Short story- Fruition

Natasha looked at her watch in desperation. It was 3:33pm. The tension on her face rose by the minute as cars around her honked away in the pouring rain. There were just twenty minutes left for her train to depart and here she was, sitting inside the taxi, waiting for the traffic light to turn green. It would really need some supernatural forces to get her on that train today.

It was 3:40 when the driver dropped her off at New Delhi railway station. With one bag slouching on her shoulder, one bag on her back and one stroller dragging behind, she dashed inside to stand in the endless queue for baggage security.

Struggling to keep balance and bumping into everything on her way, Natasha entered the eerily still train carriage a minute before the train was to embark. Complacent and visibly relieved on being seated comfortably before the train embarks, a bunch of nonchalant people looked on amusedly as their fellow passenger heaved and panted in frenzy. After placing her luggage and making arrangements for entertainment for five and a half hours, Natasha dove into her seat, still gasping for a breath. Saved by a second. Phew! Everything was at peace around her. She looked around. Most of her co-passengers were old people, their noses dipped in newspapers, then there was a guy with a baby, and a woman dozing coolly beside them. There was also a college-going guy of medium-built (who wasn’t particularly good-looking, she thought), and after gazing around a few seconds absentmindedly, she stood transfixed. She scrutinized the guy sitting three rows ahead of her over and over again, for she still couldn’t believe her eyes. Yes, he is! That’s the guy! She sank back into her seat. A sudden deluge of emotions overpowered her. She was too bewildered to decide what to do. It was Kabir.

It had been half a year since it happened, and although they had just gone out for the same amount of time, he had been her closest friend for three years. She had been in a relationship with him for three years.

Yes, it was the same guy. How could she forget the sturdy, masculine built, those brawny arms, that beautiful, soft, immaculate skin, that little curly hair on his head that felt like cushions- she almost felt like basking in their bubbly touch, or those plump and tender lips that left her mesmerized the first time they melted into her mouth. Yes, it was the same guy.

She also reminisced all those days and nights she would weep on for hours at a stretch when he left a deep hollow inside her nobody could replace, or how she made frantic attempts to contact him in infinite ways, or how all of it bounced back. How she transformed, after her cotton candy universe had been crushed and burnt to ashes. How she had convinced herself guilty of all that had passed between them, or how desolated she felt that she thought herself to be neurotic.

All of that had made her stronger, and she didn’t repent a single bit, for she knew that everything made sense in the larger picture, and sometimes, it’s important to put a few things on hold to make way for others. Everything happens for a reason, and that reason might seem unlikely to the naïve human perception, but all incidents, thoughts and feelings are fabricated into a framework, and things don’t happen by chance.

After that, all she ever wanted was to catch a glimpse of him, and though she didn’t know what to say or do when she does, or what drove that longing to see him, but she remembered everything that reminded her of her friend. Their late night conversations, their dreams, that witty banter, the times they were there for each other. That touch.

Yet, here he was now. In front of her. The same built, same dark, intense, sparkling eyes. A few inches away from her. Yet, a stranger. A complete stranger. Now, at this moment, sitting there and looking at this perfectly acquainted stranger, she pondered over what she should do. She couldn’t stay put and make no move. There was far too much anger, anguish, remorse, longing and probably love (though she didn’t want to think of that as a cause) for that. She just didn’t realize what she wanted to do. She could, perhaps, go over, pop up from behind and scream ‘hi!’ like nothing had happened – like they were friends! This tactic could result in three ways- he could reciprocate the same effusive vibes by beaming a ‘hi!’ but she knew that that was highly unlikely, being such a stubborn, narcissistic prick that he was. He could also look at her, make a disgusted face and slash out, ‘What the hell! Get lost’. Or the third response, the one she feared the most. He wouldn’t say anything at all, just ignore her with a cold face and resort to his movie. No emotion, no resentment, just plain disregard.

Now that she had almost five hours with HER guy, she had enough time to plan strategically.

She could also wait for him to get up from his seat and go to the loo. That will be an excellent opportunity to go out of the compartment and corner him. Appear suddenly in front of his eyes and finally do what she’d been waiting to since forever- a reverberating slap on right- and when he gets back on his knees, another resounding slap on the left. Then, before he could react, kicking him in his sensitive place like a kung fu master.

But no, she wanted it to be more dramatic.

Rewind- he enters. She says in the most fiendish tone ever, ‘hey! I forgot to give you back something of yours’ and then the ramming. Yeah, that feels about right, with the shock and disbelief factor included.

Natasha smiled. She looked around her as if to check that nobody was listening to her confidential war tactics here. She wouldn’t want anyone to come between her target and herself.

Now, there was another strategy. This was really discreet and low-key. She could write a letter, full of mordacious remarks and unrelenting sarcasm, and pass it to him as she walks by. Then he’ll know that she is not somebody to be messed with.

Natasha let out a sigh. She knew this was madness. What was she doing? That person hadn’t seen her in six months, hadn’t talked to her in six months. He might have just moved on. And what has she got to do with it? Her role in his life was over and holding on to something that didn’t exist would make her go crazy.

So she decided not to stir the past.

She decided to stay put.

Bury the hatchet.

Seek out the future.

At that point, her entire life changed.

Just a few minutes after she closed her eyes there was a slight tap on her shoulder. ‘Hi!’, said the voice in front of her. To her surprise, those tiny shimmering eyes beamed at her, with an unbeatable innocence. She grinned back. She could easily reply to that person and she didn’t need to rehearse for that.

‘Hi’, she said, smirking.

‘How are you?’

‘I’m good, life’s amazing. What about you?’

‘I’m good too. I was wondering how I’d spend my time on the journey, it’s great that I found you!’

‘Haha, same here. Why are you standing?’

‘Yeah, let’s go outside. It’s a bit stuffy in here’. He gesticulated, ‘after you’. Natasha went out as he trailed behind. Some stories need a restart so that they can begin the right way this time. Not everything that’s broken is unrepairable. It just needs the right time and the right mind to see it to fruition!

#writing #shortstory