She found the envelope
Kept within a book...after twenty years almost!
A red one...hand made stuff...
She looked at the envelope...
And...
Remembered the day...
A wet wintry day it was...
Mid December but the sky was a bit cloudy...
'It would rain...probably'
He murmured, sitting by her side at the deserted canteen of the university...
A scrapbook was open before him as usual...
She ordered two samosas...
The hot samosas came soon with red tomato sauce...
Rakhal da was busy calculating something sitting on his high stool...
The day was wet, moist, unlike a December date...
She was looking around...
He was drawing a picture or something on a page of the scrapbook...
'You have got nothing to say na?'
She had finally asked him, breaking the silence...
Between them...in the lonely canteen...with empty tables barring theirs;
'What?'
He had muttered, busy drawing a pencil sketch on the paper...
'About us?'
She enquired, feeling despondent really...
'Hmmm...'
Was his brief iconic reply;
'You're an ass...'
She teethed her words, mincing almost...
Enraged within;
'Hole...add that up...'
He said and chuckled, still drawing something;
She felt like grabbing the scrapbook and throwing it away...
She felt like landing a fist of fury on his nonchalant face...
He...
Was still drawing...
'Okay...I'm going...here's the money for samosas...eat more if you want...'
Saying this she went away, hurriedly, out of the canteen...
Her mom called just then...
Out on the street she yelled over phone to her dearest mom:
'Yes! yes! I agree to marry that poker faced middleaged junk! don't bother! tell dad to arrange for everything...but I'll be late for home today...'
Saying this she hurried across the crowded footpath selling books...
At a crossing nearby...
She had heard a familiar call:
'Hello! are you a deaf? calling you half the distance almost!'
She turned around...
To see him running towards her
With something that looked like a crude hand made envelope;
'What's this?'
She asked when he, huffing and out of breath,
Gave her the thing...
'Nothing...just some nonsensical idiotic gibberish!'
He yelled, unmindful of the peopled street and honking cars and hawkers...
Then he ran away...
She looked at him...running zig-zag...
Through the crowd...
Kept within a book...after twenty years almost!
A red one...hand made stuff...
She looked at the envelope...
And...
Remembered the day...
A wet wintry day it was...
Mid December but the sky was a bit cloudy...
'It would rain...probably'
He murmured, sitting by her side at the deserted canteen of the university...
A scrapbook was open before him as usual...
She ordered two samosas...
The hot samosas came soon with red tomato sauce...
Rakhal da was busy calculating something sitting on his high stool...
The day was wet, moist, unlike a December date...
She was looking around...
He was drawing a picture or something on a page of the scrapbook...
'You have got nothing to say na?'
She had finally asked him, breaking the silence...
Between them...in the lonely canteen...with empty tables barring theirs;
'What?'
He had muttered, busy drawing a pencil sketch on the paper...
'About us?'
She enquired, feeling despondent really...
'Hmmm...'
Was his brief iconic reply;
'You're an ass...'
She teethed her words, mincing almost...
Enraged within;
'Hole...add that up...'
He said and chuckled, still drawing something;
She felt like grabbing the scrapbook and throwing it away...
She felt like landing a fist of fury on his nonchalant face...
He...
Was still drawing...
'Okay...I'm going...here's the money for samosas...eat more if you want...'
Saying this she went away, hurriedly, out of the canteen...
Her mom called just then...
Out on the street she yelled over phone to her dearest mom:
'Yes! yes! I agree to marry that poker faced middleaged junk! don't bother! tell dad to arrange for everything...but I'll be late for home today...'
Saying this she hurried across the crowded footpath selling books...
At a crossing nearby...
She had heard a familiar call:
'Hello! are you a deaf? calling you half the distance almost!'
She turned around...
To see him running towards her
With something that looked like a crude hand made envelope;
'What's this?'
She asked when he, huffing and out of breath,
Gave her the thing...
'Nothing...just some nonsensical idiotic gibberish!'
He yelled, unmindful of the peopled street and honking cars and hawkers...
Then he ran away...
She looked at him...running zig-zag...
Through the crowd...
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