Everyone Has a Story 2

by Savi Sharma

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘That, Meera, will not change. Even if you and Vivaan are going in different directions physically, emotionally, and spiritually, you are both travelling the same path, side by side.’

  ‘And marriage would make that stronger. . .’

  ‘In your case, with Vivaan, I think so.’ Arjun stopped and then spoke in a mock-stern voice. ‘Here is my disclaimer. I’m not a fortune teller so I can’t promise you either direction will make you happy for the rest of your life.’ He leaned toward me and nudged my shoulder playfully as his voice brightened again. ‘But I don’t think running from the idea is a good idea. Talk to Vivaan, Meera. Tell him your hesitation. Be honest with him. . . and yourself.’

  I smiled as his words began to sink in. ‘You are a wise man, Arjun,’ I said.

  ‘And a cheap therapist, too,’ he teased.

  I felt a frown teasing my forehead once again. ‘Tell me, do you think I am wrong to question this? It’s no secret that Vivaan is the man of my dreams. He is good to me and he makes me deliriously happy. Do you think I’m crazy to question marrying him?’

  ‘No,’ he said seriously. ‘In fact, I am most encouraged by the fact that you are questioning this next step. To do so, you’re thinking with all your heart, your soul, and your head. You’re not blindly following your heart, and you’re not letting your head drive you in a specific direction. You are most wise, my friend. And that, I am sure, will lead you to the best conclusion for both you and Vivaan.’

  ‘Arjun, thank you,’ I said, feeling that for the first time in days, I was breathing clean, uncluttered air. It wasn’t that Vivaan’s suggestion was a bad one, not at all. But the pressure I immediately felt from the idea of ‘happily ever after’ weighing on me—innocently, but heavily—fell away, dissolving with the antidote of reason.

  ‘Don’t thank me,’ he said, his eyes flaming in their desire to help. ‘If my ramblings can help you, I am more than happy to assist, my friend. Please, let me know how things are going with—’

  ‘Meera,’ my assistant called to me, interrupting Arjun. I looked up to see her pushing through the crowds. ‘There you are! I tried calling but there wasn’t an answer on your phone.’

  Sheepishly, I dug my phone out and saw several missed calls. ‘I am so sorry, Aashi. I didn’t even notice. . .’

  ‘It’s okay,’ she responded, her voice still harried from rushing through the crowds. ‘It’s time to meet your publishers, though.’

  ‘Oh!’ Arjun said, pushing himself off the grass and reaching out quickly to help me to my feet. How the man could move so fast was beyond me, but he had more energy than a kitten. ‘Off with you! No matter where life takes you, no matter how far you are from your home, I hope your journeys always serve to keep you two close.’

  We shared a quick goodbye hug and I thanked him again before Aashi and I disappeared back into the tidal wave of the now-growing crowds.

  ‘You’ll make it if we hurry,’ Aashi said reassuringly. ‘Luckily the hotel is so close.’

  My phone vibrated in my hand, the ringtone drowned among all the voices around me. Frowning, I looked at the screen. ‘It’s Nisha,’ I said, then decided, ‘I’ll have to call her back.’

  We were waiting for a break in the traffic when the phone rang again. Once more, it was Nisha. ‘It must be important,’ I said to Aashi. ‘She knows I’m at the festival.’

  Aashi took my belongings so I could answer the call. I swiped the phone and pressed my other hand over my ear so I could hear her better. ‘Nisha. Is everything okay?’

  All I could hear was sobbing on the other side.

  ‘Nisha!’ I said again, startled. ‘Calm down so I can hear you! What is wrong?’ I looked over at Aashi, a horrible feeling washing over me.

  Between the sobs, I could hear deep breaths as my friend tried to pull herself together.

  ‘It’s Kabir,’ she said finally.

  ‘Kabir? What happened?’ Now I was terrified. Something happened. Something bad. My thoughts went everywhere but my focus was on the phone as I felt Aashi guiding me through the milling crowds.

  ‘There’s been an. . . accident.’ Nisha continued. ‘There. . . was. . .’ She sobbed again. ‘A fire at the café.’

  ‘No!’ I said, horrified. ‘Is Kabir okay?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘He was burned badly. He was rushed to the hospital and I am waiting for the doctors right now. Oh Meera, I’m so scared!’

  ‘He’ll be okay,’ I tried to reason. ‘He’s strong.’

  ‘Can you come back to Pune?’

  I looked over at Aashi, who was already wrestling all my belongings on one arm so she could pull out her own phone, ready to make calls.

  ‘Of course,’ I said. ‘I’ll get there as soon as I can.’

  Barely having pulled herself together enough to speak to me, I could hear Nisha begin sobbing, out of control again. ‘Thank. . .’ she began before breaking off into another sob.

  ‘I’ll be there as soon as I can,’ I said. ‘Which hospital?’

  ‘Siddharth Hospital,’ she responded. ‘He’ll be in the burns ICU.’

  ‘I’ll see you soon,’ I promised and hung up.

  I began to jog through the crowded sidewalk, Aashi rushing to keeping up with me. ‘Kabir is in ICU,’ I said. ‘There’s been a fire. I have to go.’

  ‘Of course,’ Aashi said. ‘You go pack. I’ll call the publishers and explain there has been an emergency. Then I’ll book you on the next flight to Pune.’

  I turned grateful eyes to my assistant. ‘Thank you.’

  She nodded soberly. ‘Are you okay, Meera?’ she asked.

  Was I okay? I wasn’t crying, but I could feel the adrenaline racing through my veins. ‘I think I’m numb right now,’ I said as we reached the hotel. ‘Just get me on the first possible plane so I can get home.’

  8

  VIVAAN

  As busy as the traffic can be in Pune, the vehicles darting in and out of the roads in Bangalore never ceased to amaze me. They were like bees buzzing around to defend their hives from an invading bear . . . all moving in singular directions but with an urgency as a whole entity to get to the next point.

  Despite getting a good night’s sleep in my modest hotel, I was still exhausted. Thoughts of Meera invaded my mind, like a weighted-down vest clinging to every synapse. I was still surprised at her hesitation when I brought up marriage last week.

  The confusion tugged at her beautiful smile and at once, I was afraid I had made a horrible mistake. Was the idea of taking our relationship to the next step going to ultimately be a wedge between us? As I replayed the evening, my mind worked through the words we spoke, gliding over her encouraging ones and stopping at her hesitant, puzzled questions like a brush snags on a lock of tangled hair.

  I shook my head, forcing my concerns out of my head. I knew Meera loved me. Her heart and soul sparkled with the rays of love, becoming more pronounced as we built memories together over these many months. I knew she was the woman I would spend the rest of my life with, knew it with determined certainty.

  It was time to set aside any negative thoughts and direct my mind toward positive ones, kindling my confidence for the hours ahead.

  Today was an important day for me. Today was the day I would be meeting possible investors to convince them of my dream to open Musafir. I believed in my dream as much as I believed in my love for Meera, and I was sure that this confidence would translate to several successful meetings.

  Soon, oh so soon, Musafir would be more than just the thoughts in my mind. Soon, it would be the avenue people would take to learn more about our beautiful country. I really couldn’t wait—surely, someone would see the value of my idea and help me breathe life into my dream.

  Finishing my breakfast, I picked up my phone to start looking for an Uber to bring me to my destination. Even though it was a quick flight, I was tired by the time I landed, and so had decided to book a hotel near the airport. I knew
that meant it would be about an hour from there to meet with my investors, but it was worth it for me to get to bed soon.

  I looked through the app and was disappointed to find that there weren’t any vehicles close to my location. I couldn’t afford to be picky right now. I needed to leave soon so I could get started on my first round of meetings. I began looking for shared rides on my app.

  Finding one close by, I reserved the ride and quickly gathered my belongings, leaving payment for my meal on the table. Rushing out of the restaurant, I caught my server’s eye and nodded towards my table to let her know that I had left the money behind.

  It was already warm when I stepped outside; the air clogged with heat and dust. Anxiously, I waited near the narrow street for my ride to appear.

  When it did, I climbed into the cab, gave my destination to the driver and nodded to the other gentleman beside me. He was younger than me; his eyes had a sharp, intelligent look and his clothes were neatly pressed. He was obviously on his way to work.

  I settled my belongings and introduced myself.

  ‘I’m Parth,’ he said, holding out his hand to shake mine.

  ‘Where are you going today?’ I asked.

  At that, I saw his shoulders droop a little bit as he sighed deeply. ‘To work,’ he said simply.

  I knew that look; it was very similar to the one I had when I used to work at the bank. It said he was determined to have a productive day, but that he wasn’t going to enjoy it at all. I nodded sympathetically.

  ‘What do you do for work?’ I asked, curious.

  ‘I’m a marketing manager for one of the dot-com companies in Bangalore. The company has been around for quite a while but there is a lot of competition and my company is demanding more and more of me to attract more business.’

  I groaned, understanding his frustration. ‘I completely understand. No matter how well you do, no matter how much business you attract, your company sees that as a reason to push harder and harder.’

  ‘Exactly,’ he agreed. ‘If I brought in 100 customers this month, why can’t I bring in 110 next month? Or, heaven forbid, if I attract less than that 100 customers next month!’

  ‘How long have you been with your company?’

  ‘Two years. Two very long years. Don’t get me wrong, they are good to me,’ he said quickly so I knew he was not disparaging his company. ‘I make a good salary and there are plenty of opportunities to direct my own creativity. It’s just that. . . ,’ he broke off, suddenly lost in his thoughts.

  I continued for him, knowing his story well. ‘It’s just that they want you to keep doing more.’

  ‘Yes.’

  We sat in silence for a little while before Parth spoke again. ‘Where are you going today, Vivaan?’

  I smiled, excited once more at the prospect of the day. ‘I am actually on my way to meeting some potential investors for a company I am trying to start up.’

  ‘That is fantastic,’ my companion said, his eyes lighting up. ‘What kind of company do you want to have? Another software company?’ he guessed.

  I shook my head and laughed. ‘No, nothing like that,’ I responded. I looked out of the dusty window, but my mind was suddenly in the rich, green jungles of Satpura National Park. In my memory, I was climbing up from a steep valley, after having climbed down to a river to watch otters frolicking in the late morning sun. My shoes dug into the damp earth as I ascended the steep path all around me, I heard the sounds of wildlife; the high-pitched screech of the spotted eagle, the rumblings of large mammals. It was exhilarating and as my attention returned to my current setting, I brought back a handful of that green peace with me.

  I told Parth that I was going to start a unique tour company.

  ‘To other countries?’ he asked, curious.

  ‘No,’ I smiled, easing into my concept once more. ‘It will be a company that organises trips in India.’

  Parth pursed his lips and thought about it. ‘But there are similar companies here, aren’t there?’

  ‘Not like this,’ I said. I wanted to tell him more, but I had only just met the young man and I decided to keep the specifics close for now. Something told me I could trust him, but I knew how quickly an idea could be let out, even if it was accidental. He could be excited and tell a peer at work, who might tell someone else. . . and before you know it, there would be a handful of Musafirs I would be competing with. No, better to keep the crux of the idea to myself for now . . . well, except for my friends and the investors I hoped to convince.

  ‘I understand,’ Parth said. ‘If it’s a good idea, you should keep it to yourself for now. I’ve had dreams of starting my own company as well,’ he added. ‘I would be devastated if I finally made that move and left my predictable income to chase a dream that wasn’t so special, after all.’

  ‘You’re not happy with your current job, then?’ I asked, eager to turn the conversation away from my own startup. I loved talking about it, but I had to remind myself that although I instinctively knew I could trust my companion, he was still a stranger. I needed to be careful; I shouldn’t talk too much about the company before it had even started.

  He shook his head. ‘Again, it is a good position for me, and I worked hard to get there, but no. I am not happy. I dream of being my own person, answering only to myself, following my own dreams.’

  ‘So, why not do it?’ I asked.

  Parth smiled sadly. ‘Because what if I fail?’

  ‘But what if you succeeded?’ I asked hypothetically. ‘You would never know how far your dreams can take you until you take that first step.’

  ‘You make it sound so easy,’ he responded. ‘You have so much confidence. But what if you fail?’ Suddenly he stopped and blushed. ‘I am sorry, Vivaan. I didn’t mean to be negative. You seem so sure and it is wrong of me to put my own caution on your dreams. I hope I have not offended you!’

  I laughed. ‘I am not offended,’ I said, giving him a big grin to reassure him that I was not put off by his comments. ‘You are right; it is hard to take chances sometimes. May I share a story with you?’

  Parth nodded and sat back in the well-used seat, sighing in relief. ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘I was like you once,’ I began, thinking of my own misery when I worked at the bank. I could feel its oppression weighing on me like a heavy foot pressing down on my head, trying to push me to the ground. ‘I had a great job, one that was full of promise. I had money and could afford the nicest home. But, despite all the security, all the new things around me, I was miserable.’

  ‘I can definitely relate to that,’ Parth said, nodding earnestly.

  ‘It is easy to be trapped into that feeling of security, isn’t it? But notice I used the word “trapped” and “security” in the same sentence. It is good to know that you are in a secure career, but for many like me—and I think like you—our spirits are not meant to sit behind a desk, scurrying to make a healthy bottom line financially for our company. There is so much more to life.’

  ‘I suppose so. And you’ve been happy?’ he asked curiously.

  ‘Well,’ I admitted, ‘there had been struggles along the way as my own story started to reroute itself. But I was able to open myself up to other very good things. Like Meera.’

  ‘Meera,’ Parth repeated her name as if he realised how important she was to me.

  I nodded. ‘Meera was in the process of following her own dream. She wanted to become a writer. That was why she was at the café that night.’

  ‘So, love at first sight?’ he teased, tapping his fingers together in anticipation.

  I shrugged. ‘If I had allowed it to, probably. But I was in the process of escaping at that point and it wasn’t until later that we became a couple.’

  ‘And Meera is a writer?’

  I nodded proudly. ‘Meera pursued her dreams and has an amazing career. She’s published two books already and she’s India’s highest selling female author right now,’ I said.

  ‘Truly?’ Parth said
. ‘What has she written?’

  ‘Her first book was called Everyone Has a Story .’

  His eyes lit up. ‘Oh! I read that. Yes, it’s a very inspiring story . . . but that only really happens in stories.’

  I shook my head earnestly. ‘No. It’s all true. It captures my story with hers and that of our very good friends. It is very much how it happened.’

  He looked at me, his eyes wide. ‘Seriously?’ he asked, awe and hope in his voice.

  ‘Seriously.’

  ‘I’m so amazed. I still can’t believe this. And all this because you all took chances and pursued your own hopes, dreams, and desires,’ Parth said, nodding thoughtfully.

  ‘Yes,’ I said.

  ‘But,’ Parth started again. ‘What if you failed? Or what if Meera or Kabir failed?’

  ‘Let me ask you this,’ I said, knowing that we were coming close to my destination. ‘What if they hadn’t tried? What if I stayed with my company?’

  ‘You would be living a life of regret,’ he responded quietly.

  ‘Exactly. Kabir and Nisha wouldn’t be together, Meera wouldn’t have her novels. And I would be sitting behind a desk every day, staring at an endless stream of numbers.’ I couldn’t help shuddering a bit at the idea. ‘It’s okay to fail,’ I said earnestly, ‘but it is far worse to live an unfulfilled life of regret. To always wonder where I would be, what I would be doing if I had followed my dreams and had the courage to walk out the doors of Citibank that day.’

  Our Uber pulled up to my destination. I shook Parth’s hand.

  ‘Good luck today,’ he said. ‘And thank you for your encouraging words. Believe me, you have given me a lot to think about.’

  I climbed out of the car. ‘And good luck to you, too,’ I said. ‘I have a feeling the next time we meet, you’ll have your own story to tell me!’

  Parth was laughing as I closed the door and turned to the tall building where the investors were waiting for me. Before I entered the building, I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text to Meera. ‘I’m here. . . wish me luck! I’m going to silence my phone in the meetings, but I’ll check in with you after.’