03-11-2025, 05:36 PM
Scene: Outside the Apartment – The Waiting Auto
When they stepped out, the day had fully brightened. The sky was clear, the sunlight warm but not harsh, perfectly balanced. The familiar hum of the city surrounded them, milk vendors calling out, children’s laughter echoing from balconies, the faint honk of traffic from the main road. It felt as though the world kept moving, unaware of the distance between them, the quiet gap that had widened since the last time they were together like this.
An auto stood waiting by the gate, its driver leaning lazily on the handlebar, wiping his face with a towel.
Priya Didi adjusted her pallu as they walked out, holding her bag close to her body. She moved with the same calm dignity Ravi had come to recognize in her over the years, quiet, poised, and somehow untouched by the chaos around her. In a world that was often frantic, she seemed like someone who could remain unshaken, a steady presence amidst the restlessness of everything else.
Ravi followed half a step behind, his eyes tracing the soft fall of her saree as it swayed with each stride. The sunlight caught the faint sheen of the fabric, outlining her form without revealing anything. Even in the simplest of moments, a cotton saree, no makeup, barely a bindi, she radiated a grace that felt beyond description. She didn’t need anything more than herself to be beautiful. Looking at her now, it was impossible to not feel both awed and guilty.
His thoughts wandered helplessly.
Two weeks ago, he had ruined something, or perhaps lost something he had never fully held onto. The memory of their last auto ride still lingered, vivid and uncomfortable. He remembered the silence between them, her face turned away, the weight of guilt pressing on him for days afterward. That quiet feeling of something broken, something that they couldn’t piece back together.
And now… fate had placed them side by side again, in the same cramped space, in the same routine, with everything between them unresolved. Unspoken. Unhealed.
She spoke briefly to the driver, her voice calm and clear, giving him the address with no sign of the conflict raging beneath the surface.
She was still the same, composed, distant, like the calm before a storm.
The driver nodded, starting the engine with a low rumble, breaking the stillness between them.
When they stepped out, the day had fully brightened. The sky was clear, the sunlight warm but not harsh, perfectly balanced. The familiar hum of the city surrounded them, milk vendors calling out, children’s laughter echoing from balconies, the faint honk of traffic from the main road. It felt as though the world kept moving, unaware of the distance between them, the quiet gap that had widened since the last time they were together like this.
An auto stood waiting by the gate, its driver leaning lazily on the handlebar, wiping his face with a towel.
Priya Didi adjusted her pallu as they walked out, holding her bag close to her body. She moved with the same calm dignity Ravi had come to recognize in her over the years, quiet, poised, and somehow untouched by the chaos around her. In a world that was often frantic, she seemed like someone who could remain unshaken, a steady presence amidst the restlessness of everything else.
Ravi followed half a step behind, his eyes tracing the soft fall of her saree as it swayed with each stride. The sunlight caught the faint sheen of the fabric, outlining her form without revealing anything. Even in the simplest of moments, a cotton saree, no makeup, barely a bindi, she radiated a grace that felt beyond description. She didn’t need anything more than herself to be beautiful. Looking at her now, it was impossible to not feel both awed and guilty.
His thoughts wandered helplessly.
Two weeks ago, he had ruined something, or perhaps lost something he had never fully held onto. The memory of their last auto ride still lingered, vivid and uncomfortable. He remembered the silence between them, her face turned away, the weight of guilt pressing on him for days afterward. That quiet feeling of something broken, something that they couldn’t piece back together.
And now… fate had placed them side by side again, in the same cramped space, in the same routine, with everything between them unresolved. Unspoken. Unhealed.
She spoke briefly to the driver, her voice calm and clear, giving him the address with no sign of the conflict raging beneath the surface.
She was still the same, composed, distant, like the calm before a storm.
The driver nodded, starting the engine with a low rumble, breaking the stillness between them.
-- oOo --
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