The Youth Died

The first and last~

Like every other day, he signaled the child away who was trying to sell newspapers on the bus, as usual. With a low grunt, he mustered his way into the 'spot' from where he could gaze into the ladies section of the bus, without being too noticeable.

There she was, frozen in his sight, burnt in his memory. ' Why was she so different?' he questioned himself silently, while standing in the cramped bus and catching glimpses of his crush now and then. 'Crushing on so many, but you're different. No, not love, but I do look forward to seeing you everyday.' In the train of thought, he inched closer towards the window as it ruffled his hair with a welcomed breeze of dusky air. A few moments later he caught sight of some fabric, her dupatta, flailing in the air against the door of the bus, signaling the departure of the owner.

She was always with a friend, leaving together. Her jovial face, those smiley lips and her delicate head nodding to the chatty friend every once in a while. He never heard her say much. Her eyes though... they encased empathy in them and her pretty hands, yes quite pretty and lively...she used them a lot. Always wearing rings, gesturing here and there, setting her dupatta in place or flicking strands of hair away from her eyes. Yes she was worthy to 'crush' on. He chuckled and shut his eyes for a moment, counting his other crushes and wondering if he'll ever make a move.

The bus was about to move, but there was a clamor. Cars whizzing past and stopping abruptly, drivers raging at each other and a crowd gathered. Someone yelled profanity at the bus conductor who hurried back in the bus and it picked up pace. Some people tried to comprehend, some assumed, others feigned ignorance. But the guy with the romantic thoughts, was doing just that, fantasizing. And then, he realized in him a yearning, to know her name. 'Tomorrow' he mouthed the words, and grinned a bit. A little later, he hummed a song to himself as he got off at his stop.

While he was walking towards his home, he noticed the traffic jam, beggars holding newborns in the merciless summer heat of the East, hawkers trying to make a living in the middle of the day, trannies still ridiculed and confused about their lives as they begged, cars without number plates, bikes and rickshaws duking it out at the road rage frenzy. He stopped at a smoke corner and bought a pack of cigs. 'Slow death' he mumbled lighting it up, wondering if she belonged to a middle class family or lower class. He stood there for a while puffing smoke in and out mechanically, until he was woken from his stupor by the sound of ambulance siren. 'Time to head home', he murmured under his breath while rubbing the ciggy stub under his shoe's heel, agitated by the siren. And off he went to his home.

His family was watching news on dinner table. He hated it. He devoured his meal quickly and excused himself to his room. As soon as he was in his room, he picked the phone and posted lyrics of the song he was humming earlier, chatted with his e-buddies while researching for presentation material, then he played some video games until his body tired and passed out still fantasizing about the girl.

The next day he boarded the same bus as usual, on time. But where was she? Not only her but the chatty friend was also missing. He pouted a bit thinking about her absence and decided to busy himself with newspaper. He told the kid to keep the change and started skimming through the news. As usual he skipped the political news and read the sports section, then the city news section. 'Same old problems, different names.' he scoffed as he read through the resources and educational problems. There were some about robbery, police shootings and accidents, one near his home.

Curiosity took the better of him as he read that particular news;

"A young maiden of age 24 died while pushing another away, who was lucky and only suffered mental trauma as well as superficial wounds. In tears, the survivor had explained how it was her mistake that she didn't see the oncoming traffic and her friend who was mute from a (rare medical condition), pushed her out of harm and died in her place. As requested by her family, the girl's identity was kept anonymous."

The time mentioned and the bus stop quoted in the news froze the guy's thought process for a few minutes. He read the news over and over, until the bus reached station. The conductor told him to fuck off as all the passengers had left. He struggled to get out of the bus and sat at the station's waiting seat with a numbed mind for another hour. There was a knot in his chest as he breathed deeply and thought 'maybe he will cry, maybe?' but he ended up posting on his social media " Why is life so fragile?"

His phone had messages from friends, asking him why he missed uni today and if he's still coming to the party of the 'rich boys club'.

"Of-course I am." He replied and closed his eyes to ease the pain, mumbling to himself 'the youth died, but I live'.