Everyone has a story

by Savi Sharma

Kabir looked at the cheque in disbelief and shook his head slowly. ‘But Vivaan, I can’t take this. You don’t even know me!’ he cried out, pushing the cheque back to Vivaan. I watched several heads turn in our direction.

  ‘Do I really not know you, Mr. Lover?’ Vivaan dropped his voice so nobody else in the café could hear our conversation. He smiled and continued. ‘And it’s not a favour; it’s a business deal. We will be partners on this. I will invest in the business and you will run the café. Do we have a deal?’

  It didn’t take long for Kabir to answer, although I could tell from his expression that his mind was racing in a million directions. ‘Thank you so much.’ Kabir was overwhelmed.

  We were all silent for a moment.

  ‘So have you thought of any names for your café?’ I asked.

  ‘I haven’t really allowed myself to think that far ahead,’ he admitted. ‘Do you have any suggestions?’

  ‘Kafe Kabir,’ I suggested with a smile.

  Kabir nodded and reached out to take our hands. ‘We will do this together,’ he said, determined.

  ~

  What a day it has been, I thought as I pulled my favourite nightshirt on and climbed into bed. The sounds of Pune were already starting to dissolve as my mind began to drift.

  This sudden change in our stories brought up a lot of questions inside of me. I wondered if we would really be able to start Kafe Kabir, but I also began to think about other things.

  We all seemed to have a deeper perspective in life, we knew what we wanted to achieve, but were we really ready for that day when the change came? Kabir was afraid of change, and it was noticeable. He wanted to make his dreams come true, but he was unsure. Vivaan wanted to travel the world. I wasn’t able to imagine not sitting in a café, drinking my coffee while speaking with him face to face. Without Vivaan, my comfortable surroundings would become very foreign.

  Although I had my own dreams of being an author, it seemed as if reality had set in. Where would I fit in with everyone else, as they moved forward with their own lives? Would they forget about me … or would I be too busy launching my novel to even remember them?

  My thoughts were interrupted by a beep from my phone. I turned on my side and picked up my phone, smiling as I guessed who the message was from.

  Sure enough, it was from Vivaan. ‘Did you get your story?’

  ‘Yes. I did,’ I replied quickly.

  I curled my body around the phone as I waited for his response. ‘What’s the name of the story?’ he asked.

  ‘Everyone has a story!’ I texted back.

  9

  Two Packages

  I arrived at the café to join Vivaan for a coffee after an exhausting day at the office. I had texted him earlier to let him know I would be late; I had some problems at work that I had to fix before I left for the day.

  Vivaan was waiting for me at the counter. I saw him through the window and drank in the sight of him as I walked to the entrance. He was wearing a black business suit, set off nicely by a bright blue tie.

  I rushed in with an apologetic look. ‘I am so sorry I’m late.’

  ‘It’s okay. How was your day?’ Vivaan said with a smile.

  I groaned. ‘I am completely tired and stressed out today,’ I said as I flopped down in the chair next to him.

  He looked sympathetic and stroked my arm before he broke into a smile. ‘Well … I was thinking about you,’ he began.

  I grinned. ‘You were?’

  He nodded. ‘I got you a couple things. I wanted to surprise you. It won’t fix your terrible day, but it might make it a little better,’ Vivaan said in a hopeful tone.

  I blushed and smiled widely. ‘You really got me a surprise?’ I asked.

  ‘Of course I did. I wanted something to put a smile back on your face,’ Vivaan said, passing me a bouquet of flowers and two brown paper packages that were wrapped and tied with a bow.

  I took the flowers and buried my nose in the petals, breathing in deeply. ‘The flowers would have been enough for me to smile,’ I pointed out.

  ‘No, the flowers were just the beauty that I saw on the way here. The real gifts are in the packages. The flowers will soon wilt, but what is in these packages will always be with you.’

  I was curious; I immediately set the flowers down and reached for the first package. I untied it to find an autographed copy of a book.

  ‘This book is the one the author was discussing when we first met in this café. No matter where life takes us, I decided we should cherish that moment. It was the starting point to us becoming so close in friendship.’

  Tears of happiness welled up in my eyes as I thought back to that night. ‘Oh my, I am at loss for words,’ I said, opening the cover to see what the author had written.

  To my fellow author,

  I hope I inspire you to be able to venture out on your journey as a writer. Your friend told me a lot about you and I cannot wait to be in a café some day, listening to you speak, as you did for me.

  Remember that a great writer doesn’t just put his heart into his book but his reader’s heart too.

  Best of luck,

  Arjun Mehra

  I threw my arms around Vivaan impulsively, hugging him. ‘Wow, Vivaan! You really didn’t have to do that! I don’t even know what to say. I am so touched. So happy,’ I said, my voice muffled in his shoulder.

  ‘Oh no,’ he said, settling me back on my chair. ‘You can’t say that yet. You have to open the other gift before you can say that.’ Vivaan motioned to the other package that was still wrapped.

  I quickly untied the second package to find a thick, sturdy book with a cloth cover. It had my name stamped on it. Confused, I opened the book.

  ‘This book is to represent the fact that some day you will finish your novel and be the writer you want to be. I got you a blank one; and it is up to you to fill these pages with your story.’

  I held the book to my chest, squeezing it as tightly as I had hugged Vivaan. ‘Even if I write only my name in this, I want you to be the first person to read it,’ I said. ‘But, what is the occasion for such beautiful gifts?’ I asked.

  He shook his head and smiled. ‘Nothing. Do we need occasions to celebrate life?’

  I hugged him again. ‘Thank you so very much for such thoughtful gifts!’ I said as tears of happiness formed in my eyes.

  It was hard to believe it wasn’t that long ago we were complete strangers. He was yet a mystery and I was just a person attending authors’ meets. We had come far in our daily conversations. We shared our views on life and relationships.

  Every day, our friendship grew stronger. I could no longer imagine a time when Vivaan would not be sitting at the café, waiting to drink coffee with me, discussing the values of life and our thoughts about the world around us.

  I wanted to dedicate my story to him. His gift would be a perfect place to write it in.

  VIVAAN

  10

  Sandals

  As we met each day, we grew closer. I found myself thinking about Meera all the time. At work, I imagined her soft hair brushing my cheek, and remembered how warm she felt as she threw her arms around me that day in the café. No flowers could smell as fresh as this beautiful girl; no sunset could take my breath away as the look of adoration in her eyes.

  If Meera wore her heart on her sleeve, so to speak, I held my own heart closely guarded. I wanted to open up more, but every time I started to take a step closer to that decision, I would think of the oceans I wanted to cross and the reasons why I wanted to escape. Freedom tempted me as much as the sweet girl in the café.

  One evening, we met in the café. This time Meera arrived before I did and she turned around, flashing those deep dimples in her cheeks as soon as she saw me.

  ‘Hi, partner,’ Kabir called out a greeting as I walked in. By now the café knew his
plans and it was no secret that he would be opening his own coffee shop.

  ‘Hello, Kabir,’ I greeted. ‘Meera. How are you both today?’

  As they responded, suddenly the press of customers became too much. Kabir turned to start preparing my coffee, but I stopped him.

  ‘Another time, my friend,’ I said. I saw the confusion in Meera’s eyes as I broke away from our customary ritual.

  I put some money on the counter for Meera’s cappuccino and held out my hand to her in invitation.

  ‘Are we going somewhere?’ she asked. ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘Five days of rain, and it has finally stopped,’ I said, gesturing to the windows. ‘Let’s go for a walk.’

  Grinning, Meera stood up and gathered her coat and bag. ‘That is a wonderful idea,’ she said, excitement in her voice.

  ‘The park is so close,’ Kabir said helpfully. ‘The benches will probably still be wet, but it would be a wonderful time for a walk.’

  I looked at Meera. ‘What do you think?’ She nodded.

  Kabir quickly poured the rest of Meera’s cappuccino in a paper cup and snapped a lid on it. He handed me a steaming paper cup of my own. ‘Enjoy, kids,’ he said with sparkling eyes.

  We stepped out into the air, clean and fresh-smelling. It was warm and a little humid. Meera had her long hair pulled back in a ponytail and I noticed the tendrils around her face curling softly in the humidity.

  We turned and began walking in the direction of the park, careful to give way to the rushing pedestrians as we took a much more leisurely pace.

  ‘Tell me about your day,’ I invited, threading my fingers in hers. She looked surprised at the gesture, but didn’t comment.

  ‘It wasn’t too bad,’ she began. ‘My boss is on vacation and even though I have more work, it is a relief that he is gone for a while.’

  I chuckled. ‘Does he make your life rough?’ I asked.

  Meera shrugged her shoulders. ‘I don’t think he means to be difficult,’ she began. ‘But he has a way of making everything seem like an emergency. Even the simplest tasks appear to be a crisis.’

  ‘I’ve worked with people like that,’ I responded. ‘It does make your days longer when there seems to be a problem everywhere you look.’

  ‘Imagine how miserable those people truly are on the inside,’ she said. ‘They must have ulcers from all the stress. Life is too short to worry about everything!’

  We walked in silence, finally coming to the park. We waited for the lights to change to cross the street, and then darted across the busy roadway before the lights turned again.

  At the edge of the park, Meera stopped suddenly. ‘What’s wrong?’ I asked.

  She looked down at her feet, and lifted a stylish high heel in explanation. ‘I’m not exactly dressed for a walk,’ she explained.

  I slapped a hand to my forehead. ‘Sorry, I didn’t even think about that.’

  She shook her head, dismissing my concerns. ‘It’s quite all right,’ she said. ‘I just need to make some adjustments.’

  She reached out her hand, clamping it tightly on my arm, and reached to pull a sandal off. ‘You’re taking your sandals off?’ I laughed.

  She grinned and nodded. ‘Can you hold it for a moment?’

  I took the sandal and held out my arm while she teetered on her bare foot, pulling the other one off. Then, she placed both sandals in her large shoulder bag.

  ‘Better?’ I asked, amused.

  She nodded firmly and we began walking again. I couldn’t help it; she was even shorter than before and I gave in to the need to throw my arm around her shoulder. In response, she snuggled closer to me as she padded along on the sidewalk.

  We walked through the park, enjoyed the evening as we chatted about some of our favourite childhood memories. I loved making her laugh; the sweet sound filled my soul with such happiness, I couldn’t imagine how I had navigated through my days before I met her.

  When we left the park and returned to the street, Meera pulled her sandals out of her bag and tried to slip her feet back into them. While she was balancing on her first sandal, she wobbled directly into me.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she laughed as I caught her, holding her firmly until she was steady in her sandals once more.

  ‘It’s quite all right,’ I responded, still holding her tightly. I didn’t want to let go.

  Meera looked up at me expectantly as I reached out and twirled one of the curls near her face around my finger. ‘I’ve been waiting to do that,’ I admitted, my voice deep with emotions.

  ‘You have?’ she asked, her eyes locking with mine.

  I couldn’t talk any more. I brushed her soft cheek with my hand, running my finger over one of her precious dimples before I leaned down and kissed her.

  MEERA

  11

  Scared

  After two months of hard work and dedication, we were nearly ready to see our dreams come true for our beloved friend. Kafe Kabir was inaugurated with a grand celebration and a ‘Kabir Weds Nisha’ declaration.

  During that time, I had met Nisha and we instantly connected with each other. She had such a friendly nature and was so beautiful; I was not surprised that Kabir had fallen in love with her so quickly.

  Kabir, Nisha, Vivaan and I became very close friends over those happy months. We met faithfully every weekend at Kafe Kabir and had a great time. Although both Kabir and Nisha were working hard to make the place a success, they were able to take time off to nurture our growing friendship. I valued those times together, just as much as I knew the other three did.

  ‘I know I haven’t known you as long as Kabir has, but you have made him a changed man,’ I said one evening to Nisha. ‘He loves you so much! I often dream of finding the kind of love that you and Kabir share.’ I thought of Vivaan. We were still waiting for him to arrive.

  Nisha smiled and ran her hand down my arm. ‘Meera, sweetheart, open your eyes. Even I can see that you love Vivaan. It is no big secret why you are pursuing him for your stories. Your heart has told you that you have finally found the person whom your soul loves and recognizes,’ she said. ‘It is scary, I know, to fall in love. But Vivaan is a good person and I think the two of you would be very happy.’

  I knew she was right. I had deep feelings for Vivaan, but I had never said anything to him, apart from some small hints, even after the kiss we shared at the park.

  ‘I wish I could express my feelings to him,’ I whispered. It felt so good just to be able to say that to Nisha, but at the same time, the admission filled my blood with a biting cold fear.

  ‘Why haven’t you told him how you feel? It is obvious you are truly falling in love with him!’ Kabir said, bringing my favourite coffee.

  I shrugged. ‘What if he doesn’t feel the same way for me, Kabir? I am afraid he will reject me,’ I said as my face turned red. It was embarrassing to tell my friend how I felt. But then again, he had told me and Vivaan about Nisha and look how well that turned out.

  ‘Meera, if you love him, let him know how you feel,’ Kabir insisted. ‘If you don’t make an effort to tell him and he doesn’t know how you truly feel, he might not ever know. You wouldn’t want something like that to pass you by, do you?’

  ‘No, Kabir, I don’t want something like that to pass me by,’ I replied as I saw Vivaan coming through the door.

  ~

  My story had turned out to be quite intriguing and filled with events that I only dreamed about. A lot had changed since that first time I met Vivaan. Kabir’s love story alone had changed me a lot. I was starting to long for the type of relationship he and Nisha shared. I wanted someone to share my happiness and my life with.

  I had to gather the courage to tell Vivaan how I truly felt. My hands began to shake as I thought about revealing my feelings. What if he laughed? No, he would never do that. But what if he
didn’t feel the same way? I wasn’t sure if I was brave enough to tell him I loved him.

  But I didn’t know if I had the courage to hold my feelings in any longer, either.

  It was midnight when I picked up my phone and sent a message to Vivaan. ‘I can’t sleep. Are you still awake?’

  After few minutes, I received a poem from Vivaan.

  ‘Not the people but the mind,

  Not the storm but the silence,

  Not the answer but the question,

  Not the result but the reason,

  I am scared of.

  Not the real but the dream,

  Not the moment but the memory,

  Not the lie but the truth,

  Not the death but the life,

  I am scared of.

  Not the end but the start,

  Not the strangers but the known,

  Not the hate but the love,

  Not the world but the me,

  I am scared of.’

  I was not sure how to respond. Should I praise his beautiful poem or should I be worried that something was wrong with him? I replied, ‘Let’s meet tomorrow.’

  I slept, my hand wrapped around my phone, waiting for his reply.

  12

  No Goodbyes

  The next day, when I woke up, I was surprised not to find any message from Vivaan. I figured he must have fallen asleep too, so I decided to call him.

  ‘The number you are trying to call is switched off,’ a tinny voice announced. ‘Please try again later.’

  Perhaps he forgot to pay his phone bill in all the excitement of getting Kafe Kabir up and running, I thought.

  I showered and got dressed, sliding into a soft, long skirt that I knew Vivaan liked.

  I tried to call him again, but got the same recording.

  I wasn’t sure what was going on. My mind went to the sad poem he had sent me the previous night. I kept calling, but his phone remained switched off.

  Finally, I dialled Kabir’s number.