WVMM

Page 1-2

She walks across the shore; her salwar blows in the wind with each falling wave.

She finds a spot beside the stony remnants of a fort that stood hundreds of years ago. She crosses her legs and gently seats herself on the sand. Most of the tides won't reach this far, except for some during the late evening hours.

She allows the salty breeze to blow her hair back, revealing the entirety of her face to the ocean. Her eyes struggle to keep themselves open as tiny drops of water jump into them from the Arabian Sea, almost as if the sea itself awaited the story she was about to read.

From the handbag around her shoulder, she retrieves a laptop, or at least the working remains of it.

The screen bore a diagonal crack from one corner, and was pixelated towards the middle. The body was scratched, dented and the metallic print of the logo had faded entirely.

She had no intention of returning home with that device, for it only had one purpose left in its lifespan, and that was to complete this story.

The display shows his photo. He's wearing a shirt, with a blazer resting on his forearm. She types in her date of birth as the password, and the screen opens up.

She clicks on the notepad, and everything is just how he had left it — so full of hope, love, and dreams. She thinks of the last time he had typed on this keyboard, it felt like a life left behind.

Before she finishes his story, she must first read everything he had written from the very start, twenty years ago.

'Meera, my betrothed, I write this story knowing that this is our last couple of weeks away from each other.'

She doesn't read out loud, but her lips still mouth the words as her eyes trace the words on the screen, and when she does, she can hear him again. The depth of his voice amongst the falling of the waves.

She almost doesn't want to do it; she almost wishes she could throw the laptop away and shut out every memory of him. But she remembers how the story starts, and the look on his face when he first saw her. It was that of instant attraction, the kind they would talk about in fairy tales between princes and princesses.

But she was so much more now. She was a warrior for the way she'd loved, and the way she still does.

She gathered her strength once again, and read what he had written for her decades ago.

Her name was Meera and this was the story of how Varun met her.

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