Back in my bed, I found myself lost in a whirlwind of thoughts that seemed to overwhelm my mind. Even in my dreams, I couldn't escape the grip of memories that weighed heavily on my consciousness, reminding me of the challenges I've faced throughout my life. With so much to say, my thoughts seemed to have a life of their own, branching off into endless streams of contemplation.
As the winter chill hung in the air, the urge to use the bathroom pulled me from my reverie upon waking. Upon returning, I instinctively reached for my phone, flicking on the Wi-Fi that I habitually turned off while sleeping. Checking in on my children, Mayra and Prabhu, I found them both asleep but uncovered, the blankets they'd kicked aside in disarray.
In my haste, I'd left behind many things, including my own warm blankets. Now, with just a few blankets to spare, I arranged them as best I could for my children and myself, hoping to stave off the cold.
Disappointed to find no messages from Zahir, I checked the time—it was quarter to four. Resigned, I settled back into bed, turning to social media to distract myself. Scrolling through Facebook and Instagram, I eventually noticed a few messages waiting for me on Messenger.
"Hi Anuja, how are you? It's been a while since we last spoke. Are you still in Delhi? Can I have your number?"
I couldn't help but feel a sense of awe at receiving a message from my former principal, Ms. Saniya Bakhtiyaar, whom I hadn't heard from since 2006. Excitedly, I shared my number with her, hopeful for a call.
Sometimes, I mused, life has a way of guiding us, showing us the path forward. It's important to go with the flow, I reminded myself, as I lay in bed once more, thoughts drifting back to the lingering night and the events of 2007 that continued to haunt me.
I recalled the day, when we met first. I was again reminded of a conversation with Prabhas' and the more I talked the more I drew closer to him ...........
"Hi, I'm Prabhas." "Hello, I'm Anuja." "I know you, in fact, everyone in our family is aware of you," Prabhas said.
Surprised, I asked how they knew of me, as I'd only met Piyush's family.
"I've even been to Bareilly when you were there," he replied.
I struggled to recall the visit, my memories hazy from the passage of time. But Piyush chimed in, reminiscing about his brother's playful antics.
The conversation turned to palm reading, and I confidently proclaimed my ability. Piyush, taken aback, challenged me to read Prabhas's palm.
With his palm stretched out before me, I launched into a reading, weaving together bits of information I'd gathered about him. He listened intently, visibly shocked by my insights.
As the evening progressed, we moved to the stairs, where Piyush introduced a playful challenge: a beer-drinking competition. Despite Prabhas's initial reluctance, I accepted, eager to prove myself. In a surprising turn of events, I finished my beer in one gulp, leaving Prabhas stunned.
Amidst laughter and camaraderie, I couldn't shake the attraction I felt toward Prabhas. His presence enthralled me, his every word captivating my attention.
As the night wore on, Prabhas's mother invited us to stay over. Reluctantly, I agreed, eventually retiring to bed after a long evening filled with laughter and newfound connections.
In the quiet of the night, I couldn't shake the memory of Prabhas and his words. Despite knowing little about his past or future, I found myself inexplicably drawn to him, his magnetic presence lingering in my thoughts.