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"Seema's Sky" is a translation of Prakash Trivedi's Gujrati novel "Seemanu Aakash". It has been specially translated by Ashok Dholabhai for shaaditimes. It is a love story and more.
As the elevator started rising so also did Nikhil's enthusiasm and confidence. After the depressing talk that morning, the New York Experience show had infused fresh energy into him. On his way to the 100th floor of the World Trade Center he could visualise Seema's existence only based on Mami's hints. Now, after 28 hours he was going for a meeting with Seema which could be the last or be the first in their future life together. For a middle class Gujarati boy, brought up in India it was possible to think thus, perhaps it was appropriate too. But at the same time he know that a sharp, smart New York girl like Seema would not decide in a hurry. She will think several times before saying "no" and especially before saying "yes" she will want to meet him several times. She will like to go with him for dates, want to discuss books with him, visit discos and night clubs with him, see films of Bergman, Fellini and Ray and plays on Broadways. She might drag him to off Broadways for "Oh Calcutta!" or "Let my people come." In the meantime she would try to gauge his knowledge, analyse his nature, measure his physical beauty and the size of his heart and his purse as well.
These were not times when the boy was judged by the job he had and the girl by her home-making qualities.
The elevator suddenly stopped on the 27th floor bringing Nikhil out of his reverie. His day-dream came to an abrupt end. Seema's office was on the 28th floor; why did the elevator stop at the 27th? The elevator stopped but the elevator doors did not open. Nikhil was about to press the button for the 28th floor but his hand stopped mid-air, the elevator light went off.
Had New York been hit by a power failure again? Nikhil regretted not having carefully noted the position of the buttons in the elevator. Just then the small emergency light in the elevator came on dispelling the darkness to some extent. For a moment in the darkness Nikhil had felt that the elevator was hurtling down towards the bottom. However the indicator button still showed 27.
There was one simple solution. If the elevator did not want to go to the 27th floor (did it go only up to the 27th?) he could get out and take another elevator to the 28th. Alternatively he could go to the 28th floor via the stairs. It was only a question of climbing one flight of stairs.
Nikhil pressed the 'U' button for the 28th floor, the 'D' button for the elevator door and several other buttons. Seconds turned to minutes but the elevator door did not open nor did the elevator move upwards. Most dangerous of all the elevator refused to go down.
Nikhil pressed the emergency button but this too was not working. He tried to use the telephone but it was dead. "Thank God" thought Nikhil. "The elevator is stationary. Had it plummeted down, even Parkersberg will turn a dream.
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| Seema's office was on the 28th floor; why did the elevator stop at the 27th? The elevator stopped but the elevator doors did not open. Nikhil was about to press the button for the 28th floor but his hand stopped mid-air, the elevator light went off.
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It struck Nikhil quite late. When he had entered the 48 storey building he had seen 5 or 6 policemen seated at a large table. In front of them were 4 TV monitors and some other sophisticated equipment. "Will they not know that I am trapped here? Will they not rush to my aid?" he thought hopefully. He felt there was no cause for worry. Ofcourse it would take them some time to reach the 27th floor by the stairs.
"Inspite of all this it will be necessary to continue banging on the elevator door," thought Nikhil. "Perhaps there may be someone in the lobby even on a Sunday and waiting to leave office at 5.15."
He could very faintly hear the sirens of police cars.
All of a sudden there was sound of something metallic striking the outside of the elevator door. Nikhil's heart already beating fast, beat even faster. Had some help arrived? But Nikhil's shouts of "Help, hello, help" did not seem to have any effect. Why was the person on the outside saying something trying to communicate with him? Nikhil was shocked.
There was the sound of running foot steps. The beating of Nikhil's heart made it very difficult for him to hear clearly. The next moment he heard the footsteps of two people.
"Who's there?" asked someone in foreign accented English. Thud...thud...thud.... It was the sound of bullets striking. Nikhil felt giddy.
Help seemed to have arrived but if they could not rescue him unharmed what was the use? What were they breaking with bullets? Or was it his imagination?
The elevator doors seemed to be opening slowly. Some fingers were gradually prising the doors apart.
"Who's there? Open the door!" somebody commanded from outside. His voice sounded peculiar and the command stupid. Had he been able to open the door would he have not opened it long back? From the voice Nikhil could judge that it belonged to a 20 year old.
"I can't open it. Please help!" Nikhil tried to explain his situation briefly. Slowly the doors were opening offering a glimpse of fingers. Nikhil was surprised at the thick, rough, dark fingers. Just then a black and fat stub came through the space between the doors.
Bang! Bang!
Nikhil heard the sound clearly but before he could collect his wits smoke issued out of the stub and the elevator was filled with the smell of cordite. Two bullets from the revolver barrel whizzing hardly six inches from Nikhil and boring a hole into the elevator wall passed outside.
Nikhil now realised the seriousness of the situation. On the alert, he quickly moved to one side and bending as low as possible, sat down. The revolver barrel was still moving up and down. The acrid smell of cordite, the smoke, the near darkness and lack of ventilation gave Nikhil the feeling of being trapped in the inside of a whale. He had to make all efforts to remain conscious.
The moment the door opened all sorts of sounds fell on Nikhil's ears - the distant sound of running steps, the sound of men moaning in pain and the sound of intermittent firing. All of a sudden came the staccato sound of a machine gun firing. Nikhil clung to the wall of the elevator. Nearby someone seemed to have been hit by a bullet and he could hear screams and indistinct sounds of "Allah! Allah!"
Seema's words too struck his memory as rapid as machine gun fire "El Al Airlines office is functioning just below our office." Could that be the centre of the fighting?
Nikhil was feeling faint. His muscles had become so taut that leave aside moving, he could hardly breathe. Only his ears were actively passing on messages to his brain.
The revolver muzzle was still moving a little till bullets struck the youth outside who collapsed with a shrill scream. The scream shook up Nikhil, brought him out of his immobility.
Nikhil did not even realise when he got the thought that if the elevator was to move, the door had to close and when he hit the revolver with the heel of his shoe. The revolver got thrown out, the door closed and started opening once more. Bright light flooded the elevator. There was the receding sound of three or four persons running. A man wearing a monkey cap was lying in a heap near the door.
There was no possibility of the elevator moving. There was only one way of escape - to go down quickly using the staircase. If someone was hiding there it was curtain for him. This was at least a better choice than standing exposed in the open elevator. His presumption turned out to be correct. There was no one hiding on the staircase.
Perhaps the police had already arrived and they may have killed the man. There was no need to think of all this. There was the possibility of being accidentally shot by the police in this tense situation.
Remembering God at every step Nikhil started descending the stairs from the 27th floor.
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