm if what they heard was correct and if others were aware of this.
The traffic on the fog-smothered roads of Chandigarh almost halted. The news which emerged from Superhits 93.5 RED FM now travelled through various mobile phones as well. The flurry of phone calls and messages flying from phone to phone had surged to a level never witnessed in the past. More people tuned in, wondering what happened to Ravin. The TRP ratings for the show skyrocketed, breaking every record that any radio station would have set in Chandigarh.
There was pin-drop silence in the cars, homes and surroundings of the radio listeners. There were shocked listeners, heartbroken readers and a mass of curious people desperately waiting to listen to Amardeep’s voice again.
Back in the radio room, the scene was complicated. The self-confident Shambhavi was now stunned, unable to believe what she had just heard. She simply muted the speaker and held her hand on her forehead in wonder, looking at her guests. She was angry and, at the same time, clueless.
It was unusual for any radio channel to have complete silence when the RJ and guests were present in the station. No talks, no songs, no ads—just a chaotic emptiness. The listeners were already anxious to know what had actually happened.
‘Shantanu was trying to tell you this when you ignored him,’ said Happy politely to Shambhavi.
Shambhavi quickly regained her feet on the ground and yelled, ‘But you guys could have still revealed this to me! My entire script for this show has turned obsolete.’
Visibly angry, she lashed out at everyone in the room.
‘Don’t worry, we have the script with us,’ said Manpreet placatingly.
‘What do you mean you have the script?’ she retorted.
‘Allow us to speak to the listeners and you will find out,’ said Happy.