Swara had never been a heavy eater. Just few nibbles, here and there was enough to bring some energy to her. But this morning, her plate was packed with food enough to be served for an entire day.

Puffed eyes and fingers on the piano - that's how Reema found her this morning. No words were exchanged but Swara knew the feast on the table was her ways of consolation.

She hadn't been kind to herself the other night and there, she had her entire family giving those gestures instead. Back in times, she wanted them to be loud for her.

Now that they are, Swara did not know what to do. The lump in her throat wouldn't let her eat, every swallow had become a painful process. Can a heartbreak be this terrible? this physical?

Another swallow and her eyes squinted again. The table talks continued with yet another school tale from Mia. For some reason, all their voices seemed so distant to her ears when they were just beside her.

Must be from all the crying- her head felt light in contrast to what her body felt. Swara had been lost somewhere until a notification popped on her screen.

Just a glance and Swara stilled. Reema was quick to notice the shift, "Is everything good, Swara?" All eyes were on her afterall, she held her phone and not eating her breakfast.

Swara gave a nod, "Yeah maasi... I'm done with my breakfast." Before question would shoot on her, she was already on foot moving towards the music house. Worry on everyone's face etched deeper as now only an unfinished plate remained on her place.

Desires often reaches one in forms of dreams when it doesn't become a reality. On one of those days, Swara woke up from a call sometimes or from a message. The usual flirty style of his, calling her Juliet and asking her to wake up.

When she did, there was no such message. Her inbox were mostly full but the one she expected to receive a message from was empty. So today when she received such a text, in an unanticipated time it felt overwhelming.

The text was from him.

Her thumb finger ran over the notification. Over his name- S(u)nskaar.

The 'Sun' in his name easily came from the fond nickname- Sunny, Asha gave for him. She changed her contact to tease him and for a longtime he wanted to change, ears red each time he tried to grab her phone.

Swara had to update with a new phone but his name, still fondly saved the very same and the same contact that became like a secret. Having it on her screen after years felt like a dream.

S(u)nskaar: Can we meet this evening?

Oh, meet. She leaned on the door with eyes still on the text and mind in wander. Swara knew what this meet was about-- by now she almost knew what had happened to him, almost. Was she ready to hear it all?

Hardships, Surviving and then, merely existing. That was all he might have done or still doing and she never knew, none of it. Tears brimmed her hazels and they slip, slowly one by one on the name.  

How cruel fate had been?

~

They were meeting at seven this evening.

Sanskaar had dropped his head on the table of his office's pantry. A hand still holding on to his phone, conversation of them right before him. He had never imagined a day would ever come for them to converse this way.

Crisp and to the point. No more of those casual texting or subtle flirting they had in their high school days.

All of them were gone. Dusted.

The version they were now looked so different far from what he they'd be years ago. In that sense, when had life ever gave a chance for his visions to become a reality? He sighed softly.

"Sanskaar! What are you doing here?" Rumali had just grabbed her apricot juice from the pantry, looking for a seat. Sanskaar acknowledged her question with a lazy hand wave, still the same position.

"I thought you left.  Didn't you take a half-day leave?" Sanskaar placed the phone down as his gaze shifted to Rumali who had taken a seating beside him, question in her eyes.

"Hmm. Will move out in ten minutes." There was something a miss; she could feel. He had been out of space from the morning, too much visible even for their boss to ask if he was doing well.

"Are you going home?" Home? Such a distant feeling. That house no more felt home, not without its people that made it that way. However, he'd be meeting one this evening and he wasn't sure if that counts as homecoming.

His one word answers or gestures was her queue to no probe him anymore. But she didn't want to leave him alone either.  

"There's something I should have done, a very long time." Chances to confess then was impossible for him. Maybe, he should have gathered some courage to let her know later-- atleast about his grandmother.

For all the love Swara had on Asha, she deserved to know it all.

"It's okay, Sanskaar." Rumali intruded his thoughts, "As long as you are still willing to do it, it should work." Somehow in the bleak day, Rumali did manage to pull out a weak smile for her words of encouragement without any context.

If only she knew, will of his barely mattered here.

Sanskaar stood up on foot grabbing his phone, "I'm leaving." He had a journey enroute Shimla ahead. Rumali forwarded her apricot juice to him. Sanskaar raised an eyebrow, still refusing to accept it.  

Rumali shoved the juice can in his hand, "You need it more than me." She looked away starting to scroll her Instagram, acting all busy, "All the best."

He looked at the juice can and then at her.

Little mercies of life.

~

There had never been weekends for Aditya in past; always weekdays with no weekends. Not that he enjoyed office work but it was better off doing nothing back home. Productivity over rest.

With Pavithra on picture, things slowly got a change. Seeing her doing silliest things like board a bus with no destination and the same song still on loop. Was it okay to goof around like that?

Her answer was simple, "Career based Pavithra has full five days to take charge but doesn't the real her also deserve some solace and not just stress alone right? Two days is all for her to do her favourites. What do you do?"

Him? Aditya didn't know if he even had the same old heart to find joy in his favourite things without being bitter. But looks like he still did.

Karting back on those tracks where he drove with one dream- to become a racer and the fact it never happened broke him. That evening, Pavithra held him for the first time as he cried.

There was no going back then. Cars was his fascination and though, he couldn't make much time to back to tracks every weekends he got himself something else instead.

A garage for himself with a handful of five collection of cars, all his favourites.

So weekends were mostly spent here. After Mrs came, a little more attention went to her but the rest? All here only. Cleaning, repairing and all that stuff.

Just another Saturday there when Swara was dialing for a cab. He would have offered to drop if not for the file he had to pass on to the accountant visiting him in thirty minutes.

Neverthless, Aditya let Swara drive off with one from his collections.

Black Rolls Royce entered just a minute later Swara left. It was their father, Aditya turned back to continue fixing the rear mirror but the distant mumbles from the driveway was way too distracting.

Aditya headed outside and one look at the car, he could tell- flat tire. Security and his father had the spare tire outside along with the tools but it seems they could not fix it.

He pressed his lips in a thin line. Aditya wanted to leave but if only-- he strode to them. Shekhar did not expect his son to come, let alone take the tire and do the needful by himself.

The security had returned to the station. "You know how to change a tire?" Shekhar's amusement didn't go unnoticed by Aditya, he only passed a glance to him and back to removing the bolt of the tire.

"Ramesh dada didn't come?" He asked instead.

"He wanted a day off." Aditya hummed in response, still focused on the work he laid hands on. That was one thing, Shekhar and he had very much in common.

Once the tire was replaced, he bolted them again. Shekhar held the bolts in his palms and each time Aditya took one, hesitation was clear and he wouldn't look at him in the eyes.

They've only been throwing jabs at each other or else it was purely business talks. So this closeness and the silence it came along with was not something Aditya liked.

"It's done." Aditya dusted away his hands but Shekhar's concern was else where. Upon the sooth on his son's temples.
Shekar brought his hands closer but Aditya flinched, a step back with heart in the throat,  "There's--"

Aditya stood on the foot, trying to brushing off the sooth or his feelings? He wasn't sure either.

The hand that remained on air finally did come down in disappointment. Shekhar did stood up too, "I didn't know you knew this."

At last, Aditya did look up to his father eyes he had been ignoring all along, "I wanted to race, remember? How could I be one without knowing the basics?"

That one look--  Shekhar was reminded of Aditya in teens. Times when his eyes spoke of all the hurt when even words betrayed him.

Those slightly darted eyes were enough for Aditya-- he had no energy in him to revisit the painful memory. It was enough for the day.

Aditya stormed from the place to the mansion but then, Pavithra stood by the entrance. How long has she been? or how much she heard? He didn't know.

Though his pacing had faltered, it didn't stop. Aditya passed a weak smile wanting to leave but she held him by the wrist.

Her thumb caressed over his temple where his father tried-- Aditya gulped looking down. The moment she withdrew, he left.

Pavithra's gaze shifted to Shekhar who still stood unmoved from the driveway.

~

Water gleamed by the street lamps as Sanskaar watched them sitting by the stairs just like those times. Just that, he only missed a certain person's company.

Anyways he was going to meet her, soon.

Sanskaar reached way ahead of time; more than a hour before the said meeting but he liked it here. This place had seen them grow.

Swara confessed him here and ran away.

He could still it; see her in a sky blue dress. She spoke his name with such tenderness and those words in a soft whisper-- like a secret.

This time, it was him guarding it like a secret but after snatching that from her. Sanskaar's fingers caressed on her earring.

A souvenir was all he had to remember he was also loved, once. A remainder of what he was once before what ruin he became now.

How was he even lucky to be loved by these people? Grandparents who he never belonged to gave everything away to him, for him till last breath.

Friends, who weren't bullies like his previous school and included him in every talk and every action.

Swara, of all who almost saw every dirt he hid embraced him with so much kindness and love-- he thought it never existed. That never belonged to him.

The cool wind brushed off his strands on the forehead. Sanskaar buried himself on the knees-- it was all cold but memories warmed his heart.

Few lost and many abandoned.

Swara would never bait a moment to call out his stupidity after what he had to tell her. However, nothing was going to stop him today from telling her.

Somewhere Sanskaar already knew disaster would find him, one day or another but even with another chance, he could never let Swara be apart of it.

Never.

~

Grey clouds made a surprising visit on a july sunday evening. Forcast predicted moderate spells of showers but it didn't look anything less than heavy.

Swara mused as she drove the car way past those trees that swayed like ghosts in the guest of wind. For reasons, this felt quite similar to that cold summer evening.

Heartbreak and rain; just as how the thunder rumbles and cracks an even sky into two. Alas! Unlike the sky could still be together, they couldn't be one.

Nine summers had gone painfully slow no matter of people or music she was surrounded by. Her story was different but him--

He had none.

He refused to have any so how was he living? Doing things he claimed to never do. That hurt Swara more-- oh, she needed to stop.

Her glossy hazels glanced at the dashboard- Six and forty eight. She'd reach on time with just one intersection and three more lanes to cross.

Swara wet her chapped lips as one hand ran over the other from cold. Heater in the car was barely doing it's job and she wore speghetti sleeves.

No scarf or jacket for backup. Just great!

Fever had already caught her by noon yet not in full-fledge. However, this weather was making it worse- burning eyes and a slight throb in her head.

Swara's grip on the wheel tightened as she eased into the curve. The blare of a truck's horn ripped the silence and before she could react, glaring headlights blinded her.

The truck slammed into the left rear mirror of her car in a plunging force. Swara snapped her head forward, the edge of the wheel clipped her forehead.

Blood streamed all the way down but her left leg remained painfully there on the clutch to stop that car that skid sideways towards the edge of the road.

Oh, no.

She cannot -- ah, the light pole. Swara's lashes fluttered to see that lamp post standby. If not for this then she would go downhill through the slope.

Just as she wanted, the car rather struck the light pole. More glass shattered and more bruises were made before it all fell into a daunting silence.

Swara opened her eyes and the world seemed to tilt even though her car had stopped. Gasp for air and whimper in pain came in full bouts.

She could not help herself. Those legs of hers wouldn't move, left one to be specific and something on her collarbone-- she touched them; her fingers came in red.

Another wince.

Her eyes remained shut for few minutes? Hours? Swara was not sure but when she opened them, rain had started to pick pace seeping through the car.

Everything was distant.

She was wet again by the rain, each drop found its own rhythm down the ground. Swara pushed her heavy lids up to see a long road ahead.

Barely half a kilometre to cover, to see him but she was in no state to make even this short journey. Swara's eyes stung as she blinked unseeingly.

Was he still waiting? Such a stupid thought when she already knew the answer. A shiver ran down her spine, it was getting colder.

She hopes he wore something warm tonight, nothing like hers-- the rain seemed to not stop.

Edges of her eyes had already started to darken-- she knew, she was going to sleep. This road; her fingers curled towards it. Swara wished she had met him on time.

She was late, already but for how long? That's something Swara was not sure of now.

~

Ten and thirty.

Sanskaar had settled on the stairs with head hung down. Rain streamed down in streaks over him. It was cold but somehow his heart was even colder.

Swara, still didn't make it here.

No calls or messages to know if something came here way. But that was how he convinced himself- maybe, something urgent came here way. She would come after that.

An hour went, another hour ticked and another also started to pass. Sanskaar's heart found itself cracked with every passing moment.

Ghosts that made presence once in a while was back again with an arrow. Ready to attack. You don't deserve to be loved- was their usual words.

Love?

That was something he once had. For months, for years and suddenly nothing as if a tide had washed away everything leaving memories as scraps.

And scraps do not come in a definite shape. Sometimes it's an edgy dagger or the other day, a poisoned thorn. Nevertheless, they only left him bleeding.

He wasn't the same old Sanskaar back in years. This-- him, lifeless and always distant could not bring the young boy who gave a smile brighter like sun.

That had been the one Swara fell in love with. Not the present him. After the ramp, he ran away from her-- afraid of her reaction, afraid of his own self.

So initiating the talk-- memories that refused to be buried, memories that still haunt was not easy. He had to force out those daggers and thorns of years.

For her. For him.

Backing out would never be the option he'd consider tonight. Sanskaar was ready to wait, drenched in rain or scorched by the sun.

If waiting was a punishment he's gladly accept; to be engulfed and endured.