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"What are you doing here?" he asks me, his eyes raking over my drenched body and widening. Instantly, he opens the door further, allowing me to slip inside and grab a towel from somewhere, handing it to me.
My sobs may have taken a backseat f...
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The rain pelts down on my skin, hitting me but I don’t feel the pain as I walk onto the main road.
The fresh air hits me in the face and all I feel is relief.
I’m drenched, head to toe. My green saree sticks to my skin, the baby hair I try so hard to keep out of the face falls against my cheeks.
My feet carry me where they can and I lose track of time. I don’t know for how long I walk or where I’m going until I come to stand at a bus-stand and just. . . . breathe.
I look around at the bustling streets. Cars and autorickshaws drive past, couples walking hand-in-hand as they laugh, friends who’ve come out to get late-night ice-creams; I see them all. And I also feel the despair etched on my face.
I’m relieved that I’m finally out of that house but it doesn’t make me happy. I don’t have anywhere else to go. Neil smashed my phone and I have no money.
Robotically, I stand up, my vision transfixed on something on the other side of the road. It’s a little wooden house. And it’s beautiful. It’s in the shape of a home, and it may have been worn out with a “For Sale” sign in the front, I wonder why people aren’t making good use of it.
This is a commercial street. In the past fifteen minutes that I’ve been sitting here, there hasn’t been a moment when these streets have been empty.
I let myself imagine I’m the owner of this place. I could transform this into a cafe. I’d put up fairy lights over the entire structure to enlighten it. Vintage furnitures and a gramophone would encompass the inside, creating a cozy vibe. I’d freshly brew the coffee by hand, its scent so warm and homely, it’d attract so many people.
I’d learn to bake so I can make cookies, cakes, breads and donuts. My cafe would be a place where people came to hang out and relax. A sort of heaven amidst the chaos of life and liveliho—
A flash beam blinks above my head from my side and I look. But then, a horn blares, startling me. I blink, breaking out of my reverie and realise I’ve walked into the street.
The driver accelerates past me, screaming obscenities and my mind whirs. My hands start to tremble, the reality setting in.
I’m cold. Homeless. Shivering. And— and my brother— Veer, he’s— he’s—
FUCK.
I run. I run past the rain, past the traffic signals, past the people who give me weird looks. Tears stream down my face but I refuse to wipe them away. They mix in with the rain, my heart screaming with agony.
And still, I don’t stop.
I run until I can’t breathe and I’m panting, my mind empty but my heart away.
The water washes down my eyes and I flutter my lashes. I register the surroundings as my feet slow to a jog.
The area is familiar. Heaps of trees line the sides of the road and little, cute houses reside between two trees.
