The Girl With the Red Scarf | ✔️ [DriKshit]

The Suitcase Swap

RAKSHIT'S POV

The placard held between the driver's fingers was painted a bright blue, the words 'Mr. Rakshit Shergill' written upon it in bold letters.
The driver introduced himself as Mayank Tewari, an Indian citizen, now a resident of Bali. Mayank had a slight accent to his Hindi but he claimed to read, write, speak and understand Hindi absolutely perfectly.

By the time I reached the large black car, accompanied by Mayank, Rashi and Sikhar had joined me. Mayank loaded our suitcases and Sikhar's kitbag in the trunk of the car and told us to make ourselves comfortable whilst he went to get 'a quick smoke'.

Sikhar sat in the front seat, beside Mayank and I sat alongside Rashi in the back passenger seat.
Rashi took out her phone and started texting.

Sikhar - It's funny how many Indian people we have found here! It looks less like Indonesia and more like India.

He chuckled. Rashi looked up from her phone.

Rashi - Even I met two Indian girls at the washroom.

Sikhar - Yeah? And? Made friends with them? Bhai, you will get busy with Lavanya. And Rashi is a total bore. I would appreciate company, especially two hot young girls.

Sikhar winked. Rashi frowned.

Rashi - Actually I didn't approach them. They looked like they were in a bit of a trouble. Two sisters. I assume it was the elder one who locked herself up in one of the bathroom cubicles and the younger one came to find her. From what I heard from the adjacent cubicle, it seemed like the elder one's boyfriend had just ditched her. She was crying and all...

Rashi trailed off. Sikhar remained silent.

So, that was it. That is why the girl had looked so dishevelled as she had slammed into me...

I looked out of the car window.
Mayank was not back yet. God knows how long it will take him to get the damn quick smoke.
It was almost three on my wrist watch. By the time we reach the hotel, it will be past four.

Rashi - So, this place we are staying at, is this any good?

Sikhar turned enthusiastucally.

Sikhar - Actually Rashi, you will love it. The place is named 'The Taj Palace', but it is nothing like a palace.
It is a bunch of cottages amidst greenery. The cottages are there to give you the Indonesian feel. They are decorated accordingly to give visitors an elaborate idea about the culture of...

Sikhar continued his description of the place, but I wasn't listening - not anymore.

My eyes trailed outside the window, where I had just spotted the girl with the red scarf, at the front of the exit gate of the airport.

She looked worse than before. Her hair was all messed up and her cheeks had tear stains. She was supported by the girl who had followed her earlier - her sister maybe.
This time, there was a young man with them, his phone pressed to his ears. Maybe another sibling, I guessed by the similarity in their facial features.

The girl was standing like a statue, there was no movement and her sister was continuously telling her something - something that looked like consolation. But what caught my eye was the girl's red scarf, it was fluttering in the air vibrantly, as if it knew, whatever was happening was for the right cause.

It was half past four when we finally reached 'The Taj Palace'. The manager, Mr. Sinha came to greet us. He was a short man with a protruding belly and squinting eyes, his hair thinning in a circular motion on top of his head. After finishing the formalities and getting handed a tour guide catalogue each, we proceeded towards our cottage.

The cottages have been painted meticulously with gray to give it the feel of stone. The interior, however, was cozy and oversfuffed and a contradiction to the simple walls outside.

Sikhar dropped his bag at the foot of the large bed and flopped down on it. There was another small cot for Rashi at the other side of the room. She opened her suitcase and pulled out her clothes, heading towards the bathroom at one corner of the cottage.

Sikhar laid down on the bed completely and closed his eyes, breathing deeply.

I pulled out our navy blue suitcase and  opened it to get my clothes, but -

My hands roamed around among clothes that looked like - a girl's.

Me - Sikhar? Where are our clothes? This isn't our suitcase.

Sikhar - Bhai? What are you saying? That is our suitcase, navy blue, yellow tag and all.

I flipped the front cover of the suitcase - the yellow tag was intact, except, on the tag was written, in very small letters, 'DS'.

Me - Rashi? Did our yellow tag on the suitcase have any initials?

Rashi called from the bathroom.

Rashi - No bhai! No initials! Just a plain yellow tag.

Sikhar - What's wrong Rakshit bhai?

He got up and checked the situation, then bit his lip.

Sikhar - Looks like this is the wrong suitcase. I have brought someone else's suitcase by mistake.

He bit his lip.

I was devastated. How can this happen?

Me - Now what?

Sikhar - I will call the airport authority and see if someone has reported for a misplaced bag. But - there is no network here. Damn this cottage nuisance.

He slammed his phone on the bed.

I pulled out my phone and went near the window, the smallest bar appeared on the top of my phone where the network was displayed. I was about to call the airport when -

The window of the next cottage was clearly visible from ours and next to it, stood that girl from the airport.
No, not the girl with the red scarf, but her sister. She was talking loudly into her phone.

~ 'Yes! Yes, our bag was misplaced. We have got a navy blue suitcase with a plain yellow tag, yes, if someone calls, please inform me, yes, yes, thank you!'

I took a deep breath and called to her.

~ 'Excuse me!'

She turned.

~ 'Did your suitcase have a yellow tag with the initials 'DS' on it?'

The girl practically beamed with joy.

~ 'Yes! And navy blue suitcase - plain tag?'

~ 'That will be our suitcase.'

~ 'Great. By the way, I am Divya. I here with my sister Drishti and my brother Romi. Nice to meet you. Indian?'

~ 'Yes! I am Rakshit. Nice to meet you Divya. I am here with my brother Sikhar and sister Rashi. Wait, I will send him to get our bag and give yours.'

I smiled cordially. She drew the curtains on her window.

I sent Sikhar to the next cottage with their suitcase, wondering if I would get another glance of the girl with the red scarf - Drishti.

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Hey everyone! Hope you are doing fine and enjoyed reading this part! I am new to this community and thus, any feedback would be immensely appreciated. Suggestions and constructive criticism will be welcomed!

Also, if you are reading this, do let me know in the comments below how you think #drikshit will meet!

P. S. - Some huge revealations coming in the next part! Stay tuned!

With love and gratitude,
Roop