Episode 2: With a stranger on highway

It was 6:30 in the morning. It was the morning of the new beginning for Yuvika. She woke up and got ready faster than usual. She wore her favourite grey trouser and white shirt. The shirt was loosely fit as she always preferred. She tied her hair in a ponytail. She did a light touch up with compact and a kohl eyeliner gave her smoky look. Mostly skin-coloured and sometimes pinkish lip balm made her lips glossy. The Rolex took place on her right wrist and a golden bracelet on the left one. She took out the pair of charcoal coloured Blahnik stilettos from the cupboard. Nothing was drastically changed in her appearance except the choice of clothes and accessories which she had kept in the collection for special days like today. But she always made sure that nothing was inordinate. Simplicity was her forte. It suited her the most. It made her more beautiful. She was ready to leave the house with her copper-coloured handbag.

She was eager and anxious at the same time. An old framed photo of her parents was hung on the wall in the front room above the vintage fireplace. She stood in front of it. Looking at the photo, she recalled the memories. They must have been the happiest today.  She came in the front room where she stood in front of the large painting of her grandmother facing the entrance of the room. She bowed her head. Her eyes got wet. After her parents, her grandmother was the only support she got and the only one for whom she could look after. She got very close to her after her parents’ death. And her death left Yuvika completely broken. She could hardly compose herself again. Ever since then, her work became her life, her world. She started working even harder.

She decided to have breakfast at the office as she did not want to get late on the first day in the new cabin.

It was 7:30. Every day, Yuvika self-drove to the city. The road from Chitgarh to Delhi highway was green, breezing, and no traffic at all. It took her 30 minutes to reach Delhi city. As soon as she got in the car, she got busy with the today’s schedule in her thoughts. She hardly drove a few meters where she spotted a boy who seemed to be in his teenage. He was in a round neck t-shirt and a pair of three-fourth. A bag pack and a cap made him look like a collegian. She could figure out that he was waiting for any vehicle.

Yuvika stopped the car, rolled the window down to her right and asked that boy, “Heading to the city?” The boy said yes as it was a single track with no bifurcation.

“Hey, thanks,” said the boy as soon as he got into the car. He closed the door and adjusted himself. “I was waiting for a bus or any vehicle. But all I found were pedestrians. Nobody goes to the city?”

“They go. Mostly late,” said Yuvika.

“By the way, I am Joe,” said the boy.

“Yuvika.”

“So you go to the city every day?” asked Joe.

“Yes. I work there.”

“So, why don’t you live there?” asked Joe.

“Because my home is here,” answered Yuvika.

“Ah. Alright.”

The conversation came to a halt like any other strangers’-courtesy-talks. Joe broke the silence, “I have come here for the project. I mean the city. I have started my architecture programme. And to study the town system, I have chosen this town to live in. And now, I see that I made a right choice. I mean, the town is so pretty.”

Yuvika smiled. Many thoughts were already churning in her mind: today’s presentation, two meetings with clients, and the first story which she was going to publish after being Editor in Chief.  She had already reached the office mentally. She felt a huge amount of responsibility. But it did not bother her. She loved it. That’s what she wanted to do.

Seeing her lost in thoughts, Joe asked, “Please don’t forget the turn. I don’t want to get late on my first day.”

“There is no turn in this way. And this is the first day for me too,” said Yuvika.

“Oh really? How?”

“Never mind,” said Yuvika.

She didn’t find it necessary to share this information with him. And she wanted to make lesser conversation anyway. She usually did so whenever she got nervous or over conscious.

They were about to reach the highway. Joe again asked, “Do you live alone?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Yuvika was trying to find a way to shorten the conversation. But it seemed impossible.

“Look, Joe, this is a very important day for me. We will talk about families, friends and life some other day,” Yuvika had to go straight as that young fellow didn’t seem to understand the signs to keep quiet.

“Alright. By the way, I am staying at that bald Parsi’s bungalow.”

Now it was high time for Yuvika to need to calm herself, “You mean Mr Irani?”

“Yeah.”

Yuvika finally frowned. One, he was not understanding that she was not in the state of such chatter. Two, he didn’t seem to have any respect for elders. And Mr Irani was an old man and was her neighbour ever since she came here to live.

“So you know his name or surname at least?” asked the furious Yuvika.

“Yeah,” said Joe, already sensing the danger.

“So is it necessary to address him so rudely just because you have to flaunt your teenage and ‘compulsory-coolness’?”

She shut him up in just one sentence. Joe was stunned and Yuvika went back to her chain of thoughts.

“Well, I am sorry if I have offended you,” said Joe who is more puzzled than terrified. To which, Yuvika didn’t choose to answer.

They reached to the city in silence.

Yuvika asked Joe for his address. She dropped him near his institute and left for her office. Before she left, she made sure that Joe would get a vehicle on his way back to home. Otherwise, she would have offered him a drive to go back.

Read the consecutive story here: https://faceoffiction.wordpress.com/consecutive-story/

The story is a complete fiction. Any resemblance to the real world is a pure coincidence. 
Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s