Resurgence

Chapter 4

Now

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Shravan wonders if he should knock on the door.

The old Shravan wouldn't have hesitated for a second to barrel in. Now he isn't so sure, it's like he is anchored to the ground. He bangs his fist on the door only twice, swiftly hiding it behind his back in a desperate attempt to stop the unwanted tremors and waits with bated breath.

He digs his nails in the inside of his palm, counting on the the distraction the temporary pain has to offer, trying to convince himself that this isn't as big a mistake.

Five years is a long time to wonder and ponder over the possibilities of moments that are yet to happen, that are yet to be written into existence. That's the complexity of the human mind, we plan and plan and plan till our mind exhausts every option there is - from the clothes we wear to be in sync with the weather of the day to the timing of the alarm in the morning to catch the first train. We never relent to plan until we are left to deal with the harsh reality, because there's nothing quite like reality, nothing that could surpass it, nothing that could be its mirror.

His palms grow sweaty and his heart is a riot as the minutes tick by and there is no sign of living. Ignoring the twitch of disappointment in his stomach, he takes several steps back and holds on, torn between waiting and just letting go.

Still nothing, but he thinks he hears the rhythmic sound of footfalls gaining in volume, drawing closer to him. The door is yanked open, revealing her and he can feel the corners of his mouth lift up, transforming his face completely.

"Sorry, I —"

For a moment, he doesn't believe it's her. For a moment, he thinks he's just dreaming or that perhaps she's just a figment of his wild imagination, only prompted further by the adrenaline already clouding his brain. Whether it is her or not, he can't help but stare, trapped in his own spiralling daze that freezes him in place, wishing to just bask in this serendipitous moment a little bit longer before he's ripped from it entirely.

A sound, something between a squeak and a gasp escapes her lips and her feet stagger back as she takes a monumental step backwards, amplifying the distance between them.

They stare at each other for a long time and they are both breathless, chests heaving with labored breaths and their knuckles white. Dark brown meets brillant brown. Brilliant brown meets dark brown. And then the entire world freezes, the entire world.

"Sumo..." Her name comes out breathier than he expects. It has been so long since her name has fallen from his lips. His emotions are a confusing jumble in his chest, disbelief and absolute, immense happiness warring against his ribs.

Her eyes widen in a mixture of awe and and shock and her mouth parts, as if she can't believe what she is seeing, and he can't blame her when he has fallen prey to his mind's intricacies, more than once. Her eyes are glistening, now, though he can't make out if it's because of unshed tears or the way the light hits her.

Her throat feels dry all of sudden, drier than it's ever felt before. She takes a second to drink him in, the towering height, the unkempt hair he usually tried to tame in the presence of others, the kind gaze, his heartbreaking smile, how one side inched a little higher than the other.

Suman clasps her shaking hands together, not knowing what else to do with them, a stack of paper tucked under her arm. Something funny pulls at her heartstrings at the sight of him, something she hasn't quite identified yet. Seeing him here standing before her is like a dream and a nightmare.

"Suman!"

A voice calls from behind her effectively causing her to jump out of her skin and lose her footing and falling flat on her behind. The stack of papers under her arm fall to the ground and she braces herself on her knees at the same time as he hunkers down causing their foreheads to bump.