Genre: Fiction
“…but I just moved here, maa” I said the third time. I have moved to the pink city recently with dozens of books and few utensils, to be precise. I am the youngest of three siblings. People often take me as unpretentious and loud, maybe because my dreams are boisterous and I didn’t bother much with labels in relationships.
Red is my favorite color. It makes me visible and there is something in this color that just fills me with confidence. It was a tough decision to move to a new city leaving behind a well-settled career. Although, I had been planning this move for the last five years and was also saving mindfully for it. At the height of my career, this move was risky but I was ready to risk it all just for that one letter.
Five Years ago
A letter was delivered to the wrong address. When Meera returned home from the office, musky, her dog was trying to chew on a piece of paper. She gently removed it from his mouth and tried reading the details of the sender. Unfortunately, there were none. All it said in the envelope of the letter was, “Hopelessly in love with pink city…I wish”. She rang a few numbers and spoke to the security guards and neighbors but to no avail. After a couple of months when no one came to claim the letter, one evening she decided to open it.
Monday, Pink City, Evening 5:30
Today, I have taken that step that I had been contemplating since forever. My love for books, ginger tea that feels like a warm hug, the adrenaline rush to explore a new city, and the uncertainty of the future, all have come under one roof.
My mother knows her daughter a bit too well, she knows how awkward I am when it comes to meeting with new people. She suggested saying hi to the neighbors and kept telling me the importance of “having good neighbors”. Well, I know how persistent maa could be so I agreed to greet my neighbors after finishing the tea.
After the phone call, I went on to listen to some music. My mood preferred the songs of R D Burman that day. “Raina beeti Jaaye from Amer prem” was playing when I heard a knock, I looked through the peephole of the door and no one was there. I thought I must have misheard it and went back to put the books on the shelf. That’s when I heard the knock again. I reduced the volume of the song paid attention to the knock and realized it was coming from the second bedroom. To be honest, I got scared for a second.
The sound was coming from the bedroom window. When I looked out of the bedroom window and our eyes met, I froze. How is this even possible? There stood a middle-aged woman with the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen. It’s her, she is the one I came to the city for and thought I would never find her. What are the chances? Is it a coincidence? Vanya, the woman who was addressed in the letter was standing in front of my eyes. Her hazel eyes were exactly as it was explained in the letter. I couldn’t say a word and kept staring, Vanya smiled and said “Hi, I am Vanya, It’s the magic of R D Burman that is bringing even this anti-social generation together too. I love his music, could you please increase the volume”
To be continued…
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Oooh! Such a good buildup. I want to know more about Vanya now