His Little Bride

Fire ||15||

Every time we clean something, something else gets dirty.

So we never actually clean the dirt, we just transfer it.

I looked at the cleaning cloth in my hand, which was now carrying the dirt of coffee table, in the living area.

I studied in school, matters can neither be created nor be destroyed. They just change from one form to another.

That means everything here, had once been converted to dirt.

This world is made up of dirt.

Dirty world.

Pardon my idiocy. But this explanation of the world being a dirty place, like it is, sounded satisfactory to me.

I scoffed at my own thoughts, walking towards the sink in the kitchen to wash the cloth and make the water dirty instead, when my phone buzzed. Walking back to the sofa where it was laying, I looked at the screen.

Unknown number.

Since the day my dad left, unknown numbers always make me feel a little anxious. Not because I am hoping for him to reach out to me. But because I never want to hear his voice ever again. Not even for a single second.

Picking up the phone, I pressed it to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Miraa! Its been so long, mann. How have you been?!" A chirpy, girly, excited voice, which sounded extremely familiar, spoke from the other side.

Who might that be?

I tried to think for some moments but then gave up.

"I am sorry. Who am I speaking with, again?" I asked unsure, trying to be polite.

I could guess that it was someone close to me, but I couldn't quite figure it out.

"Oh. OK. So now you don't recognize my voice. Great. After all the fun you, me and Amaya had in Tripathi sir's lectures, I don't know why I wasn't expecting that!" She said faking hurt.

And then it clicked me.

"Oh my God! Disha?!" I exclaimed.

"Yes, duffer" She said. Duffer. Our teacher, Tripathi Sir, used to use this word so much for us, and Disha always used to mimic him just like this.

I laughed at the memory.

We were all in college together. But Disha dropped out after first year and went to Paris, to pursue her dream to become a fashion designer. We stayed in touch for some time after then, but eventually, we lost the connect.

Hearing from her after all these years felt really good. Especially when I was in the state where I was losing everything from the past. My friends, my life, my plans... everything.

"I've heard that you're in Toronto?" She asked-told me after we made some small talks.

"Yes I am" I said.

"And I've also heard that you got married?"

"Yes I have, but where are you hearing all this from?"

She laughed audibly before answering, "I was talking to Saurabh one day. He told me."

Oh.

Saurabh Was also our classmate. He came to the wedding, too.

"And you know what? I am so angry with you! You didn't even invite me, Mira" She complained.

"How was I supposed to invite you? You changed your number. I didn't even know your address! And anyway, we kind of got married in a hurry" I told her.