Baggage's heavy, you know not!

I glanced at my wardrobe a several times. I fended for the yellow salwar-kameez, then the green saari but finally decided to wear the pink saari, yet again, thinking of you.

Not a single day had passed, without me being astray, absorbed, brooding about you. You always dominated my thoughts, then and even now.

Vikrant likes me wearing pink, my wardrobe becomes full of pink hues. Vikrant loves coffee, my kitchen smells of coffee, early mornings and evenings, I pour out all the tea leaves down the drain.

Vikrant doesn't like me tieing my hair, I dispose all my hair srunchies and leave those long tresses open, even if weather's torrid or muggy.

''Stop living in the past, Soumya, before it gets more painful'', my friend had warned me a hundred times. But this ache now, had grown into a sweet pain that eventually felt comforting to me. I knew it wasn't the right thing to do but my heart insisted on doing the wrong thing, over and over again. 

I dressed up to leave. I couldn't get the flight tickets as the venue for Poets' Meet was changed at the eleventh hour. Train journey, though a long one, I had opted for it, so that, on the way, I could write some fresh poetry for the Meet.

''The weather's cloudy today, looks like it's going to rain heavily', said the cab driver.

I looked out of the window, ''Rains in November, looks like lovers are keen to meet!", I murmured to myself.

I reached the Railway station, dragging my trolley bag with one hand and holding onto my handbag on my shoulder, with other.

I settled down on the bench at the platform and it started raining cats and dogs. It was almost time for my train, but I heard the announcement, ''The train is running late''.

I went to inquiry point and they said today all trains were running late, due to heavy rains across towns. They suggested I should wait at the lounge.

I bought a coffee from the stall and I dragged my trolley to the lounge, carefully, in order to not spoil my pink saree. I searched for a quiet corner to sit. I kept my bag down and with the thudd sound, he lifted his head from the newspaper.

I tucked my hair away from my eyes, behind my ears and gasped. It was almost, after 3 years, that I saw him.

''Vikrant'', my heart pounded, a feeling of strong pulse ran through my chest.

He was surprised too. He smiled and said, ''Hi Soumya!, What a pleasant surprise!''.

"Was it really? A pleasant one?", my soliloquy. I was, as if frozen, from this unanticipated encounter. 

''How have you been?'', his question pierced my heart. How could he act so normal? After that harsh break up...after all that accusing and arguing, How is he so calm? I couldn't fathom.

"Am I happy right now? To meet him again....to see him, to talk to him.....", he snapped his fingers and interrupted my cogitation.

"What should I say? I am fine? Doing good?", I was thinking what words to choose and they slipped away,  "I am doing great!".

It was the most awkward greeting for me, yet he seemed calm. He began the conversation as if nothing had happened between us. As if we were good friends meeting after a long time.

He told me that he's doing great in his corporate job. 

"Soumya, I finally got the one I had dreamed of", he said with a broad smile.

I had to fake a smile too. "Happy for you", however, I couldn't utter such fabricated words.

"I'm happily married Soumya", he seemed to be bragging more now. 

I just stared at him not sure how to express but then had no option but to smile again and say those fake words, "Congratulations".

"Thankyou. Also I've a 5 month young baby. My wife is an English professor in the University", he didn't stop the show off.

I nodded slightly. How much more applause was expected from me for all this unwanted information?

And when he added that pink still looks good on me, I hated the fact, that I decided to wear pink, today. 

He smilingly commented on my open tresses. And looking at the coffee cup, was glad that I still loved coffee. "Why did I choose to do all his favourite things today?", I cursed myself. My soul was hurting yet I had to maintain my composure today.

"You are a well known name in the poetry circle, Soumya. I have read few of your publications. I always knew you would excel in this field", he said.

"Thankyou", I replied sounding polite. 

"Huh! You knew all that, but what you don't know is...it was like a nightmare, my life without you. I yearned for you every day every second, I cried, I yelled, I collapsed. It was very difficult for me to get up and fend for myself. You don't Vikrant, you don't know all that", it was just my monologue. I couldn't say it aloud.

There was an announcement that Vikrant's train was arriving at the platform number 1. He left, with his luggage, just like he did years ago, bidding a goodbye. And I sat there, yet again, with my heavy baggage.

                                   

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