He sat on the rickety bench in the park, his hand fidgeting with a crumpled old photograph, as he reminisced. His mind was racing away with a thousand thoughts at that moment and he needed to calm down. He needed to take long deep breaths to cool down.

“It’s a terrible thing to be cheated upon.”

He looked beside him and was surprised to see her sitting next to him. As the evening sun’s last rays fell on her face she looked even more beautiful. Her wavy brown hair was left open and her eyes sparkled as she spoke.

“Wh…wh…what?” he asked, surprised at this unknown stranger who had suddenly appeared next to him on the bench.

She smiled knowingly at him as her outstretched hand touched his. They were soft and gentle. But warm. She looked at him in the eye and smiled. There was a familiarity about her which he could not place.

“I know you. And believe me I also know how it feels to be cheated by your closest person. The anger, the hurt, the humiliation. I feel every bit of it like you do at this moment”, she said. Her hand gripped his tighter as she said these words.

“I don’t understand what you’re saying”, he replied, perplexed at the familiarity this stranger was showing towards him.

3 hours earlier.

He checked her whatsapp just as she had gone off to the other room to change. His worst fears had come true, as he hurriedly read all the messages. What he’d been dreading these last few months was now staring him in the face as stark reality. He was shattered.

He followed her Uber from a distance. His heart broke as he saw her enter the plush apartment complex. He knew the inevitable truth. He quietly sneaked in behind her. His heart snapped as he saw her ring the bell. A well built man opened the door and hugged her. He felt his whole body shudder in rage as he saw them embrace.

He didn’t know he had the strength, but he slammed the door open with a ferocious kick. They were still in the living room as he barged in. They broke their kiss to face him, horrified. He drew his pistol from the back and fired indiscriminately at them. The first two shots hit her in the face and she collapsed immediately. As he watched her body go lifeless in seconds he turned the gun on the tall guy, who was shaking violently and pleading for mercy. He didn’t hear anything as he shot at him. His hands were shaking the bullet grazed his upper arms as he fell to the floor beside her body. He ran close to him and kicked him continuously on his bleeding arm, his abdomen and face. He was in blind fury as he kept on kicking the man till he stopped moving.

As he ran out, he saw a frightened face behind the curtain. He didn’t care to know who she was as he ran out of the broken door.

“You didn’t check if he died, you know.”

He was brought back to the present by the soft but assured voice of the stranger sitting beside him.

He turned around to see her properly this time. She was the frightened woman behind the curtain.

“It’s funny how both of us decided to confront our cheating spouses on the same day”, she smiled, as she realised he had finally recognised her. “I hid in the house telling him I was going out and you followed your wife here. It was providence.”

“I saw him move a little after you left you know”, she continued. “And that’s when I knew I had to complete what you started. I used the pillow. The same one on which I used to cry every time he’d cheat on me”.

He kept staring at the crumpled picture he held in his hands. It was from a happier time when they were newly in love. Full of hope and promises of a rosy future ahead of them. How that has led to this!!! He kept staring at the picture for a long time as tears streamed down his face.

“I loved her. I loved her you know. Maybe I still do”, he said in between his sobs. He turned around to face the stranger sitting next to him. But there was no one. She had gone. And he knew he was never going to see her again.

He got up from the bench as he flung the photograph in the nearby bin.

“Maybe there’s a better life waiting somewhere for me”, he thought to himself as he carried his weary body away from the park.

Copyright (c) Pratik Majumdar

He saw her across the corridor. He was certain it was her. He was about to swipe his card to enter his room when he heard that laugh. It was too familiar for him not to look up and turn at the direction from where it came. And then he saw her. With her husband. It was just a fraction of a second before they both entered their room but that was all he needed to know it was her.

He couldn’t believe he’d be seeing her. After all it had been three years. The last time they had met was at the park. On their regular bench where he’d been waiting for her and she came and flung her wedding card on his face and left. He had not seen her since that day. The memories came rushing back to him as he entered his room and collapsed on his bed, blankly staring at the hotel ceiling.

“She must be here on holiday with her husband”, he thought to himself. What a coincidence. He was here for a couple of days for work. And what were the odds that he would bump into her here. They lived in the same city and hadn’t met in three years. And here they were, both in a different city sharing the same floor in the same hotel.

That evening he went down to the oriental restaurant of the hotel for his dinner. He was lost in his thoughts stirring his soup unmindfully when he heard that laugh again. And once more, there she was. This time he got a clearer view and confirmed it was indeed her. She sat facing him, with her husband having his back towards him. He quickly put his head down and took a few sips from his steaming soup. He hoped she hadn’t seen him. She was too engrossed with her husband anyway. From the corner of his eye he looked at her. She was animatedly explaining something to her husband. So typical of her, he thought to himself. Always animated, always excited. Passionate about any and every point she had to make. He could see her husband nod from time as she went on with her words. As always she seems oblivious of the world around her. She was talking to her husband and only saw him.

He remembered their last meeting. It was with the same passion that she spoke to him that day. “You will always remain a loser in your life. You are and always will always remain incapable of taking a stand. Taking a decision. But know this much, I cannot go on waiting for you. I need to move on with my life. And I am moving on. Here see”, she said condescendingly, as she flung her wedding card on his face. He sat there motionless. Stunned by her words, shocked at her outburst! Shattered by her ultimatum! The last he remembered was seeing her brown and light-brown streaked mane bouncing as she stormed off the park and got into her car. He would never see or hear from her again in the next three years.

He was brought back from the past by the waiter asking him if he’d like a main dish after his soup. He hurriedly asked for his bill to be sent to his room as he moved away from the dining room.

He was thankful she hadn’t seen him.

*****

She was happy to see him. The moment her eyes turned as she and her husband were about to enter their hotel room she saw him across the corridor, trying to enter his own room. Fumbling with the swipe card, true to his nature! She laughed out loud. It was a spontaneous laugh and yet part of her also wanted to attract his attention on her. She felt a tad disappointed when he didn’t notice her and entered his own room instead.

As she entered their room, her husband had his arms all over her. She responded to his embraces and kisses alright but her mind was thinking of him. She had seen him after 3 years. It had been that long.

She knew she was the dominant one in their relationship but yet there were some things she wanted him to take charge. For seven years they were together and yet he showed no signs of coming up to her family and making things official. He kept on delaying it for some reason or the other. Finally she had to give in to her father’s wishes. Actually more than ‘give in’ she gladly accepted. She was fed up. 

She remembered the same fumble, the lack of reaction the unwillingness to react that fateful day when she flung her wedding card on his face and walked away. She half-expected him to get up from his slumber and follow her. Cajole her, plead, beg her to stay, to change her mind. But he didn’t. As she sat in her car, she waited for a couple of seconds before turning the ignition on. Hoping against hope he’d make a last minute appearance asking her to stop. But he didn’t. And she drove away. As she made love to her husband, old memories came rushing back to her, as she stared blankly at the hotel ceiling. A solitary tear, rolled down her eyes.

“Chinese or Indian”, her thoughts of the past which stayed with her in the dining room, were broken by her husband’s enquiry. “Indian please”, she replied almost instantly without a thought. She didn’t want to be disturbed from her past. She had seen him sitting in the other corner of the large dining hall. Contemplating whether to take a sip from his soup or not. Unsure, undecided, hesitant as always. She saw him and once again, like at the corridor, laughed out loud. Then she turned to her husband to explain animatedly why she preferred to have Indian that night instead of her usual favourite Chinese. Her husband kept nodding away, used to her nature by now. But a larger part of her excitement was to try and catch his attention across the room. Throughout their dinner, she spoke to her husband, held his hands at times, but her mind was on him all the while. She hoped against hope that this time he would see her. “At least make eye contact” she pleaded in her thoughts. His dinner was short. He finished his soup and got off the table. 

She was disappointed he hadn’t seen her. 

*****

As he was checking out of the hotel strains of a Dylan song wafted in from a distance. He heard the lines oh so clearly:

Me, I’m just on the road

Heading for another joint 

We always did feel the same

We just saw it from a different point of view

Copyright (c) Pratik Majumdar

He knew he couldn’t reach his destination that day. It was evening already and he still had over 200 miles to cover. He didn’t trust his night driving skills too much and decided to take a halt. It was the dreaded Highway 62 and he wanted to stop and take shelter for the night in a proper motel. There were innumerable instances of people along with their vehicles disappearing mysteriously from Highway 62. He wanted to make sure he found a proper motel to stop for the night.

His car radio played a mix of CCR and Little River Band. It was a compilation he’d made himself and loved playing it on long drives. There were also a couple of Lynnrd Skynnrd songs thrown in for good measure. His eyes were drooping now and he knew he had to stop when he saw the motel.

Charlie’s Motel was a brightly lit motel which seemed to have come up recently. The building looked new and modern and had a bright neon shining with said VACANCY. He felt relieved. Motels were far and few on this highway and most of them derelict and run down. This one seemed the happy exception.

He parked his car in the parking outside the motel. There weren’t any other cars parked. The highway wasn’t a busy one these days ever since the new 8-lane motorway had come up but even then he was surprised not to see a single car.

He walked in to an empty reception area. The place smelt of new paint. He waited for a while for someone to turn up but no one did. From further inside he thought he heard the radio play country music. He pressed the bell on the reception a couple of times in quick succession.

After a few minutes a tall gentleman not a day older than 30 walked up to him. His jet black hair was gelled sideways neatly and his piercing eyes had an unmistakable twinkle about them. His lanky frame was accentuated by the loose black pullover he wore over his faded blue jeans. “Can we help?”  he asked with a slight smile.

“Well I need a room to stay the night and if possible some dinner as well. I plan to leave early morning tomorrow so maybe I can pay you the full amount now itself, if you can offer me a room,” he asked, knowing that the motel was empty.

“You’re in luck aren’t you,”  the motel owner replied, his smirk intact. “We have 12 rooms and 12 vacancies. You can in fact choose your room,”  he laughed loud.

“Well I’m just dead beat and wouldn’t mind any room really. Give me room 7 if that’s ok.” 7 was his lucky number and he felt comfortable spending the night in that room.

“I’ll get you a burger and chips,”  the motel owner said as he helped him with his suitcase in the room. He was pleased at the motel owner’s hospitality. “A burger would be nice”, he replied as he stretched himself on the comfortable double bed.

He didn’t know when he had dozed off. The bed was really comfortable and his tiredness from driving the whole day had finally crept in. He was just sinking into a deeper slumber when he heard the knock on the door.

“Hi I am Charlie, of Charlie’s Motel”, the lanky gentleman finally introduced himself, as he placed the tray of burger chips and a milkshake on the table adjacent to the bed. “Enjoy your dinner. I will be at the reception in the morning when you leave. You can pay me then”, he said as he left the room.

He was groggy from being woken up but his hunger made him open his eyes fully. He looked at the appetising burger and devoured it in no time washing it down with an occasional sip of the milkshake. Charlie was right. “The burger is excellent indeed”, he said to himself, as he got up and walked towards the window after finishing his simple dinner. He called his wife back home as he stood near the window. “Will reach by lunch time tomorrow darling” he said. The neon light was still flashing the VACANCY sign. It was late at night and there was not a single car seen on the deserted highway. “It’s time to sleep”, he thought to himself heading back to the comfortable bed.

He slept peacefully.

Next morning Sergeant Johnson led his search team across Highway 62. “Yet another missing person on this God-damned wretched highway. I wonder why folks still use this route”, he thought to himself. The GPS tracker showed this stretch as the last place where the victim’s phone was used. But this was an empty stretch of land. No building no sign of anything was around the two mile radius of the last place of GPS tracking. “I wonder why he stopped here.” the Sergeant wondered. “There is nothing here. I remember somewhere in this vicinity there was that motel which belonged to Dave and Melanie’s son Charlie. That was some 30 years ago. When the highway was bustling and motels did terrific business. But now there’s nothing. Wonder why the guy stopped here. There isn’t a soul around anywhere nearby,” the sergeant walked away confused, not knowing where next to conduct his search.

 “Another missing person on Highway 62” he sighed as he got on to his jeep.

Copyright (c) Pratik Majumdar

She kept looking at him and carried on laughing. Her mouth was gagged and there were bruise marks on her face. Her hands were tied at the back. She knelt in the corner of the old store room. And she laughed and laughed.

“Stop it!!! What the hell is wrong with you,” he asked her, taken aback by her behaviour. “You’ve been kidnapped and a ransom demand has been made to your father. And here you are, laughing away hysterically.”  He just couldn’t believe her.

“What can I do,” she said, trying to control her laughter, but failing miserably. “This whole thing is so funny. I just can’t help it.” She burst out into heavy laughter all over again. “I am trying to visualise my dad’s face when he gets this video. I wish someone recorded his expression as he saw this video,” she laughed.

He stood there watching her laugh despite her situation. It was then he realised how much she hated her father. Four months ago they were strangers to one another. They had met in an online group on Beat Literature and had gotten close to one another. He loved her knowledge and passion about all things Beat. And she loved his spontaneity, wit and style of writing. They soon began to communicate with each other even outside the group. It was just over a month since their introduction in the group, that they met in person.

He found her attractive and was drawn to her almost instantly. She too seemed eager and keen to be with him and to get to know him even better. It was an instant and intense attraction between them. Gradually as time went by, she opened up to him. He found out that her mother had passed on. And that she blamed her father for her death. That accident had created a rift between her father and her and that she was pulling herself more and more away from her father. Sometimes she would tell him about her outbursts at home and he felt she was deliberately making things tough for her father. It seemed to him, that she would do anything to antagonise her father.

It was her plan.

At first he was shocked. Too stunned to even react. But she kept on pressurising him. He knew how convincing she could be and ultimately gave in and agreed.

He would “kidnap” her from her yoga class one evening and keep her locked in a far off desolate place. He would film her being roughed up and tied and gagged and send the video to her father from an untraceable number. And then ask for a fancy sum as random. “Naturally we will split the money” she told him. “After all I want my share too,” she said with a smirk on her face. “And your share will be useful to you too. Dont tell me that you don’t need the money,” she looked at him in the eyes with a smile that sent shivers down his spine. Sometimes her coldness, her ruthlessness, scared him. He agreed.

As per her plan , he fake-kidnapped her on a Wednesday. They had earlier selected a desolate bungalow, a couple of hours drive outside the city. They went there and then he tied her up gagged her gave her fake injury scars on her face and then shot the video. She put up a fantastic performance as the hapless victim. He promptly sent the video to her father from his phone, after successfully ensuring the call could not be traced back to him. It was all working like a dream.

As they sat together waiting for her father to respond, he suddenly got worried. “What if your father refuses to put the ransom? Then what?” From what all he had heard from her about their relation he couldn’t be absolutely sure that he’d agree to pay.”Oh he will surely pay,” she reassured him. “He has to show the whole world how much he cares for me, although I know secretly he’d wish I was dead,” she added with a deadpan face.

It was a Friday.

Finally her father responded. He was willing to pay the sum as demanded by the kidnapper. They both saw his message and were elated. “At long last,” she exclaimed !!! “My worries will be over. With half that amount I don’t have to be with him any more. I can live on my own.” He too was happy that her father had agreed. But this was the toughest part of the whole plan, he realised that.

“I will make it really tough for him before he gives the money,” he thought out aloud. The day for payment was decided as Monday. It will be a weekday and nice and crowded in most places.

He hatched an elaborate and complicated plan to get the money. He kept sending instructions via text messages to her father making him run from one end of the city to the other, never giving him a clue what the next step would be. Finally after making him run for more than a couple of hours he asked him to step on a local train and throw the bag from the train near a bridge. Her father did exactly as he was instructed.

It was evening when he came back to the storeroom where she still was “kidnapped” and kept. He had a gleam in his eyes as he dangled the bag containing the ransom amount in front of her. Her expression mirrored his, as they excitedly emptied the contents of the bag and began to make two separate piles. That’s when he noticed she had a revolver in her bag. For the first time he’d seen that. “What’s this for,” he asked with a surprised look on his face. “Oh it’s always there with me, for protection,” she replied calmly. “Is it real?” he was worried as he asked her. “I wonder what else I don’t know about you,” he looked at her with an uncertain smile.

She smiled and fired a shot from her gun in the air. A chunk of the ceiling cement fell near both of them, startling him. She laughed out loud again.

And then there was another shot.

He turned around to see her father standing at the door of the storeroom with a gun in his hand. He was pointing it at his daughter and she pointed her gun back at her father.

As he stood perplexed in the middle of all this, she quietly got up and went closer to her father, her gun still pointed at him. Her father’s gun too remained pointed at her. Their cool and calm demeanour was enough to unnerve him. “What the hell is happening here,” he screamed at her!!!

“Nothing my darling, just settling a few old scores,” she smiled as both she and her father stood next to each other and turned their guns simultaneously on him. She and her dad looked at each other and smiled.

4 years ago…

It was a busy Monday when they left the city. “Hopefully the highway wont have much traffic,” he said looking directly at his wife. Their 19 year old daughter was seated at the back seat excited about going for a short break out of the city in their new car.

“Please look at the road and drive,” his wife admonished him lightly, a tad embarrassed at his show of affection. He looked straight towards the road and smiled knowingly. They were all happy that day.

Out of nowhere a speeding car came from the wrong wide of the road and crashed straight into them. Before he could steer the car away the crash happened, loud and hard, making the car turn turtle. The sounds of screeching breaks and shattering glass all around buried their screams and shrieks.

It was nine hours later that she opened her eyes. She found herself in a hospital with bandages and drips all around her. Her father too was injured but less than her. When she gingerly asked about her mother, all he did was to shake his head, unable to stop his tears from flowing out.

It took father and daughter some time to recover from the physical shock of the accident. About eight months later he finally spoke to her about it.

“I got the number of the other car. I will find out who was driving it. His car didn’t suffer much. Neither did he. He waited for sometime but didn’t budge an inch to help us. I cried out to him to help us out of the car but he didn’t. He looked at me and sat back in his car and drove off. Your mother would have survived had he…” her father’s voice trailed off as his eyes swelled up again.

She held his hands tightly and looked at him. “We will find him papa, we will,” she said as she squeezed his hands tightly.

Present day:

Flies hovered around his dead body. There were two bullet marks on his forehead. One each fired from the two revolvers. The revolvers were thrown in the lake 23 miles from the region of the storeroom. He lay there stripped of all his identity and belongings.

She made two cups of black coffee and put them on the tray containing the almond cookies. She carried the tray to the balcony where her father was sitting, watching the evening sun set. She sat next to him and rested her head on his shoulders. Neither said a word. But their silence that evening spoke louder than anyone else.

Copyright (c) Pratik Majumdar

He always loved a window seat. Even if it meant sitting right behind in the bus. The jerks and bumps would be more he knew but he didn’t mind as long as he got to sit by the window. He loved gazing out in the open on a speeding bus. Meadows, fields, cottages, hillocks passing by in a blur of green and brown. Those images made him happy. He usually hummed to himself on such journeys. One song after another.

Today he had a mixed compilation playing on his headphone. It was a “‘my favourite love songs” mix he’d done a while ago. Cat Stevens, Joni Mitchell, Judee Sills, Van Morrison and a host of others. He hadn’t heard this in a while now. He was looking forward to listening to it as it’s playtime was almost similar to his journey time. A little under an hour.

As Charlie Rich’s soothing vocals sang “The Most Beautiful Girl” his mind started wandering. Going back to happier times he spent with her. SHE was the “most beautiful girl” to him. She meant everything to him. They had so many plans together. His thoughts took him back to the time when they were both struggling newbies in a new town. A chance meeting at a local supermarket had started it all. A love affair that was way too deep, intense and fulfilling to be called that. In a matter of a short time they were living together in a cramped studio which they shared. Life had looked promising ahead.

Meanwhile in the same bus

Joni Mitchell’s Clouds was playing on her earphones. She was happy that the old gentleman by the window side had exchanged his seat with her. She hated aisle seats anyways. People always would bump into her, sometimes unwittingly and sometimes otherwise. Hence she jumped when the old man offered her his window seat. It’s easier for me to use the loo you see, he explained. Not that she needed any explanation.

Her mind was filled with all that was happening in her life at that moment. She had to sort out all the mess that her work and personal life had been in. A trip back home to her mom always revitalised her and now she was heading back to town, ready to face her struggles.

She was surprised Joni Mitchell was on her playlist. She was never much of a fan of “HIS” type of music. HE loved Joni, Van, and so many of those singer-songwriter types. She on the other hand preferred good old 80s pop. Madonna and Culture Club could seldom be topped in her books. She however didn’t skip the Joni song but heard on as she sang

“I’ve looked at clouds from both sides now,
from up and down, 
and still somehow it’s clouds illusions I recall, 
I really don’t know clouds at all”.

The song seemed to reflect her present state of mind.

She remembered those times shared with him. In that tiny studio apartment. It was cosy but they had so much of love filled in that space. They dreamed of making it big in the city together. For each other. With each other. How they naively believed all they’d ever need was love. Her mind got agitated when she remembered all those times when things went horribly wrong. The same cosy studio felt cramped and choking at the times when love flew out of the window. She couldn’t deal with his moods his tantrums his questions. She felt the need to move out. And breathe…

…………….

The bus carried on its journey towards its destination. Stops came and went. People got in and out. Kids were singing, men and women talking, discussing arguing. Everything was like always. Routine. Regular. Usual. And in the same bus sat two people, who lived in the same city but in different worlds. Moving on with time but still carrying an old memory, an old smile, an old love tucked somewhere deep in their heart. At times those memories would be stirred up by something like a song or a movie or even a line uttered by someone somewhere. Those memories made their hearts a little warmer in their cold world. The world is full of inexplicable coincidences. Sometimes we get to see and experience them. Most of the times we don’t.

They both got off at the same stop. The final stop and made their way to their respective directions to their respective worlds. They hadn’t seen each other in the bus. Both unaware that they occupied each other’s thoughts throughout the journey.

Copyright (c) Pratik Majumdar

He was sitting by his window when her call came. It had been cloudy all these days and finally the rains had come well and truly. He loved gazing aimlessly out his window watching the rain. He could almost feel getting drenched by them. He loved that feeling.

His moments of solitude where interrupted by the vibration of his mobile phone. He looked up and was surprised to see her name flashing. After all it had been 4 months.

He kept staring at the phone unable to decide whether to pick it up or not. He felt unsure. Because, he knew her. Once she’d decided it was over between them nothing and no one could change her mind. Hence he was surprised to see her call after all this time.

He finally did pick up the phone.

“Never thought I’d call again did you,” she sounded bright and cheerful. Once again he was taken aback by her tone. He was expecting her to sound grim, stern and stoic, not this cheery. “How…how are you,” he fumbled, his mind still confused with too many thoughts.

They had broken up four months ago. Fights and disagreements had been an integral part of their relationship. Tumultuous was the word he often used to describe what they shared, in his post-break up phase. They were both strong-willed egocentric individuals and like their love even their disagreements had a lot of passion. The fights had increased drastically towards the end. At one point it felt every time any one of them opened their mouths it would lead to a counter retort from the other, ending up in a bitter fight. It seemed as if they’d forgotten to be nice sweet and loving towards each other. After one of such many violent disagreements, she’d decided they split up. “It’s no use fighting like cats and dogs just to stay together. We hardly have fun anymore,” she announced. “We can always try,” he had tried to reason. But like always she overruled him. “I can’t stay with you any longer.” She had made her mind up. She had to move on.

“Are you still moping about for me, or have you moved on CB,” she chirped, knowing his response very well. She knew he was still pining for her. “I…I am single still but doing well,” he tried to sound chirpy too adding a false bravado to his tone. “My little Cry Baby,” she cooed on the other side, smiling it herself. “Ok so we fought again and this time it lasted four months. Can we be normal again,” as always, she was calling the shots. He nodded silently, the mobile stuck to his ear, not a word from his lips. “I can’t see you, you idiot, but I know that’s a yes,” she laughed out loud. She knew too well.

They spoke for hours that day. Cleared out a lot of things, misunderstandings, and a whole lot of unresolved issues. They both felt happy from inside. For all their fighting and disagreements they did share a love which they knew was special. It couldn’t end so easily. I’m not promising you no more fights, get it CB, she was still teasing him relentlessly. She called him Cry Baby as she knew he was a softie from inside. “Yeah right, as if I don’t know you,” he retorted with gusto. By now he was back in his elements, the happiness of having her back in his life, evident in his tone. “Let’s meet quickly instead of wasting our time on phone calls,” he said. “Our usual place. In an hour,” she was excited at seeing him after a long gap too. They both were.

“I don’t know why you had to do this,” the elderly gentleman told her, as she disconnected her mobile and struggled to get off her bed. She looked at him and smiled.”You won’t understand this doctor. You have to know CB to understand. If he finds out a couple of months later he will be shattered. I can’t make him go through that. No matter what happens to me.”

These four months had taken a toll on her looks. She was almost half her size now and her lustrous mane now reduced to a fashionable boy cut. She yanked the drips off her arm even before the elderly gentleman could take them off her. She put on a trendy cap and her favourite Armani shades. He had gifted them to her on her last birthday. She smiled as she saw herself in the mirror. “CB get ready to be bowled over again,” she cooed.

“Can I at least drop you,” the gentleman offered. “No worries doc, I can drive very well even now,” her eyes twinkled as she grabbed the keys from the bookshelf. As she sat in the driver’s seat she noticed the envelope from the nursing home in the passenger’s seat. The positive malignancy report from the oncologist still lay there. She folded the envelope twice over and put in her handbag. “Let me leave him smiling and happy. With happy memories of me,”  she said to herself as she turned on the ignition.

The car sped along, reaching its destination where he was eagerly waiting to meet her, to start a new life. And she was reaching there, just to be in time for a last happy goodbye.

Copyright (c) Pratik Majumdar

“It was the worst movie I’ve ever seen”, he complained as they walked out of the theatre. “Disgusting, propagandist, and pseudo to the core”. He couldn’t contain himself once he started.

“It’s just a movie. Why are you overreacting”, she asked, bemused at his reaction. “See it, enjoy it, forget it”.

“I can’t you know”, he said, still seething. “I feel strongly about these things”.

She took him by his hand and led him to the crowded food court. It was a weekend evening and the place was teeming with people. Ladies garishly dressed, men wearing clothes they ought not wear. Noisy children running about making pests of themselves whilst their parents obviously didn’t care. Thousands of plastic bags flaunting high end brands all over the mall. “It’s another way of making money”, he snarled. “If they were so concerned about the environment they’d make paper bags instead of charging for the plastic ones”, he fumed.

“Will you just relax”, she said looking right into his eyes, as she gently placed her hand on his.

She knew what ticked him off and what didn’t. He felt deeply about things and hence got affected by them more easily than most others. She knew him. Understood him. She knew when to keep quiet and let him rant, helping him vent out his feelings, and when to make him stop. She was the one solace he had in a tough unfair world.

He got up abruptly and walked towards the tea stall. His ginger tea and her latte. Constants in their lives, like each other. He carried both the cups and sat down opposite her. She looked at him and smiled. “Aren’t you hungry? Should I get some snacks”, she smiled at him and asked, whilst picking her mug up to take a sip.

“Naah. I overdid the popcorn bit in the theatre” he said, not looking at her but instead fiddling with his cup. She waited for him to say more, but he remained silent.

“Ok now, out with it. I know it’s not just the movie. There’s something bothering you and I want you to tell me. Don’t keep it bottled up inside”. She finally exploded, unable to keep her cool which she was finding hard to maintain all evening.

He was taken aback by the sudden change in her tone. He recognised the seriousness when she sounded like this. “I don’t know. I…I just don’t feel right. About anything. About everything”, he blurted. “I am unhappy. I can’t seem to find peace. I feel as if I’m sinking and taking you along with me too. And you don’t deserve this. To be stuck with me here in a meaningless relationship”. He knew he should have stopped a while back, but couldn’t do so.

“Did you just say meaningless”, she said, looking at him directly in the eyes as she slowly pulled her hand away from his. Her eyes did the rest of the talking, in the midst of that awkward long silence. Suddenly it seemed the food court too had become silent.

The noise in the food court which seemed to have abated started again as two people sitting there were involved in a life altering conversation. He realised he was losing her. She knew her level of patience had been breached. She couldn’t go on this way any longer.

She wiped her eyes swiftly with a tissue paper, placed it back on the table as she got up. She picked her bag up looked at him one last time and turned around. His head hung, looking vacantly at his tea up as he felt her walking away from the table. From his life. He knew he’d lost her forever.

He sat there for a long time after that. With that undrunk cup of tea. Half hoping she’d come back, half lost in his own thoughts.

“Come on darling let’s go, we will get late for the movie”, the voice startled her, bringing her back to the present day from her thoughts of the past. She looked up and saw the loving rotund jolly man she had married six years ago. He gave her no cause to complain,loved her selflessly, took care of her dedicatedly. Her life now seemed complete.

Love? That was a thing of the past. She now felt grateful. Her life was now about understanding and fulfilling. Sometimes we can love inexplicably without reason and without logic. And yet at times we are unable to love despite all the reasons being there. Today she realised what those lines, that she had once read in a book, meant.

She took his hand as she got up. “Let’s go for the movie”, she smiled, leaving her latte on the table just like that solitary cup of tea which was left behind at the adjacent table.

Copyright (c) Pratik Majumdar