The Story

Vaahika was a 21-year-old girl, with a tanned complexion, sharp black eyes, arched eyebrows, thin and dark lips. She had a mole on her right cheek and her nose was both, artistic and stupid. Her face was ordinary and so was her persona. She wouldn’t talk much but you could find her thinking almost every time. But if you asked her what she was thinking, there would be no reply. Maybe that is why life chose to treat her in the same way; keeping mum but eventually taking away everything she was left with to cherish or at least to call hers!

Vaahika left office by 6:30 that evening. Saarthak was already half way through to reach Connaught Place, where they were supposed to meet. She was in her usual mind-set, confused but cool.

Confusion?

Well, it was her thing. Texting, discussions, a bit of debating, was okay. But, meeting someone in person never excited her as such. More so, because she was more reserved within her own self and didn't ever feel right to bother others about just anything. Maybe that’s why nobody other than Saarthak knew much about her.

She was walking towards gate number 7, when the phone buzzed again.

Saarthak calling! 

She rejected the call and started walking faster. It took her another three minutes to reach there. She took the phone out of her bag and there were two more missed calls, followed by three 'where are you, vaahika?' texts. She felt awkward. His phone was not reachable, so she didn't try calling him more than once. It was when she turned around and saw him approaching towards her, that she felt normal again.

Both of them smiled at each other.

Saarthak was sweating profusely and was a few inches away from her now. Out of habit, Vaahika came forward and hugged him. She was still the same.

Affectionate!

Saarthak hugged her back. It was already 7.

"Time flies, no?" Saarthak said, blinking his lashes.

Vaahika nodded. Both of them hired an auto-rickshaw and went to Moolchand. Nobody uttered a single word all through the way. It was already 9 when they got there. They ate paranthas and post meal, decided to talk. But what could have been the topic?

“Talk? Talk about what?” Saarthak thought.

How does one talk to a girl, who a few months ago lost her family in an accident? She was an orphan now. And she was hurt in more ways than one. Saarthak was certainly not there to symphatise with her or anything similar. But, how would a person who has just gone through such a tragedy react? She was still smiling and loving.

But more than anything she was troubled. And she was hurt. 

The evening was indeed long but it was silent and so was she. Saarthak didn't make her talk. Not that evening, because he knew she needed time. Or maybe he knew she was far gone.
And even though he was right there with her he craved to listen to her. Like a person craves for someone who is gone ... far gone..