One Life, Two Strangers, Three Meets...

The root of that unusual friendship started on a rainy Friday when Sagar Srivastava stood on the footsteps of the office of the Principal eagerly waiting for permission to enter the busy room. Feeling that it might take him another half an hour to settle all his business at the college, he had restlessly taken a seat in an old bench nearby. At the other end of his bench sat a girl, seemingly five years younger than him. She had a file with her, and he supposed that she had come for some attestation.

He was wondered at her when the silent serious girl had impulsively raised her voice and asked, “Are you a first year student?” Sagar smiled and looking to him smiling again, spoke, “Passed out this year” He realized that her question was just formalty, just a token of manner, consideration. More important, she had given him strength to speak back.

Sagar asked, “Your name?”
“Zia; Zia Malhotra...and yours?”
“Sagar Srivastava”

The talk forwarded to his past college life and her expectations about the course and college she had just joined in. But everything they spoke hovered on lessons, exams and all “junk”. Somewhere in between he had asked about her favorite TV show and she had replied “Tom and Jerry” He was suddenly reminded of his late sister whom death and disease had separated. It was a sudden assumption of his that this girl, a complete stranger, minutes ago, was his own sister sitting beside him. Therefore he smiled when they finished the talk after half an hour, when it was time for them to leave...

***********

The state transport bus is more crowded and has crossed all permissible levels. Zia was pushed here and there and as a man stood up from his seat she grabbed it. She was least bothered that she was surrounded by foul smelling drunkards. At a cross turn, she was squashed on the man sitting beside her, who happened to be the same one whom she had met years ago in front of the principal’s cabin. He seemed older than his age suggested.
“Are you Sagar?”
He was open mouthed at the girl, suddenly reminding him of his last days at college. More coincidently, he was recounting the memories of his sister when this girl had appeared. This time too the talk did not exceed half an hour. They had talked, but only on office and job, and more than mere names they did not know anything about each other, as it was never felt as necessary.

***********

Mrs. Zia Malhotra, now Mrs. Zia George Mathew points at the board which reads ‘Solace’. To the old couple who sits disappointed and desperate in her office room, she makes an introduction.
“ My name is Zia George. My husband had been in Air force and died last year. My only daughter is married and is settled abroad. This institution is set as per my late husband’s wishes. This is a old age home, but you can demand all freedom as at home”

She leads them to a room and returns to her office where she removes the dust that had fallen on her late husband’s framed photograph with hand. A car halts in front of her house and two people got down from it- an old man, pale and skinny, and his son, strong and emotionless. The old man is left at the office at the sympathy of some strangers at the old age home and the son walks away without a word. Mrs. George makes a lot of inquisition on the man’s face and finally both of them realizes that they have been brought together by fate a third time in life.
Days later we see them sitting on a concrete slab in her garden- sitting closer to each other- as if being forced into closer acquaintance by fate. They have enough time for all told and untold chronicles of life, all pleasantries they had forgotten in those previous encounters, and there is no more hurry or noise this day and time too, more than half an hour. The right time has come for their friendship and there is no more separation. Not until death...

Mirage ends its journey....

As I was requested by my mother and friends I decide to suspend my blog here and wait till I have gained enough of maturity.
My mom had complained that I have gone too much immature and silly than she ever felt, she wants it be dismissed until she is sure that I have fully developed my brains!!!

I thank all my friends for their co-operation throughout the blog and is very sorry if something has hurt them.

Aparna