A Love Story- Aryan's Journey To Mumbai

>> Saturday, March 31, 2007


Chapter 1

The train was reaching the Nagpur station. On this sultry afternoon, people traveling in the train had only one solace, Communication. How much ever face to face conversation may go out of fashion, in a train travel, most asocial of a man starts having conversation. Aryan however, our hero, not the quietest person, is in no mood of conversation. He has that sweet countenance of guy in throes of love and who doesn't know what to do with it.


Aryan was being nostalgic. He was trying to remember Soumya that was, some 15 years ago when he was irritated by the puppy crush of a gal who was thin mousy and nerdy!! Being a butt of countless jokes, he avoided her like a plague. But years down the line, when he met her again, online, things changed.

During those lonesome nights, initially, when Prachi left, he hardly knew what to do with the time he had. Sleep was hard to come and every gesture reminded him of what he lost.. To run away from reality he had hit the online bandwagon of lifeless n lost souls. Every day was the same. The same stories only the faces change. Saga of hurt and betrayal and sorrow. However, he had struck gold. He met Soumya. Didn't know initially it was her. She didn't too.


He started liking coming online. A sensitive soul who sympathized with him, laughed and in general made him feel hopeful for the first time since Prachi left. And now he is no longer angry with Prachi. Aryan realized that Prachi was right. They never would have been ever happy for long. They were just too different. Like water and oil. He had been holding on to a dream. I guess it takes a perfect match to show what imperfection is...


Aryan was suddenly apprehensive. Here he was with is 7 years old daughter, which Prachi accepted to let go. Would Soumya understand his need to be with this child? Would she be as loving? Aryan was spinning dreams of how it would be..


'” Soumya, I love you”, Aryan said.

Soumya replied,” I know that idiot. I have waited so long for you. What took you so long to realize that I am yours?”.

“I have this child, she is important to me. Will you be able to love her?”

“You insult me ,Aryan. This child is yours. How can I not love her?”

Or sometimes he would think,

“I love you Soumya”

“I know. But I don't love you. We can only be friends.”

“Oh! Yes only friends. I am sorry Soumya”

“Don't be. I am flattered that you love me. But I am not the same gal from your college. I have changed so have you. I love someone else now”

“ Is there someway I can make you love me?”

“What about your kid? Am I supposed to live with the symbol of you ex-wife all my life???”

“Yes. You are right. There is no way. Can we be still friends?”

“I don't think so Aryan”

“Oh! So it is a good bye then”

“I am afraid yes”


A whistle boomed and woke Aryan up. Pinky was shaking him, “Daddy Daddy.....Are we in Mumbai??”

“Sweetheart not yet. We have a long way to travel”

“How much time daddy?”

“Ten hours to go”


At the age of seven, Pinky was a curious girl with lots of question. Aryan was proud of her. If anything went right in his world it was Pinky. Aryan wondered if she will like Soumya.

“ Daddy will we go to essel world?”, Pinky asked.

“ Any thing for you baby”.

“Daddy who is Sunita aunty??”

“She is wife of Akshay Uncle. You remember he had come for Diwali??”

“ Oh yes. Do they have kids?”

“Yes they do. But they are older”

“Okay”

And then Pinky slept off in his arms. He started dreaming again. This time about the past. Prachi when he first saw her. The very first smile, shy and hesitating. The first time she talked to him. And the last. How much difference. He wondered, not the first time if he could have done something to change it. But it was the first time there was no pain and he was sure what happened happened for the best.

He tried to remember something about Soumya from the past. Strangely he couldn't. All he could is dream about the future. The train finally reached Mumbai. Aryan picked his sleepy child and luggage and thought Soumya here I come.....


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