Samrat and Deepak had been planning all through the short walk to the cafe how they would be at their charming and witty best. They had no idea of just how much their new friend could turn on the charm. Having grown up among officers and gentlemen, Aaditya knew well how to charm the pants off someone. Right from the time he stood up to pull the chairs back so the ladies could sit, to the way he ensured the waitress got the girls' orders before he asked the others. When Supriya heard of Aaditya's background, she leaned over and smiled.
'An Air Force kid. I should have figured. Most guys are not so chivalrous nowadays.'
When Anu asked if the gang would like to meet up later in the evening to go dancing, Supriya enthusiastically agreed, and before Aaditya knew it, plans had been made to go to a disco.
Sam caught the look on Aaditya's face, and was about to say something but Aaditya motioned for him to stop. 'I have a long day tomorrow, so sorry to be a spoilsport, but I need to get home early guys.'
Supriya protested, but as much as Aaditya wanted to spend more time with her, he did not want to tell her why he could not go dancing, and he most certainly did not want the pity and platitudes that he knew would be forthcoming if he did tell her the real reason. Perhaps on any other day, he would have tagged along, but tonight he was in no mood to be reminded of his shortcomings. So he excused himself and said that he could not join them.
When they walked out, Samrat caught up with him. 'Man, you should have come along. It's no big deal.'
Aaditya stopped and looked at him.
'That's easy for you to say.'
Samrat looked at him apologetically. 'Sorry, dude, you know that's not what I meant. Look, screw them. Why don't you me and iPod meet up at my place? I've got the new Medal of Honor on my PS3, and we can go and blow up some Taliban.'
Aaditya smiled. So far only Samrat and Deepak had learnt his full story, and he was beginning to realize that for all the things that had gone wrong over the last few months, he had at least been lucky to get a couple of really good guys as friends.
'That sounds like a plan.'
***
Aaditya returned to his apartment just after ten o clock. On balance it had been a fun evening. They had played on Sam's PS3 for a couple of hours, and then Sam's parents had joined them for dinner. His father had asked the boys what they planned to do after college. Samrat had already decided on an MBA, or rather, Aaditya thought, his father had decided that for him. And so, even though they were only in first year, Sam was going to join tutorials next year to prepare him for the MBA admission tests. Deepak was nowhere as certain of what he wanted to do, but given that every second person in their class was planning to try for an MBA, he replied with a shrug of his shoulder that he guessed he was also going to join Sam for his classes.
Then came Aaditya's turn, and when he answered that he really did not know what he wanted to do, he almost heard an audible gasp from Sam's father. The awkwardness was defused by Sam's mother wheeling in the dessert. As Aaditya listened to Sam's father talk about how important it was to have a plan for life, he thought how different his life may have been if he had been able to follow his plan. And it wasn't just his career. He wanted to meet someone like Supriya without cringing at the pity that he knew was inevitable when she got to know him better.
Back home he sat down on the sofa in his living room and turned on the television. He willed himself to not think too much about the things he didn't have.
When he realized that there was little else on offer other than the usual soaps, he turned it off and got up to change. As he passed the side table outside his bedroom, he paused to look down at the photo frames on it.
For most people, photographs are a way of preserving memories. A way of freezing in time moments that have passed. For Aaditya, they served an additional purpose-they acted as a constant reminder of the life he could have had if only a couple of things had turned out differently.
There were a few photographs of Aaditya and his father. The elder Ghosh was as tall as Aaditya, and Aaditya remembered his earliest memories being that of looking up into his father's smiling face. There were a couple of photos of his father with his mother, but honestly Aaditya remembered nothing of her. The woman who had given birth to him was no better than a stranger, having shared less than three hours with him in this world. She had died soon after giving birth to him.
He showered and changed, but before keeping his clothes in the washing pile, he remembered to take out his good luck charm from his pocket. He ran his hands over the raised edges of the round, embroidered patch of cloth. He felt the outline of the Hawk, soaring, its talons bared, two crisscrossing lightning bolts below it. And then just four words embroidered underneath.
The words mocked him now. There certainly had been no return. Not that evening. Not ever since.
He put his father's old squadron patch on his bedside table and then booted up his computer. The wallpaper on his computer desktop was a collage of photos-all showing his father in uniform. Most of them had Aaditya standing beside him, and most showed them next to fighter planes. Aaditya smiled as he saw one photo of him and his father in the cockpit of a Sukhoi 30. He had sat in the back seat, devouring every detail, imagining what a joy it must be to fly such a beast every day for a living. Then there was a photo of him receiving the Silver medal in the National Cadet Corps Flying Wing. His father stood a few feet away, pride apparent in his eyes.
Growing up among fighter planes and pilots, there had never been any real question of what Aaditya would do when he grew up. It wasn't that his father had ever pushed him to follow in his footsteps, but for as long as he could remember, Aaditya had only one dream-to be a fighter pilot. Growing up in various airbases, surrounded by pilots, the dream of flying a fighter jet had long come to define his life. He had done everything he needed to do to make that dream come true-join the NCC, fly as much as he could-often accumulating more hours in the NCC Flying Wing's gliders and light planes than many active duty pilots did, and keeping himself fit through sports and martial arts. It had seemed like a no-brainer for him to join the National Defence Academy straight out of school, and then make his dream come true by joining the Indian Air Force.
But ultimately none of that had mattered. And here he was, with little left to show for the life he had once dreamed of other than a collection of old photos, and the squadron patch he kept with him at all times. In the drawer of his bedside table was the letter that had changed his life.
For three days after his father's jet had gone missing during an exercise over the Arabian Sea, Aaditya had kept his hopes alive. His father's squadron mates and their families had closed ranks around him, ensuring he was never alone, that the seventeen year old boy had food, that the motherless boy whom they had collectively adopted as their own never felt abandoned in this moment of need. Aaditya had then truly appreciated what his father had told him about the Air Force being one big family, and he was grateful for all the support he had got. But none of that could change the fact that his father was not going to come back home again. After three days of frantic searching in shark-infested waters, and with even the wreckage not recovered in the deep seas, Squadron Leader Mayukh Ghosh had been given up as lost.
In one stroke, Aaditya's life had been turned upside down. His father had perhaps always known, with the instinct of a career fighter pilot, that one day it might come to this. And so, he had prepared meticulously-the apartment was in Aaditya's name, the family inheritances were invested in fixed deposits in Aaditya's name, and a list of contacts had been kept ready, including a good friend in Delhi who had helped Aaditya get into college and into his new life. His father, Aaditya thought, even in death, had proved to be the best father in the world. It was he who had thrown away all the dreams.
He didn't want to think about the past, but perhaps today, there was no way he could avoid it. If his father had still been with him, tomorrow would have been his birthday. When Aaditya was growing up, an Air Force officer's salary had not been enough to get extravagant gifts, but his father had always made sure that Aaditya never felt the absence of a mother. Every birthday was magnified into a memorable event, including that one unforgettable time when, on Aaditya's birthday, his father had allowed him to sit in the back seat of a Sukhoi. Aaditya wished that his father had been with him so that he too could have done something to make the day special
