Sitting near the hotel window watching the little drops of rain slide down the frosted window pane, Nina’s mind wandered back in time. 1983 seemed like yesterday. As a young sixteen year old it was only natural to be swept off her feet when this perfect “Mills and Boon” kind of guy who came into her life. The friendship blossomed into “more than just friends” and finally withered into oblivion when Joy, her “mills and Boon man” joined the navy.

She had come a long way since then. But, somewhere hidden within the depths of her mind was a deep sense of rejection from the man of her dreams. A feeling that neither time, nor success could completely heal. But Nina was sure she was ready to settle down after years of being lonely. It was at this point in time that she met Naveen.

It was their sixteenth fight since their wedding eight months ago. As Pradeep reached out to hug Nishi, trying to make up for their hot and angry words, to which he had contributed a fair share, she shrugged out and walked away. After that, she got busy in the kitchen. He knew just by watching the set of her shoulders that she would not speak to him for some time.

Shaking his head in frustration, he stepped out to buy some fruits, soap and eggs, then came back and wrote this note that he stuck with a pineapple shaped magnet on to their fridge.

“Sorry!” he wrote. “Have got the things you wanted. Just don’t make ‘dalia’ for breakfast and lunch again. I need a break from it for at least two months.”

By the time he had finished his bath, Nishi was choosing her clothes from the cupboard in their room. He passed her without a word. As he went towards the kitchen, he noticed her reply stuck on the fridge – written in a purple ink.

The conversation with her best friend had run on for over an hour. At the end of it, Preeti was in a reflective mood. She walked around, putting away things in the small room she had as a paying guest in the busy metro, letting the details of the romantic crisis afflicting her friend run through her head. Feeling philosophical, she decided to send one last sms. “Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired…” she wrote. “You don’t know it, but you are loved in a thousand ways, even if it isn’t in the way you want…good night, get some sleep.” As she punched in the familiar numbers, she was yawning, feeling sleepy herself. It was past midnight.

Drishya’s footsteps picked up speed as she walked the last few metres of platform to where her train waited. Even as she hurried, she could see the strangeness of her departure. “Please don’t worry – I will manage,” she had said, to not one but two sets of anxious parents – hers and Pradeep’s. With both of them wanting to see her off, she had been keen to avoid a tug-of-war farewell. “Better this lonely setting off than the tension of keeping each of them away from the others’ throats,” she was thinking to herself.

She had barely settled in with her luggage into the compartment when the train began to move on its night-long journey to Hyderabad – the city where she was moving – to a new assignment, a new life. As she watched images of Chennai slide slowly past, Drishya could not help the prickle of tears behind her eyelids, tears she thought had dried forever in the months following the accident that changed her life forever.

Shweta:

‘Just couldn’t find the green earrings that are an exact match for this salwar suit. Must find a better way to store my daily stuff. I wonder whether he notices? Whether I’m wearing green or blue with this green dress? I wonder whether he’ll even be there…’

Sandeep:

‘Almost killed myself getting into that runaway bus the last time. Must start at least five minutes earlier each morning. Does she always need to be there at the same time? Or is she getting used to seeing me on the same bus…’