The car slid between others and waited at the stop light. She rolled down the windows and looked to her left. Nothing interesting, except for the jazzy red Merc before her. She looked right and saw same sights of poverty making the sad most of children. Thoughtlessly, she changed the track. The next song in took her years back, to when the song had most impacted her. To a time from where she could not move ahead. To words she could never speak out.
"Nirja."
She would have replied, had he bothered to ask for her name amidst the pool of glamorous faces, all in their pretty black dresses and long wavy hair, sensuously dancing to the latest pop hits. He was from the boys section of the same Alma Mater, and the Best Athlete during their time. Nirja had eyed him for the three years of college but never quite made it to go up to him and speak. And he, he did not seem the type who would care for the college magazine's editorial board. This Reunion was a joke of sorts. The faces were never friends when together, but in separation a virtual bond tied them.
Her car sped as the lights turned green. Impulsively she swerved to the left lane, and decided not to go to work. The traffic was thickening as she realized what she had done. Calling in sick at her office she took to the way of river, pulled up her windows, increased the volume went out of city limits and slipped into a near past. A space of nothingness that she filled up with meaning. She landed at an unknown location, civilised only in its various shop boards, the familiar franchisees from her city. She settled down for a cup of tea which took time to arrive because it was tailored sugarless for her, in her car, overlooking the brimming river. The dialogue continued further back:
"I had to procure the passes for tennis finals with great difficulty. But I wanted to watch you play."
In his charming best, he replied, "And?"
"And, you were fabulous. And I would like to have more comfortable conversations with you."
He was pleasantly surprised and immediately gave her his mobile number with the unfailing hint of flirting, "All yours." He went on to invite her for a neighbourhood friendly he would be playing that Sunday. Nirja was overjoyed. She returned home to songs which seemed to have been written for her flighty situation.
She went in her casual best, and looked quite attractive. He lost the match and proposed a brunch. Over the loaded sandwich, he managed the crucial, "I lost because I was distracted." The timing of the sentence brought to life the butterflies in her stomach. She could neither chew, nor gulp. Till Sunday, Nirja and Aniket had spoken a hundred words lot over text messages. They were bordering on the dangerous line of giving away the moment the other did.
"My parents are off for the weekend, would you like to come over?"
Having taken her time, which was no time, she yes'd. Yes'd. Yes'd to him, his invites, his touches, her desires.
Soon after, they had nothing to talk.
Deep within, Nirja knew this could only go so far so she never went up to him. That way, beautiful words remained hers, for as long as she wanted. Beautiful words with him, on such days beside the river.
The sound of the streamer joined the sound of children getting off to run to the local school. She came back to her senses.
A mess of miracles.
"Nirja."
She would have replied, had he bothered to ask for her name amidst the pool of glamorous faces, all in their pretty black dresses and long wavy hair, sensuously dancing to the latest pop hits. He was from the boys section of the same Alma Mater, and the Best Athlete during their time. Nirja had eyed him for the three years of college but never quite made it to go up to him and speak. And he, he did not seem the type who would care for the college magazine's editorial board. This Reunion was a joke of sorts. The faces were never friends when together, but in separation a virtual bond tied them.
Her car sped as the lights turned green. Impulsively she swerved to the left lane, and decided not to go to work. The traffic was thickening as she realized what she had done. Calling in sick at her office she took to the way of river, pulled up her windows, increased the volume went out of city limits and slipped into a near past. A space of nothingness that she filled up with meaning. She landed at an unknown location, civilised only in its various shop boards, the familiar franchisees from her city. She settled down for a cup of tea which took time to arrive because it was tailored sugarless for her, in her car, overlooking the brimming river. The dialogue continued further back:
"I had to procure the passes for tennis finals with great difficulty. But I wanted to watch you play."
In his charming best, he replied, "And?"
"And, you were fabulous. And I would like to have more comfortable conversations with you."
He was pleasantly surprised and immediately gave her his mobile number with the unfailing hint of flirting, "All yours." He went on to invite her for a neighbourhood friendly he would be playing that Sunday. Nirja was overjoyed. She returned home to songs which seemed to have been written for her flighty situation.
She went in her casual best, and looked quite attractive. He lost the match and proposed a brunch. Over the loaded sandwich, he managed the crucial, "I lost because I was distracted." The timing of the sentence brought to life the butterflies in her stomach. She could neither chew, nor gulp. Till Sunday, Nirja and Aniket had spoken a hundred words lot over text messages. They were bordering on the dangerous line of giving away the moment the other did.
"My parents are off for the weekend, would you like to come over?"
Having taken her time, which was no time, she yes'd. Yes'd. Yes'd to him, his invites, his touches, her desires.
Soon after, they had nothing to talk.
Deep within, Nirja knew this could only go so far so she never went up to him. That way, beautiful words remained hers, for as long as she wanted. Beautiful words with him, on such days beside the river.
The sound of the streamer joined the sound of children getting off to run to the local school. She came back to her senses.
A mess of miracles.
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