Short Story: Rainy Sunday Afternoon
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| Image Courtesy: Google Images |
Friendship is like a river: it
flows around rocks, adapts itself to valleys and mountains, occasionally turns
into a pool until the hollow in the ground is full and it can continue on its
way.
- Paulo Coelho, Manuscript Found in Accra
Rainy Sunday Afternoon
The music player was
going on in full blast. Megha sat at her computer, trying to find the perfect
words to describe her boredom.
“Do you really think
sulking in your room, listening to Lemon Tree for the hundredth time will cure
you of your writer’s block?” her younger sister, Ananya asked her sister. She was
lying down on her bed, staring up at the ceiling.
“For my next birthday,”
said Megha, irritably, “I want my own room.”
“You and I both, sis,”
laughed Ananya, turning her head slightly to look at her sister sitting at the
computer. So far Megha had only played Lemon Tree by Foolsgarden on loop and
not typed a single word. “You’re pressurizing yourself too much. I know the
deadline is tonight. But you just can’t sit at the computer and expect words to
type themselves out magically to form a story.”
“Watch me!” snarled
Megha.
“I have been,” replied
her Smart Alec sister, “For the past two hours. Why else do you think I’m
hanging out in our room?”
“Because it’s raining
cats and dogs outside?” snapped Megha. She wondered how she was supposed to
write, when she was stuck sharing a room with a brat of a sister.
“Nah. I just wanted to
witness the genius at work.”
“Well, aren’t you a
jenny ass?”
Ananya frowned, “You don’t
need to call me names.”
“I need to get out of
this house,” her sister said, abandoning her post at the computer.
“In this weather?” her
sister shrieked.
“Yes, in this weather. I
happen to love the rain.”
“Speak for yourself.”
Ananya made no effort
to stop her crazy sister from going out in the horrible weather. She knew by
now, her sister would do whatever she wanted anyway. She waited for Megha to
leave the room. When she was sure she was alone in, she jumped to the computer
and began to snoop through her sister’s files.
“Where does she keep
her secret journal?” she muttered to herself, “Or even that private blog of
hers?”
*
Megha was perfectly
aware that she’d forgotten to lock her computer. She knew all too well her
sister would be snooping through her stuff. But she couldn’t muster the energy
to go back, shout at Ananya and lock her computer. She was too frustrated with
her writer’s block. The fact that the deadline to submit a story to her college’s
magazine was that night did not help at all. There was only one place in the
world which would throw some inspiration on her.
“Elgin Road,” she told
her cab driver as she got in.
There was huge book
shop there. She was sure she would find even a spark of imagination, if she
just spent some time among the smell of new books.
*
Just as she had
suspected there were hardly any customers in the bookshop. Most of them were
victims of the rain and were waiting it out in the café. She did not find a
single, genuine book lover in the shop. She turned away from the irate people,
and spotted a book she’d been looking for, for around six months now.
“Yes! They finally have
the signed copy of Tales of Beedle the Bard!” she exclaimed, reaching for the book. At the same
time, someone else also had grabbed the book.
“Hey!” she cried, “I saw
the book first.”
“Well, I was going to
take it first!” her book snatcher protested.
She looked at him. Because
well, he was a lot taller than she was. She couldn’t guess his age and she knew
she would not be able to ask him. Not when both of them were fighting over a
book. Neither of them was willing to let go off the book. An attendant rushed
to their side.
“Sir, ma’am,” he said,
looking from one to another, “I’m sure we have more copies of that book. Why don’t
let go off the book?”
“Fine,” they said in
unison, “You let go!”
He suddenly grinned at
her, “Why don’t you keep it, kid? You obviously want to buy the book with your
tooth fairy money.”
“No, why don’t you keep
it?” she said, spitefully, “But make sure to get yourself a dictionary to look
up the big words.”
“Rowling doesn’t use big
words,” the guy said, crossly, “Or do you not know that!”
“I know more about Rowling than you do,” snapped Megha.
“Oh really?” the guy
seemed to be rather enjoying his unexpected spat with Megha. But suddenly she
felt drained and tired.
She let go off the book
suddenly and shrugged, “I’ve had a long day. I cannot stand in a bookstore
arguing with a guy whose name I don’t even know.”
Feeling more down in
the dumps than ever, she made her way to window and sat down at one of the
seats.
“Oh no, don’t feel sad.
I was just joking,” the guy grinned. He’d followed her over to the seat, “You
can take the book if you want.”
“Thanks, but I really
would like to be alone right now,” she said pointedly.
“That’s nonsense,” he
laughed, good- naturedly, “no one ever wants to be alone. If you claim to like
being alone - that’s the first biggest lie you can ever tell yourself.”
“What’s the second one?”
“I don’t like chocolate,”
he replied without batting an eyelid.
“Why don’t you sit
down?” offered Megha, “I’m Megha, by the way.”
“And I’m Abhik,” he
introduced himself, “Why are you in a bookstore in such a rainy afternoon?”
“Because I wanted to
buy a book,” Megha replied, rolling her eyes, “Why else would you come to a
bookstore?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Think,
maybe. Browse through books – waiting for that one idea to come to your mind. Just
take a break from reality.”
“In the land of books?”
asked the girl, brightening up, “I thought one else thought of bookstores as a
magical land where everything falls into place again!”
“You’d be surprised,”
Abhik laughed, “There’s a really nice café upstairs. Do you want to go have
coffee and discuss more books?”
“That sounds more like
my kind of a rainy Sunday afternoon,” laughed Megha, getting up from her place,
“And all this time I thought you were seeking refuge from the rain.”
“Hey, bookstores are a
great place to make new friends,” he laughed. He looked around at the sundry
people who were irritably waiting for the rain to stop, “But you need to
realize who are really here for the books.”
“Agreed!”
*
Megha went home
bursting with new ideas for her new piece of fiction. When she went home, she
found Ananya lying on her bed, reading Harry
Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban for the thousandth time.
“Hey, you were gone a
long time,” her sister said, “Did your writer’s block go away?”
“Oh yes!” said Megha,
happily. She sat down at her computer and found to her surprise that she was
logged in to her Facebook profile.
“Some guy called Abhik
Banerjee sent you a friend request a few minutes ago. He was cute so I accepted
it for you.”
“Is that why you make
friends?” Megha asked her, shaking her head, “How cute the guy is?”
“Well, you had no
mutual friends. So yes, that’s the parameter I have.” Ananya said, pretty
pleased with herself.
Megha turned her
attention back to her blog. There was a new comment from Abhik in the About the
Author section.
‘Good luck with your
writing. Can’t wait to see the story you come up with!’
She looked over her
shoulder at her sister, “Sometimes you need to see the person beyond all that
arrogance or cuteness.”
“You met him in person!”
said Ananya, sitting bolt up in bed, and abandoning her book. “I know it! You’re
grinning…tell me everything…”
And as Megha narrated
the story of rainy Sunday afternoon, she realized she’d finally found the plot
for the story she’d been chasing for two whole weeks now. Friendships – and how
strangely they get formed at times!
*
