Here, She Finally Entered My Life -
As A Major Character
Lizz -
That One Gem Which I Never Deserved
Better Late Than Never
"So are you joining or not?" I asked her for the final time.
"Yup."
********
Tuesday, 21st November 2023
Practical Submissions Day 1
I was finally done with the math practical book—thanks to Maa, who had written out thirty pages of it for me. In the last half hour before leaving, I was furiously scratching through my chemistry journal at full speed, my handwriting so terrible it would put even a doctor's scrawl to shame. I knew I'd get scolded for turning it in like this, but at that point, there was no other option.
On the other hand, I was keeping a close eye on the bus schedule, calculating which bus we could catch to arrive on time.
Yes, it was a "we" this time. Lizz, who usually travelled with Sushma, was coming to college with me. She had asked the night before about my plan, and when I told her I'd be taking the bus alone, she responded with a simple, commanding, "I am coming too."
Her tone caught me off guard, and I wasn't sure if I should go along with it or stick to my usual solo routine. I'd always travelled alone—it was part of my comfort zone.
But Lizz, because of her, I'd had to scrap my plan of taking the local train from Kharghar to Nerul and instead figure out a direct bus to Nerul, something way outside my usual routine. To top it off, I'd probably miss my usual snack stop at Kharghar station on the way back.
When I mentioned this, Lizz, in her usual self-assured tone, said she'd manage her own arrangements if my comfort zone was getting in the way. She even clarified that she didn't want me to later call it a favour for having travelled with her.
Later, when she asked me to find a reliable bus—explaining that she'd seen her share of "crazy and scary" people on that route—I quickly realized she was referring to the hawkers, the street vendors who often hop onto buses with their bags and baskets, filling the aisle with noise and chatter.
Back then, we weren't even that close. We'd only started talking around the end of September—mostly about board preparations, practical submissions, and, occasionally, my book.
I'd even taught her two derivations from electrostatics on her request—an hour and forty minutes of pure chaos on Zoom. My laptop had lost all internet access, so I taught her through my phone, switching between cameras, scribbling in a rough notebook, then on a whiteboard, disconnecting and reconnecting what felt like a thousand times. It was exhausting—and oddly memorable. I was glad she had understood whatever I explained.
After a few rounds of back-and-forth, small arguments, and reluctant compromises, we finally agreed to travel together. And because of that, my focus on bus timings was sharper than ever.
I didn't manage to finish my chemistry practical book on time, so I figured I'd complete it on the bus. I quickly got up, got ready, and left in a rush, hoping I wouldn't end up being late.
I even skipped breakfast—though Maa had made chili fritters, which she packed hurriedly into a container for me to take along.
At the bus stop, the bus came on time, and as soon as I found a seat, I texted Lizz, telling her to leave from her place and meet me at the stop near Shilp Chowk.
I managed to get a ticket to Nerul and, despite the noise around me, started scribbling in my practical book with my terrible handwriting. I kept one eye on the stop, ready to spot Lizz as she boarded at the Chowk—just for the reassurance that she'd made it. But I couldn't quite see from the back if she managed to get on the bus or not.
As the crowd thinned, I moved to a seat closer to the front and started looking for Lizz. Unable to figure out if she was on the bus, I messaged her, asking if she'd accidentally boarded the wrong one—though the chances of that were slim.
A moment later, she stood up slightly from her seat, turned toward me, and we exchanged a brief smile before she sat back down. That's when I realized that the person whose hair I'd been noticing for a while, assuming it could be Lizz, was actually Lizz.
We got off at the highway and walked a bit as I was booking an auto.
There was an awkward silence between me and Lizz. I couldn't gather the courage to say anything—after all, I barely knew her. The sun was getting harsher, and all I wanted was for the auto to arrive quickly.
I did call the driver, but he cancelled the ride. Checking Google Maps, I realized we were still a 20-minute walk away—not much for me, considering I'd walked longer distances before. But then I glanced at Lizz.
I'd heard people say she rarely walked much and seldom took local trains, which was why she usually shared a cab with Sushma.
"It's showing a 20-minute walk from here," I told her, adding that it might be tough to walk in this heat.
"No, walking won't work," she replied immediately.
We came down the stairs and stood by the bypass road, hoping to find another auto. First few auto rickshaws completely ignored us, and then thankfully, we got one within five minutes.
She paid the fare, and we reached the college in ten minutes. Shamelessly, I opened my still-incomplete practical book and started writing, propping it against the wall to finish the last few formalities. Lizz had no choice but to wait for me.
As we finally entered the physics lab, I spotted Ramesh and Neil were already there. I quickly grabbed a table and started finishing the remaining work in a rush.
Just then, the physics ma'am called me over. I already knew my handwriting was so bad that anyone would be shocked looking at it.
"What is this??" she asked, pointing at one of the horribly written pages. It was the question I had fully expected.
I didn't dare say a word. I just stood there quietly, hoping the moment would pass.
She also pointed out some mistakes in the graph and sent me back along with my journal to fix them.
Meanwhile, the chemistry teacher called me over.
Looking at my work, she said, "Nothing makes sense... Did you write all of this in one night?"
Her second comment made me burst out laughing. I tried to cover my face with my hand, but she noticed and sarcastically remarked that I was laughing at myself. Hearing that, I couldn't hold back and moved further away to laugh behind a corner.
She found a few things incomplete as well. She even refused to sign my book and handed it back to me, asking me to come again the next day.
By the time I was done, Ramesh and Neil had already left. On the other hand, Lizz also had some things to be corrected in her book.
As we exited the college, I asked Lizz if we could go back by train. Surprisingly, she agreed without any hesitation.
I felt relieved hearing that—it was already past noon, and the thought of standing at the highway, waiting for a bus in the November heat, felt unimaginable. To make it worse, buses often came very late in the afternoon.
Without wasting any time, we quickly got an auto. As we headed to the station, I opened my tiffin. The mirch ke pakode had turned quite soft by then. I offered them to Lizz, but she declined, so I ended up finishing the entire box myself.
It was on the ride that we chatted about various things—like who all regularly missed classes at AOS. She mentioned that Ramesh didn't attend much, and even Sanjana J skipped often, mostly because of Naira still being on her trip to Rajasthan.
I listened carefully, wondering that this girl hardly came to any lectures, but knew everything about others' attendance.
"I'm not that close with Sanjana J," I admitted to Lizz.
"You're closer to me than you are to them," she said, as we both looked ahead.
"I avoid Sanjana J anyway," I said, responding casually to her comment.
Hearing this, she immediately turned toward me with a knowing smile—one that was way too obvious. I quickly caught on to what she was thinking and added,
"NO, it's not like that." I quickly negated her smile and justified.
"I mean...bas meko jamta nahi hai usse baat karna...I feel quite hesitant around her...so I mostly stay away..." I said as we got out of the auto. I paid the fare and we started walking toward the station.
Neither of us had got a ticket for ourselves. Even though I wasn't very experienced in travelling alone—it was probably my first time too, if I remembered correctly—I decided to figure it out as we went.
"I always get confused about which platform the train to Panvel comes from," I told Lizz.
"I don't know about it," she replied.
"I'm not sure either," I continued, trying to sound confident while silently praying that we wouldn't end up at the wrong place.
"Nahi bhai. Tere pe bharosa hai mujhe," she said, as we climbed onto the first step of the staircase.
I didn't reply. I just kept my head down, quietly acknowledging the trust she had in me—and wondering, at the same time, how and why people always seemed to trust me so easily.
As we continued the conversation, the topic shifted to my book. At that time, only Part 1 was complete, which Lizz had already read in its entirety.
I mentioned that I had also sent it to Sanjana J once, during a moment when it was just the two of us sitting in a classroom—a situation that had felt incredibly awkward for me. Of course, I didn't mention the awkwardness; I only shared that I had sent it to her.
"She didn't read it, though," I added with a light shrug.
"Wo nahi padhegi bhai... she must have forgotten.
Ab usko wapas bhejna padega,
phir usko yaad aayega,"
Lizz explained, breaking it into parts with short pauses as we made our way down the stairs to the platform and boarded the local train.
I secretly kept an eye on the platform numbers since we had begun walking on the bridge, not wanting to miss the correct platform.
The train arrived in a few minutes, and we safely got in and got seats for ourselves, though it was crowded.
I took out my phone and saw Papa's reply to my status, which was about India's loss in the final of the 2023 World Cup.
'The dream to see my god lift an ODI ICC Trophy remained a dream forever,'
I wrote with a picture of Rohit Sharma.
Next, I opened my Google Drive and resumed writing one of my upcoming chapters.
"So, you're writing your notes?" Lizz asked after a moment, her voice laced with curiosity. I had noticed her watching my screen out of the corner of my right eye.
She never referred to it as a "book," always calling it either a "journal" or "notes."
"Yeah," I replied, not looking up.
She shared that even she wrote often, similar to my writings. As Kharghar station approached, we were standing near the door, chatting. I can't recall exactly how, but the topic shifted to Brahmins. She was a Brahmin, and so was I, and one of us mentioned that Arjun was also a Brahmin.
When we got off the train, the mention of Arjun reminded me of the rumours about him and Lizz being in a relationship. Everyone seemed to believe they were dating, but I was the type who'd only trust it if either of them confirmed it directly.
I had overheard from Rushika—or someone from her group—that they'd broken up, but I didn't dare to bring up such a personal topic with Lizz; we hardly knew each other.
Finally, though, I asked hesitantly, "Tumhara toh breakup ho gaya na?"
"Ha yaar... we broke up," she said, her tone nonchalant. We talked a little about it, but I didn't press further.
We exited the station and were going through a long walk that had various street food vendors.
I asked, "Kuch khayegi?"
"Chal," she said with a smile, and we headed to a nearby sugarcane juice stall.
For some reason, I decided not to get juice for myself and just bought her a glass instead, which made Lizz go 'Abbee!!'.
She, too, found it pretty strange that it was my idea to eat something, but then I got a glass of juice for her and nothing for myself.
Just as she finished her juice, we checked that our bus was about to arrive.
Without wasting a second, we sprinted out of the station and reached the bus stop just in time to catch it. After the crowded local and the hustle of the morning, the nearly empty bus felt like a blessing.
We both sank into our seats, catching our breath, and exchanged a small laugh at the chaos of it all.
"So, who was it jisne mere breakup ke baare mein bola?" she asked as the bus was at the Hiranandani signal, her tone laced with curiosity and a hint of mischief.
"Promise you won't tell anyone," I replied cautiously.
"I hardly talk with AOS people," she assured me.
"It was somebody from your group... I actually don't remember whose voice it was," I said, pausing briefly before adding that it could be Rushika."
She didn't reply—just stayed quiet, looking away for a moment like she was thinking about something. Her silence felt different, and it made me wonder if I had said something wrong.
As the Shiv Mandir passed by, I thought of asking her about a few Assamese slang words. She told me to ask Sushant instead — the one she was texting on the bus — saying she'd already taught him plenty.
I next asked her the date and then got excited, realizing my birthday was less than ten days away. We got down at Shilp Chowk, the same stop where she had boarded the bus that morning.
We bid each other goodbye, and I headed toward the academy for the organic chemistry lecture.
The class had only a handful of students, and Ramesh was one of them. I went over and sat behind him.
He immediately turned to me and asked,
"Lizz ke saath aya?"
I nodded in response.
"Lizz ke saath wapas aya?" he repeated with a curious smile.
"Haaan," I replied again, this time with a small grin.
Later that evening, while talking to Sushant, he too brought up how Lizz and I had gone to college together. It was obvious that Lizz must have told him.
I couldn't help but notice how both these gentlemen—Sushant and Ramesh—seemed a little too eager to travel with her.
"Alright, brother, maybe you can go with her next time—just take my practical journals along," I teased Sushant.
********
Wednesday, 22nd November 2023
Day 2
"There's an empty seat behind me. If you want, you can sit." I texted Lizz.
It was the second time we were going to the college, expecting to be able to submit the practical books without any further corrections to be made.
This time, instead of booking an auto after getting off the bus, we walked for about five minutes before getting into an auto.
We first went to the staff room to ask about Lizz's math practical book, which she had lost the previous day.
Lizz, however, hesitated to speak to the teachers, and I wasn't in the mood to do it on her behalf.
"Please, please, please," she continued, each repetition grating on my nerves. I wasn't about to pamper her, not at any stage.
As the number of pleases kept increasing, I had no choice but to step respectfully into the staff room and ask if any journals were left in the physics lab. The teachers weren't sure, and the lab itself hadn't opened yet.
Luckily, Sara ma'am was free. She instructed us to wait in the hall and promised she'd come in a few minutes to check both the maths and computer science files, as well as the laboratory book.
While submitting, I asked her if any marks would be deducted for bad handwriting.
She replied, "If the examiner opens the pages beyond the first one, then there might be an issue. But usually, they just open the first page, stamp it, and move on."
She also explained the correct order in which the pages should be arranged.
So, I had to remove all the pages from the file, fix the order, and put them back. Because the holes weren't aligned properly, it took me ten to twelve minutes to set everything right.
"Ho gaya?" Lizz asked, pacing around the hall.
"Almost," I replied, still fumbling with the stubborn pages.
A few minutes later, she asked again, "Are you done?"
The papers refused to cooperate. I had to attach them in small batches—three or four at a time—because the holes just wouldn't line up.
"You have to arrange them so all the holes are aligned and they can be filed properly at once," Lizz suggested, watching me struggle.
"Ho gayaaa???" she asked again the next moment, for what felt like the hundredth time.
Frustrated, I said, "If you want to leave, just go ahead!"
But almost immediately, I realized she was waiting for me because she couldn't leave alone. Feeling a bit guilty, I quickly tried to finish up.
When I went to the teacher, I realized that despite carefully organizing the file, I had still missed experiment 7.
Thankfully, the teacher was incredibly kind. She signed my file, handed me the index and certificate pages, and told me to reorganize the pages properly at home.
With the file in hand, I headed back to the hall, where Lizz returned after speaking to the chemistry and physics teachers. She was still looking for her misplaced math journal. I had spoken to the teacher about it the previous night on her request, and we were fairly confident that the journal had been left behind somewhere in the lab.
"It's nowhere in the lab. I will have to buy a new one… it will be available at some stationery stores, right?" she said, her voice calm but noticeably low. She seemed down, and I could feel it, though it wasn't long before her mood shifted once we exited the college.
As we came out of the college and stood on the footpath on the opposite side, she started saying a bunch of things, beginning with some curses for the chemistry teacher, before calling her mom to inform her that she had lost her math journal.
Adding that she might have to rewrite her entire chemistry and possibly even her physics journals because she had written everything in pencil, she then moved a few steps away from me, mentioning how her mom could become a hitler upon hearing her problems.
I felt bad for her. Although I couldn't hear the full conversation from where I stood, her gestures and tone told me she was explaining the situation in detail. I could only guess her mother's reactions to the different problems she faced.
After the call, she resumed venting to me.
"Bhai, wo CS wali mam -"
"Wo toh chumma hai …", I interrupted her.
"- ha ekdum chumma hai…" she said in her usual confident tone, which even I couldn't help but agree with.
She kept muttering for another minute, clearly frustrated, until she paused and asked, "Paani diyo."
After taking a few sips, she finally went quiet.
A moment later, in a much calmer voice, she said,
"Now I'll have to come here once again."
"When would that be?" I asked. My submissions were already done, so I wouldn't be able to accompany her next time.
I suggested that she could go with Sanjana. Her practical and tutorials were still pending, so she was planning to submit a few days later.
"I'll come with you till Belapur bus depot; from there, you and Sanjana can go together," I offered, since Sanjana stayed in Belapur.
"Ab Sanjana se toh sadiyon baad baat hogi meri," Lizz said with a dry laugh, repeating it a couple more times. I couldn't really tell why she said that or what had happened between them.
"I told Sanjana about all the corrections to be done in her journal yesterday. We had spoken then," I added, trying to sound casual, though it was frustrating that she still hadn't seen my message since last night.
"Tu na, call kar liya kar usko if there's anything urgent," she said.
"Nah,
me and calling her?
Nah, I'm fine," I reacted immediately.
"Bro, aisa nahi hota hai. You always think that others…
…look, you're her good friend," she reasoned, after a short gap.
"Arey, nahi bhai. I'm not her good friend.
Nahi," I quickly negated.
"It's not like that, dude," she paused briefly before continuing,
"Achha theek hai… you're her friend."
"Maybe," I replied carelessly, completely unbothered by whatever role I played in Sanjana J's life.
"Ha, toh you… it's alright," she concluded, letting the conversation trail off.
"You always feel that people will think wrong about you or misinterpret your intentions," she continued as we climbed onto the footpath, ducking under a low-hanging tree branch to move ahead.
"Haan haan... woh... 'don't take it the wrong way'wala na?" I said, suddenly recalling an incident.
It was about when I had replied to one of Lizz's stories—a picture of hers—using the same couple of lines I always used to appreciate a good photo. A line I recycled for any nice picture. and then I had told her not to take those lines in the wrong way....
She had taunted me then, knowing full well about my harmless intentions. "Itni phat kyun jaati teri?"
"Haan, toh you don't trust people. You always think they'll misinterpret your intentions," she said.
"Haha, yes... I don't trust people easily. Mai sabko shak ki nazar se dekhta hu," I admitted with a light laugh, owning up to it.
"Yes... and then they take it on their ego too."
"You just overthink a lot, Tanish," she said, as if trying to knock some sense into me.
"She was one of the first to tell me,
Of the flaw that quietly defined me.
My mind could think of miles in seconds,
Overthinking—the flaw, it reckons."
"Wait..." she stopped me mid-step.
"Where the hell are we?" she asked, glancing around.
I looked around too, realizing we had absolutely no idea. Lost in conversation, we wandered way off track. Without wasting another second, we hailed an auto, headed to the station, and managed to catch a train.
Somewhere along the way, she decided she'd just come directly next week.
I told her that I might come too… "ghar pe kuch bahana banana padega", because if all the integrated students from other coaching institutes were going to be there for submissions, then… maybe I'd run into my ex. If her coaching had a tie-up with BS College too, then it was possible…
"One should never hesitate to appreciate beauty," I told Lizz while we stood in the train—unlike the day before when we had gotten a seat.
She smiled and agreed with me.
Once outside Kharghar station, I thought of grabbing a bite to eat, but Lizz quickly interrupted, asking me to check if the bus was coming.
Her words left no room for argument, and I reluctantly skipped eating. It annoyed me a little, but there was no choice. There wasn't any bus coming, so we got into a shared auto.
We got off at Shilp Chowk, where she walked away, looking a bit annoyed herself, heading towards Krishna Book Store. I, on the other hand, made my way to AOS to attend the day's lectures. I don't remember if we bid goodbye to each other while leaving.
_________________________________________________