It’s All In A Name {Part 5}

Bhavya and I love to write fiction. We attempted to write stories based on words on every day in April, and it was fun. For a few days of the Ultimate Blog Challenge in July, we are again trying to write fiction, but this time, we are keeping the name of the central character the same. This is Part 5 of a series, and the character name is Rishabh.

Previous Parts: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4


UBC DAY 12 – IT’S ALL IN A NAME {PART 5}

Javed now split his time between office and Faiza.

“If there is a thing as love at first sight, this would be it,” he thought, then smiled remembering the proclamation he had made to her when they first met. For a guy who didn’t think he could marry, he had been floored by her beauty, her attitude and her humility.

He had decided not to confront Peter and Anamika for the moment. He did notice though, with incredulity, that their sex sessions had become more regular now, more open. Sometimes, he’d see Peter slip his hands down her skirt while he looked over some of her notes. He felt sorry for Peter’s wife, angry that the man who seemed so determined to make something of himself had sunk to such a low level.

That afternoon, Faiza had asked him to meet her at their regular hangout. There was a Pizza Hut in their neighborhood, but they had chosen to meet at the Darshini hotel instead. Every other evening, they would meet there, and talk of absolutely everything under the sun while eating bhel puri, or vada and sambar. As he walked into the restaurant, he could see that Faiza wasn’t alone. She was with a handsome guy, about his age, his hair cropped short, dressed in a plain black tee and black jeans. His heart skipped a beat. Had she found someone else?

Walking up to them, he smiled. Both of them returned it.

“Javed, this is Rishabh. Rishabh, Javed.”

Both of them shook hands. Javed could feel a sense of relief flooding through him. He knew Rishabh from what Faiza had talked about him. He too was an aspiring musician like Faiza, the difference being that he had been offered a record deal by a label, and he was working on the lyrics. From the excitement that he felt in Faiza’s voice when she raved about him, he could tell Rishabh had music in his blood, each note right where it had to be.

“Javed, I’ll come right to the point. Faiza showed me a song written by you. The lyrics are just what I’m looking for. I don’t know if you had a particular tune in mind, but I have tuned it to one in my head, and it’ll be a hit, I’m sure. The thing is… I can’t use your lyrics without your consent. It’s not the way I wanna debut, you know. I’m not sure how much I can pay you just yet. I can and will give you the credits for the lyrics. But if you would work with me on more lyrics, I’m sure we could come to some understanding regarding compensation and all that.”

Javed looked from Rishabh to Faiza, and then back. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Someone wanted to tune his “timepass song” into part of an album; and was asking him to work on more songs.

“You can use the song. Just the credits will do. I’m sure music is not going to bring me as much money as my current job. I’ll try to write some songs for you too. God knows, I could use the break from thinking about work.”

Javed looked at Rishabh, who was looking back at him as if he thought he had lost his mind. A smile then cracked upon his face, and he offered a handshake, as if to seal the deal.

“Come by my studio tomorrow with Faiza. You can meet my sponsor, and you’ll get to know exactly what money may come from this venture with me. You are generous to offer me your songs for just credits, but I cannot accept that.”

The almost-formal meeting concluded, Faiza and Javed watched Rishabh walk out of the hotel. Javed then leaned across and gave Faiza a kiss. She could feel herself go warm and she was sure Javed would notice the sudden redness of her cheeks.

“You are sweet, Faiza. You needn’t have done that. But you saw something special in my songs that I myself couldn’t. That’s more meaningful to me than any money Rishabh and his sponsor may offer.”

He walked her home, and promised to meet her again the next day. They would be meeting the sponsor then. And couldn’t wait to see how that turned out.

Faiza met Javed in front of the hotel again, and they took a cab to Rishabh’s small home studio. Javed smiled when he noticed that Faiza had worn the same dress she had been wearing the first time they had met.

When they entered the studio, there were only two people inside. Rishabh was tuning his guitar. And a lady was watching him. She wore a simple green saree, with matching necklace and earrings. When she saw the two of them, she stood up and gave them a warm, welcoming smile.

“I’m Javed Shah, and this is my girlfriend, Faiza Alam,” he said, not noticing Faiza’s smile become wider.

“Pleasure to meet you both, Faiza and Javed. Rishabh has told me about your involvement in his project. This is my debut venture too. By the way, I’m Elizabeth Sparrow,” she replied, shaking hands with Faiza.

She didn’t notice that Javed had gone pale when she told her name.


To be continued…


(12th July 2014)

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Poetry & writing to me are to me, a breath of fresh air in a life that is sometimes covered by the smoke of sorrow or self doubt. They also become the sweets I share to celebrate when life offers me a reason to. But most of all, they are to me, my life. For each word I write is a piece of my heart, a thought that just had to find its way into the world.

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