After many stops and stares from the eyes of the HODs he reached the
registration desk. Mannu could see the scorpion of jealousy escaping the eyes
of the boys around as he seated himself next to the most beautiful Ms. Boss.
Every guy wanted a reason to talk to her, but Mannu's story was written in a
different ink today. Questions flowed from her side as she was mesmerised by the
fact that Mannu was going to perform on his own composition. No one had ever
done this after the installation of the last brick of the ODDY.
Mannu was smiling, smiling a lot, to hide his anxiety and the pain of
loneliness. In the audience of two hundred, the eyes whose look he wanted were
nowhere to be seen. The courier from Pia had occupied a major portion of his
head.Still there was an hour before Mannu's performance. Mannu escaped the
auditorium with meek steps and with the flick of an eye he was at the
reception.
The sofas at the reception were still unoccupied, the vase had the same
dead flowers and the receptionist was the same too.
“Is there any courier for Mannu?” Mannu, too, repeated the same old
question. The pitch of the receptionist’s voice was much higher than yesterday
when he looked at the clock and ordered Mannu to come after 12. Mannu sighed
and moved back, praying to God a thousand times to bring it safe to him.
And God just answered, “Have a little patience...”
Without losing hope, Mannu smiled and made my way towards the concert
room.
Go on Mannu... it’s your time to be the sultan.Nitesh came up with the
right words.
All the eyes were on Mannu as he adjusted the mikes. A nooze went through
him. He could sense some heat growing up behind his ears and on his cheek bone.
Mannu inhaled deeply, several times; exhaled big, once, before his first look
at the spectators. Mannu was unknown of the moment that planted the little
smile on his face. He licked my lips, looked left and right
and finally struck the C-Major chord. Whistles and claps, shouts and
wows overcame the sound of the guitar. Oh! It was just a microphone check.
Mannu closed his eyes and took a deep breath again. The whistles were still
audible. As a sign of comraderie they were coming from the row where the
fresher's were seated. Extra support from the fresher's to their batchmate was
a custom, but it also brought nervousness along.
Help me God... I love you Mummy...I love you Pa.. I love you Pia... I’ll
get your gift soon. After a small prayer he opened his eyes and began.
“Hey guys!” Everyone screamed in unison.
“This song is written by my very close friend Nitesh.”
Everyone started clapping.
“Come on my friends... I need a bigger applause. The show is yet to
begin...” Mannu spoke to the crowd of two hundred. And the audience flowed with
his words, clapped and whistled to a degree that soothed him this time.
“He wrote it for me. I’m sorry brother I’ll never do that again.” spoke
Mannu loud. Mannu could see Nitesh's hiding behind Shub's shoulder.
One. Two. Three. Go! First goes of the D-Major chord and then the
progressions they made the whole night.
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