Flung through Time

1.The Fall

All was silent before the dark overshadowed sky lit in a flash of thunder. Cold droplet trickled in, softly touching my warm arm. It had been a hot and humid day and the rain was a refreshing welcome. Pushing aside my copy of  "India's struggle through Independence", I turned my attention to the blank wattpad page. My mind trying to come up with different ideas to write the next chapter but my heart settling for none, it was a futile tug-o-war and I had with a lot of hope turned to my ever faithful book for consultation. Don't ask me why I loved writing about India before independence for I could not answer you. It was just.. something about the passion the youth had in those days which was sorely missing in our generation, something about the old-school charm which encircled the Indian woman-be it a normal woman in a Sari or a princess in her Horse-riding Gear, something about their elegance or perhaps their architecture. Yes, it was hard for me decide what drew me to the particular theme. Perhaps it was the question 'if I would have been born in the era then what kind of woman would I be?' A question which will forever go unanswered.

 Sighing, I turned my attention to the screen and was about to type, when the ringing of my phone distracted me.

"Yes, Dev?" I said picking up the call.

"Hello to you too, Shruti."

"What is it,man?" I snapped impatiently, now anxious to write when ideas somersaulted about in my head.

"I called to remind you that we have to go to examine a spot just outside of Allahabad..."

"I remember that. Thank you for you concern."

He coughed awkwardly, "Well, yes and then I was wondering if we could go to Company bagh. It is a nice little spot, just you and me.."He would have continued had I not interrupted him in my excitement.

"Oh my God, yes!"

"Really?" He questioned dubiously.

"Yes, in fact I am dying to go there. Do you know that it is the spot where Chandra Shekhar Azad shot himself? He vowed that the police will never catch him and so after a brave fight when he had only one bullet left, he shot himself instead of surrendering. Such were our freedom fighters! I doubt such nationalists still exist. What do you think?" I awaited his input of ideas.

"Well.." He cleared his throat.

"yes?"

"I don't think that you really get what I mean..." He trailed off awkwardly.

" We are going to the Company Bagh tomorrow, right?"

"Yes."

"So, what did I not get?"

"Nothing. I am sure you were writing our story, just go back to it. Bye."

The line was cut. A static noise filled the air.

Dev and I had been colleagues since the last 2 years. On the first day of our job,we had  connected almost instantly and soon enough were best of friends. However sometimes he did not make much sense to me, like right now.

Sighing in the cool breeze I looked at the screen of my Lappy. The cursor blinked and a sentence on the blank page stared at me accusingly.

Type your text.

The wind picked up and the curtains blew gently.

I went to stand next to the glass wall. The world looked alluringly pretty from the 20th floor of a hotel, the very same up-scale hotel which my company had booked for me. It was strategically well placed in the middle of the city of Allahabad. The streets were narrow, traffic less and the night lights.. dazzling. Out in the distance I could see the Company bagh, the plethora of colorful lights criss crossing through a wide screen of trees. The place was, no doubt, alluring.  And then I imagined what the place would have looked like a little less than a century ago. Without those shinning lights, enveloped in the denser cover of trees as Azad would have ran through the small winding earthen paths, the sun would have just gone down, sky taking a shade of pink as he would lower the pistol to his own forehead.

I blinked as I looked at the rainbow of lights in front of me.

The Laptop still sat on the coffee table where I had left it.

In a moment of nothingness, I wrote what actually went through my mind.

I wish that I were in 1931.

Plugging in the laptop for charging, I threw myself on the bed. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day. I had to map a whole area and making a mental note to carry a cap in case it become sunny again, I surrendered to my lalaland.

And unknown to the sleeping girl, the wind picked up. The laptop screen which she had so carelessly left open shined a strange shade of blue and a silent earthquake seemed to shake her room as the world outside stood still.

However it was only in the morning when the room service entered her room, did they realize that something had gone very wrong. The room was a mess and though the Cleaner might confess that Shruti was a naturally messy person yet this was a whole knew level of messiness. The contents on the table were broken, the sofa was tossed to one side, clothes were thrown around the room like a hurricane has just wrecked havoc there. And the laptop... oh the laptop was still innocently plugged in  but a huge chunk of its screen was missing. To make the matter worse, Madam Shruti was no where to be found. The police was hastily called and a case of kidnapping was registered.

Dev was one of those waiting in the hotel lobby,anxious to talk to the Police. His eyes were blood-shot red as though he had been crying. His mind reprimanded him for letting her stay in another hotel, where was she, he knew not and after a moment of wistfulness he looked at his mobile, hoping that she might contact him one way or the other.

PING!

The notification sounded.

shrutstwilightphilic has updated Flung through time.

His heartbeat accelerated, with sweaty hands he clicked at the new chapter and only two sentences met his gaze.

" I wish that I were in 1931.

Wish Granted."

"What the?!" He swore into the stale air.

Where was she?!