The sky was red, the evening shade of pink and lilac. She was waiting at a traffic signal, waiting for the green light. When she looked up, the shades of the sky began to shift. Almost too quickly that she didn't have seconds to savor the warmth. It was quick, the transformation into a bluish grey loom, the one that stands above, waiting with baited breath to pour down and wash them all away in the rain. Maybe it could have washed the dirt away, maybe it would have washed her weight away if she was in her balcony, her speaker humming with music.
But it wasn't. It was when she was in the middle of a huge road, leading to nowhere, the place they called home. But somehow, that word never seemed to give meaning to her, not for a long time.
The first drops began to fall. She didn't really think too much of it. She was used to rain and withstanding the wind. But what she didn't expect was this, not when the wind speed up, the rains thundered down, with an unseen vigour. It was something beyond, even for her.
She stopped under a metro cover, the ones in a highway, seeing that several people stood there for cover. But as time went by and the water started rising second by second, every centimetre, it began to dawn on her before it hit the rest of the strangers standing there, nothing but the collective fear of overwhelming rain to unite them. She threw her raincoat on, speeding into the rain. The only cover was her room and it was going to get worse. The rain would thunder down all night.
It was bone chilling, every millisecond of it. Chilling her bone, the raincoat didn't help. She was sure that by the time she would reach her room, she would be frozen. Her muscles had already started to harden and as cliche as she thought it would be, she felt her shiver. She saw her shiver in that light glinting off the rearview. She can't hear anything, not the music from her driving earpods. At that moment it's just the harsh sound of rain thundering in her ears.
Everything is a blank line. Point zero. Her scooter could just stop, any moment. The fuel could get over, any moment. Her vision could block out, any moment. Her glasses were already foggy, how she wished for a 20-20 vision. Her shoes are sighed with water. Her pale white shirt is transparent now, ice hitting her.
Thunder overhead. That perhaps was the most loneliest moment, in all her life.
The scooter did break down and she pushed it to her room for two kilometres. The water was getting higher, almost around her ankles. She wouldn't call anyone and put them through all of that, not when it is that late and almost terrifying. That was the moment she stood still, no more energy or will to push through. Her room is still a kilometre away and there is no street light. She could see the dogs at a distance and a new type of terror overtook her. And that moment, it wasn't even the sound of rain. Only her own heartbeat thundering. She wondered how different the same experience was on the other side, the side of a coffee and cheese Maggi on her balcony as 'Born to die' hummed.
Her compound is locked. She almost cried as she jumped into her houses, climbing up the gate. She slipped and fell, crashing on to the hard gravel. She hadn't expected that. She stayed there for a second longer, struggling onto her knees, pushing herself up. Searching for her keys, she finally slipped into her room, after what felt like hours.
Her Christmas light shined bright, dim and gold. She dropped her helmet and bags sagging with water down. Some blood dripped from her nose, from the unexpected crash to the ground. She walked straight to the bathroom, turning the water pipe on. The water is cold but not as freezing as where she came from. Now, as she poured that water on her, the cold water felt warm. She shivered as she rummaged through her cupboard for something to wear, the wind from the fan pushing her bare skin to a shiver. She swore as she switches the fan off. Her skin looked a pale purple, like it was thrashed or beaten. She sighed into that warm cotton shirt, choosing to wear a pant instead of shorts.
Her lips are cracked from the cold and blood seeps out. She wiped it away, the taste rust and salty. She took out a cigarette, trying to do something to not feel so cold. It was difficult to breathe and she hoped maybe a cigarette could heat her lungs up, help them move a little.
That was that moment, when tiredness, exhaustion had a new different meaning. It was new, this edge. That single moment she wished someone was there, to just make some coffee or something to eat. She couldn't stand for one more second and could do nothing to soothe the need for food, the hunger or even the throbbing need for something hot. She slipped into her mattress. Then she threw a sweater on when it wasn't warm enough. Now, at that precise moment, she got a call. It's a friend, someone she couldn't hurt. So she listened to that person speak, rant, even in that extreme exhaustion. Her eyes drooped. So she listened. And when this friend hanged up, she finally threw the phone away.
Atleast came the tears. She felt relieved when they came. Because they were warm and it heated her face a little. She slipped into sleep. The next morning would be something else.
Okay end of story. You know this person, not everyone would like it but she could be a protagonist to a story. You know everyone has a story and everyone can be in a story but not everyone can hold the story on their shoulders. Not everyone can be the view, the eyes and the protagonist. I can count on my fingers the number of people I know who can warrant and justify being a protagonist.
This person, I know her too well. I know when this happened and it was once upon a time in once upon a Chennai.
You wouldn't look at her and straight away see that this story could belong to her. Not even if you know her too well. Not that anyone does. Perhaps only I do.
I enjoy such stories, I don't know if anyone would. But I do find this interesting. It has a sequel.
I think I have written it already. Under the title the loneliest and the strongest or something.
Wow, feels amazing to type it out.
P.S. where the fuck did they find my classmates. From a zoo I guess. Chattering chimpanzees with half baked brains.
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