Last Stop: Love

1. Not your typical wanderlust girl.

Meetha wanted to die.

She was planning to die that day as she did not want to live a life sans purpose. All her life she believed that her destiny was to marry Ajith and live a white-pickett-fence life with him. But that dream seemed stupid now, as it was mere minutes ago that she discovered her childhood sweetheart having an affair with his colleague.

"It is always you, baby," she heard him say. "I have never cared about anyone else."

A wry smile escaped her lips as she remembered being the recipient of those exact same lines some three years ago. Now there's a redhead in her place. Life was being really harsh on her nowadays.

She never believed her best friends telling her that Ajith isn't who she thinks he is. She blissfully ignored them during college, and when it became serious, she simply cut ties with them. Now she wanted to slap herself. No, now she wanted to die. She wanted to die in a way like she wanted to live. Quiet and content.

She didn't like messy things. She didn't like a messy death.

She didn't have any friends other than Ajith, thanks to her love-dazed pigeon brain. Their parents were good friends, and so were they. When did it blossom into something more, she didn't know. It was those sparkling eyes that stole her heart. She fell first, and hard.

Her parents were in the States with her brother. Mithun is their golden boy, although they wouldn't admit it to her. They claimed they loved their two children equally, but it was Mithun whose photos jaded the walls of the house. Mithun was a medical graduate currently pursuing his Masters in San Jose. Mom and dad had followed Mithun within a span of a month when he complained that he missed mom's food.

She too loved Mithun dearly and wanted him to succeed. So she moved to a dorm and asked her parents to go take care of him. They were reluctant at first, but deemed Meetha to be self-sufficient and independent, and left her on her own to be united with their son. Her quiet smile hides all her emotions, and people believed she was ok, always.

"Meethu, you are a sweetheart! Thanks for this yaar. I promise you, I'll send them back soon." Mithun had said. It had already been two years.

She didn't mind it, as she had her Ajith. The smooth-talking, cool-looking lover-boy next door. She moved to the dorm but returned every weekend to be with him. He would come over after midnight, even though she'd have told him to come before dinner. There wasn't much talking involved, and quiet-loving Meetha didn't mind at all.

Ajith worked as a designer for a prominent ad film company. Meetha pursued her dream of being a microbiologist. She was in her final semester of post-graduation, when she wanted to surprise Ajith by visiting his firm. She failed to realise it was a bad idea even though hundreds of movies she'd seen had told her so. She saw Ajith sitting with a woman. At first she assumed her a client, but people don't hold their clients' hands, do they?

And then those words. Oh those sweet sweet words she thought was only for herself, now being strewn to strays alike. At first she was angry. She wanted to go to him and shout at him the dirtiest cuss words. But a moment of reflection later she left quietly, without even a trace of her presence. She wanted to cry, but all she could do was laugh at her own stupidity. She laughed to the point where she was hyperventilating.

And then she wanted to kill herself. The thought occurred to her like a spark. She deemed it the perfect solution. Nobody has to worry about her; and she wouldn't have to worry about anyone. She would go to a place so far away, and leave without a trail.

She wanted her final moments to be peaceful. She went to her lab one last time, bid goodbye to all those cultures she had been growing, bid goodbye to her countdown calendar marking her graduation, and bid goodbye to her trusty microscope, Daya. She named it after the apprentice of her favourite detective Pradyuman. In her academia, she was the detective and the microscope was her loyal steed. Together they dreamed of solving so many curious cases. They wanted to save the world. When she finally left the lab, her eyes were surprisingly moist.

"Dear Daya.. you be good ok?" she murmured at the equipment's silhouette through the window.

She had bought a train ticket to Hyderabad that night. Why Hyderabad, she has no answer. It was the earliest train leaving her city. Hyderabad was its last stop. It only seemed logical. When her fellow passengers rushed to board the train with innumerable bags and baggages, she walked in empty handed. Her purse was in her hand, as she wasn't sure about leaving it on the platform.

"Beta, can you help me with this bag?" An aged man on her way asked her. She smiled and helped him lift the suitcase onto the train.

"Ayushman bhava," he blessed. Long live.

She stifled a sarcastic laugh and gave him a customary bow, walking away. When she found her seat number, another old couple approached her.

"Amma, my husband and I are seated apart. Can you exchange seats with us?"

She obliged and shifted. Her new seat was a single-seat on the side, commonly called the side berth. The seat opposite to her was empty for then. She waited to see if someone would turn up. When nobody claimed that seat until the train left the station, Meetha felt an irrational speck of joy. It's been ages since she travelled alone, that too by train. And getting such peaceful travel moments was a rarity in the urban backdrop.

Meetha stretched her legs and thought about how she was going to die.

***