The Grey Shirt I’ll Never Buy Again

 

The Grey Shirt I’ll Never Buy Again

- Ritigya Shree

 

‘Purple …Black…Green…No, not Neon at all…Grey… Blue, indeed! Should I go ahead with Blue?’ I experience this, though not frequently. Usually, I know exactly what I want. If I like something at first glance, that's it; if I need more time, I'm just wanting to be sure. As I was shopping for someone else, a few random thoughts sprang to me, such as visualzing that person wearing the shirt I want to buy, in almost every colour. I believe we all follow that, right? I mean, particularly when we aren’t confident enough whether the person will prefer the choice or not.

“Blue looks perfect but…umm…you sure… a guy... would appreciate it?” While handling a couple of the items I had purchased, I queried the billing person hesitatingly, constantly looking into his eyes with my squeezed eyebrows. 

It was my first solo trip ever, that too to Varanasi, while I got a weekend off from my college in Prayagraj. Varanasi is precisely a two and a half hours journey from my place, and when you have fabulous company, it’s even less. It was my senior from the same college, who was travelling with me to Varanasi, her home. Indisputably, I had the best tuning with her. I arrived at my destination, where my first solo trip ever commenced. I visited several locations, including temples, museums, and palaces. This was deliberately getting on to be one of my favourite moments. Of course! I was effectively evading some thoughts and learning to take pleasure in my company. This made me realize how fortunate those who have me as an ally are. Okay! Enough with the jokes.

I had to reach the bus depot early to get the 9:15 PM final bus to Prayagraj. I was cognizant that I needed to shop for myself, and the malls in Varanasi were quite welcoming. I arrived around 7:30 PM and initiated my own pace of shopping. The mall was far better than I had anticipated; in fact, it was excellent. I took off right to Zudio without squandering much time. I swapped some of the apparel I had intended to buy, a bottle of perfume, and a few other stuff. The moment I turned back to go straight for the billing, I saw the mannequin in a fine sky blue shirt, in premium clothing. It wasn’t entirely the conventional sky blue shirt, but with metallic grey buttons that made it more, both graceful and vogue. I instantly assumed of...of him wearing that. ‘Gosh! He looks amazing!’ I heard myself say. 

‘Hey, why don't you gift him that?’ Out of nowhere this impression arrived, which honestly nearly made me smile. ‘Wait.Wait.Wait. The mess bill must also be paid, and you have dined more than enough from zomato this month, so browse your bank balance, sweetheart!’ The voice in my head, enumerating how much money I had spent particularly in this month, argued, ‘You have already used up the money long before your father had provided, and merely because your brother doesn't question you when you demand a good amount of money, doesn't mean you'll take advantage of it.’

‘Just a shirt is added to the list.' I managed to convince myself, 'I'll make up for it next month, but there's a risk I won't have another opportunity to go shopping soon.’ and displayed a decent reason to purchase it. I decided to buy one, entered the shirt area, began comparing the colours, and ultimately found the billing guy.

“Blue looks perfect…but umm…why don’t you ask the guy?” The billing man responded with a perceptive glance.

“Oh sure, hey I want to gift you a shirt tell me which colour, great! Problem solved.” I pretended to grin in order to inform him how terrible his idea was.

"Ask the colour, Ma'am. Just mention the colour." He stated as he began to read the barcodes on the additional things I had bought.

‘Just ask the colour, what’s wrong?’ I don't know why but a question surrounded me all of a sudden as it was 8:45 PM already.

I felt anxious. Things between us weren't the same as they once were. I presume that all of my efforts were progressively going in vain as well. Imagine, if he didn't acknowledge. What if he plainly rejects the gift? What if he would never appreciate my gesture, just as the gift I gave him on his birthday? Why are the things so unusual for me just so ordinary for him? I had no idea what I was aspiring to convey; all I knew was, that I wanted to give him a really elegant present that would make him feel a bit special and that, because of me.

“Dude, you promised me you’ll gift me a black shirt, I almost had a fight with my girlfriend for this, you know.” I thought back to the conversation I had with my friend Shiva a week before. It was class 12th and during a game, I told him to come the next day in black and he claimed he doesn’t have any black shirt, to which I countered I would buy him one. Four long years later, he reminded me of this.

"Shiva, you really care about that shirt. Don't you?” Being naïve, I asked as he remembered but I had forgotten. What was going on behind it intrigued me.

"A shirt would make the ideal gift, especially for me. You notice it every time in your wardrobe, you plan to wear something and your cloth appears in front of your eyes when you take a glance for the other complementary attire to wear with it and it goes with most of the things. All of this reminds you of the person who gave that to you and, a smile. The shirt is just perfect.” He remarked with a subtle smile and questioned me furthermore when I’ll gift him the same.

The shirt is just perfect.

 

My hesitation had vanished. ‘I’ll buy a shirt for him. No matter what.’ I concluded. I picked up my phone and opened our chat.

Just typed,

‘Colour’

‘?’ He responded right away.

The question mark made two things very apparent. Either he got confused if I sent the text to the wrong person or he was sure I had something to add with this.

‘Colour batao jaldi’ (Just tell me the colour fast) I texted instantly since this was the last item to be billed.

‘Grey’ He quickly retorted.

 

I requested the billing guy to keep the grey shirt instead of the blue.

“Alright, Ma’am. Grey it is. Well, it will amount to you nearly double.” He stated while directing a helper to take out the grey shirt from the box for billing.

“Oh! No discount?” I tried my luck. I was under the impression that it was the same price as my Gpay password.

“Not any festival season, Ma’am.” He said and gestured if he would scan the barcode of the shirt.

I looked at the shirt. To be very honest, all I could think of at that moment was him. I simply nodded.

9 PM had already passed. I carried the ticket with me while I waited for the bus. Meanwhile, I had something to eat. I also intended to buy a few other presents for some of my friends, but the time and my pocket, both denied. 'Don't worry baby, next time.' I reassured myself. I couldn't wait to give him this. I then began to plan how I would present this to him.

 

What may the letter-writing alternative be? This is the best. But I did the exact thing on his birthday, something unique, something creative. Should I create a handmade card or a poem for him? The poem I did, but never narrated to him, one day I will, but something else this time. Think fast Meera, think as fast as you can. The bus had arrived. I sat on the bus and gave it a thought again. Chocolate? Wow… No.

I love giving gifts to people and just never get confused. That was the first time, I pushed myself to my very maximum to make everything go perfectly. Alright, a handcrafted flower with his initials engraved on each petal. Naah. 'Why does nothing positive come to mind?’ I wondered.

‘Meera, Dear, think a little, think a little.’ I strived to boost it a little.

Fine, there you go! I grabbed a piece of paper from my backpack and scribbled-

 

“Dear Daksh

I believe I'm not there with you when you're actually wearing it. However, for just you to know, you’re a fabulous person. Look at yourself in the mirror, the grey looks best on you and you look best…always. I want God to keep you strong and encourage you to reach new heights. Whichever occasion you’re wearing this on, I pray you reap millions of the best of it. And remember, you’ll always be there in my prayers.

Be happy.

With sincere love

Meera”

 

I folded the paper in three and made an envelope with the other one, on which I wrote.

 

To Dear Daksh

Only open this when you’ll wear this Grey Shirt. And if possible, wear it on one of your biggest days.

Meera

 

I kept the envelope in the pocket of the shirt and became enthusiastic all again to gift him this. It was just 15 minutes to Prayagraj. 'I’ll give him this tomorrow evening, for sure.'

‘Are you certain?’ Abruptly, my thoughts began to murmur.

‘Why would I be uncertain about this?’ I suspected. 'I had purchased this intending to give it to him anyway. What's... going on right now?’ I questioned again.

 

"Remember this hoodie? This was a gift from one of my friends Yati's admirer to her." I recalled him informing me about the red hoodie he once wore. It was around 11 the night when Daksh entered my room while I was skimming through a book. Before he prompted me to gaze, I had honestly overlooked the hoodie. Yati was one of Daksh's close friends. This was a present from a guy who once liked her. Yati never wore this, but he and his friends did it in order to make fun of that person and to demonstrate to him that giving someone a hoodie might also be considered a sin. I didn't relish the notion of disrespecting someone's emotions in this way even then. If Yati didn't want to wear it, she should really just have kept it in a closet corner or somewhere else. Nonetheless, I didn't speak to Daksh about this. Already, we barely ever agreed on anything. It was not a smart idea to draw attention to this either. I just decided not to participate in it. By choosing to ignore it, I effectively closed this conversation.

 

‘You see, the Grey shirt may have the same fate as the Hoodie.’ My thoughts started to whisper once again, and my heart was suddenly scared.

Who was I to him? Perhaps nobody. I began to question myself. Have I ever even been special to him? Even for a second? Was everything he made me feel, even real? Why did I even plan to gift him this? I was at a loss of words. The things that are extremely special to me are nothing to him. Moreover, when things are pertaining to me, he considers aspects to be even less than zero. 

All of a sudden, there was a serene quietness. I could not hear even a single voice around me. I looked down at the shirt. Grey it is, Perfect! I deliberately took a deep breath and bent my head towards the window. I looked out, unhurriedly. Nothing but dark. I closed my eyes as I felt the wind blowing over my hair. I encountered a sudden sense of being in another universe. Absolute quiet, wind, and a sense of emancipation. Swiftly, my thoughts were calm and peaceful. The only thing I could sense was a gentle wind brushing my face and running through my hair. There, I dwelled for a juncture. It felt as if it was a long-long extent. No suspicion existed anymore. No desire to discover anyone's answers. There existed only me, stillness, twilight, and the breeze. I guess, I was released.

My connection to the marvellous part of the world was abruptly wrecked by a loud voice "Prayagraj...Prayagraj."

It seemed as if I had woken up from a dream. I instantly jumped up, grabbed my handbag, and moved toward the bus entrance. I exited the bus with all I had with me.

Except, for the Grey Shirt.

 - Ritigya Shree