Encounter

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Kavya Randhawa

It was the morning after the Lohri celebration, and as soon as dadi (grandmother) caught sight of my hand, she erupted in fury at the sight of my injury from the previous day. Though I knew I wasn't at fault, I was grateful that the timely application of ointment had prevented the burn from worsening. Unbeknownst to me, I had brought the ointment with me that the person from the previous day had applied to my hand.

Rising early despite retiring late the night before, I embarked on my morning routine, beginning with a refreshing shower to prepare for the day ahead. Just as I finished getting ready, my Nani (maternal grandmother) phoned me, expressing her desire to see me. Since she hadn't been able to attend the party due to her joint pain, I decided to pay her a visit. Opting for a comfortable yet presentable ensemble, I dressed in a sweater, trousers, and sneakers, layering on an overcoat to shield against the morning chill before setting out.

Upon arriving at my Nani's house, I was greeted by my Mami (aunt), who informed me that Nani was on the terrace, enjoying the warmth of the sun.

Just as I was about to ascend the stairs, I encountered Harsh, my Mama's (uncle's) younger son. His elder brother, Amrit, was also a medical student at the University of Banaras, one year senior to me.

"Where are you headed?" Harsh inquired.

"I'm going to meet nani," I replied.

"Is anyone else home?" I asked, gesturing towards the pile of shoes at the entrance.

"Yes, two of Amrit bhai's friends are here," he informed me.

"Oh, Amrit's friends," I remarked. Despite Amrit being two years my senior, I refrained from addressing him with the respect typically afforded to an elder brother. Our relationship was characterized by a playful rivalry; although we didn't harbor any animosity towards each other, we often found ourselves engaged in petty arguments. Despite this, Amrit always treated me like a younger sister, regardless of our frequent disagreements. 

Just as I approached the terrace, I shed my overcoat, draping it over the uninjured arm. With a swift motion, I rolled up the sleeves of my sweater. Upon reaching the terrace, my gaze fell upon Amrit, who met my eyes and waved. Returning the gesture with a smile, I suddenly noticed a familiar face beside him, casting a curious glance in my direction before abruptly turning away.

It was him—the gentleman who had aided me in dressing my wound. A pang of regret washed over me as I realized I had never properly thanked him for his kindness. Disconcerted by this realization, I was brought back to the present when my Nani called out to me, "Rooh, you've arrived."

Returning her smile, I fetched a chair and positioned it beside her cot, taking a seat nearby. As she rose to her feet, she clasped my hands and pressed kisses upon them. "I hadn't expected you to come," she remarked.

Inwardly, I couldn't help but think, "How could I not, when you practically summoned me?" Yet, I held my tongue, opting not to engage in argument. Our relationship had always been distant, marked by her reminders of my perceived flaws—acne scars and unruly hair—that I had long since accepted as defining features rather than shortcomings. It had taken time, but I had learned to embrace them.

"My dear, your complexion seems to be darkening. Why not try some homemade remedies?" she suggested.

"I will," I replied, though my enthusiasm waned as our conversation progressed. Why had she even called me here if she had nothing substantial to discuss?

Lost in my thoughts, I glanced around and spotted him, seated about ten feet away, engrossed in a book. Avoiding his gaze, I redirected my attention to Nani, only to be startled by her loud proclamation, "He's Amrit's friend from Hyderabad." His confused expression met mine briefly before I averted my eyes once more.

"When do you leave?" Amrit inquired.

"Tomorrow, most likely," I responded. "And you?"

"Today," he replied.

Before I could say more, a familiar voice echoed from the street below, calling out to Amrit. With a nod of reassurance to his friend, he excused himself, disappearing into the crowd to greet his childhood companions. 

"I'll be back soon," Amrit informed the man seated beside him, who simply nodded in response.

Turning my attention back to Nani, I found her drifting off to sleep, leaving us alone with my unease. A dilemma gripped me—should I initiate a conversation with him or remain silent? The sound of my own heartbeat echoed in my ears, inexplicably nervous in his presence. Gathering my courage, I glanced at him; he seemed absorbed in his book. Catching sight of me in his peripheral vision, he lifted his gaze, our eyes meeting in a brief encounter.

In a hushed voice, I murmured, "Thank you," unsure if he had even heard me.

He arched an eyebrow in response.

Just as I was about to repeat my gratitude, he interjected, "For what?"

"For helping me with my wound yesterday," I replied, noticing him shifting his chair closer to mine, positioning it near the foot of my grandmother's cot.

"It was simply my duty," he stated.

"But you weren't obligated, yet you still assisted me. I'm grateful regardless of the reason," I insisted.


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