The Short Story. (twist in tale.)

The white ‘Gajra’.

She walked out of the room feeling unusually confident. The sun seemed to shine brighter than an hour back and the birds chirped louder than she would have liked.

Yet the feeling of a thousand butterflies in her stomach was not be ruined today.

She got her article published in the newsdaily. Her first ever article. 
She could shout, laugh, jump, dance all of it.. "but not before I tell Raj about this," was the first thought that entered her mind. Why was it that in spite of having so many relatives, friends and loved ones did she think of Raj first? 
Pondering over this question she went into flashback 16 days ago, 6.35pm, Saint Carlos street, where Raj said those exact same words to her. "I adore you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I know it’s too late to approach you with such a proposal but…"
Reminiscing those thoughts, she traveled back again in the present. She made her way to the Lal Parol Park, and sat down on the nearest bench. She closed her eyes. Again a distant memory whizzed past her mind.

4 months and 3 days ago, 6.30pm inside a a restaurant-

"It’s too late, I will drop you home," Offered Raj.
"It’s okay I will go," replied Simran.
"Please, let me. You came for me over here. I consider you as my responsibility."

Simran traveled back in the present and smiled, recalling that as a distinguished, sweet memory. She looked at the watch on her wrist, smiled recollecting  a memory, and still went back into another flashback…

6 months and 10 days ago, 10am, outside a railway station-
Simran stood on platform number 7, waving her hand to someone seated inside the train. As the train departed, Simran chanced to look sideways. Just as she did that, she saw a man in a sweatshirt standing right in front of her. That was when she knew that she had confronted a familiar face.

He seemed to have the same thoughts going on in his mind as he approached her.

“Raj?” she called out his name softly.

“Simran, I am seeing you after so long. How are you?” 

“I am good. But what are you doing here, in this secluded hill station?

“Haha! I shifted over here, but there’s a long story behind it.  By the way, are you going to stay over here for some time?”

“Yes, permanently.”

“Oh, then I suppose I will tell that long story to you some time later. We have loads of time now,” saying that Raj smiled brightly.

 And that was how it all started, assumed Simran. 

She finally texted Raj, informing him about her recent accomplishment. Having done that, she stood up and left the park.

While walking towards home, she passed a by-lane. It was an almost secluded area having little huts built all over it.  In one of those huts, few kids were dancing to the beat of the popular “O Radha teri chunari. “ Something urged Simran to stop. Something urged her to hum to the tune of that song. Something urged her to MOVE to the beat of it.

And she danced a little. As she danced, she felt eyes of someone on her. Conscious, as if broken out of a spell, she turned to catch the kids observing her intently.  As she stopped dancing, the kids started clapping as a response. Embarrassed, she blushed and embraced the kiddishness alive in her even then. She again started walking and chanced to look upon a female vendor selling gajras (flower garland). Her gaze kept on lingering on them for long, and she smiled wistfully.

Just then someone in the distance called out to her. She turned and froze. It was Raj.

“Congratulations on your first article. You finally wrote one. I hope there are many more to come,” said Raj.

“I just sent you a text. How did you possibly track my location from that?” laughed Simran.

“haha, I guessed that you must have gone to the park.”

“You followed me all the way from there?”

“Oh no. I am caught,” grinned Raj.

“Hahaha, oh wait does that mean you...”

“Yes, I did. That reminds me to give you a compliment. Even today you dance really well Simran!”

Simran blushed abashedly at that little show of love.

“You know it seems funny that your dance reminded me of our college days. You used to move gracefully even back then!”  said Raj.

“Hmmm,” She smiled.

“I want to spend my entire life seeing you smile like that.”

“Its too late Raj. ”said Simran with a tint of sadness in her voice.

“We met in our college days. We fell in love. But we couldn’t get married because your dad was against it. Agreed you got married to a nice guy of your parent’s choice. You had your kids. But he’s no more now. Even you are going through the same storm that I am going through, although I never got married. 16 days ago we met at the Saint Carlos street, I approached you with the same proposal. I agreed even back then that it’s too late. Yes I agree that it’s too late considering the time. But love always finds a way. It’s never too late for love. Why else would we bump into each other after all these years? Because we are meant to be.”

Saying so, he went to the female vendor and bought a gajra. He offered the same to Simran.

“I know you had bidden farewell to colours a long back ago. Allow me to add those to your life once again, “having done said that, a hopeful Raj waited for a response from Simran.

After a brief pause, Simran said, “yes, I accept this little present of yours. But don’t you think this white gajra will be camouflaged by my white hair?” teased Simran.

“hahaha! You are like the gajra. White and beautiful.”

“hahaha! Well, I don’t think marrying at the age of 60, is that bad an idea, eh?” responded Simran, and they both laughed, sporting those smiles hidden behind those wrinkles all these years.

Because sometimes, love is what only matters, no matter what the age and time.

                                                      

                                                                       -The End-