Unfulfilled

#3

I got off the bridge and then checked my phone. The traffic on footpathless LalPul was bad enough without the stupidity of pedestrians using their phones.
"I don’t know how much longer I can take it for" My phone buzzed. I couldn't hold back anymore, I clicked on the call icon and waited with bated breath. 3 rings went unanswered. I was on the verge of giving up but then I heard a familiar sound. My name sounded that magical only when my parents said it after a felicitation and when he said it. But the sound wasn’t coming from my cell, I took a moment to realise that it was coming from around me. I turned around and saw a 6 ft tall, well built guy approaching me in football shorts and a tshirt stained with sweat. His hair was wet and his breath was ragged. I had seen this attire multiple times. The after effects of a good football match were always messy and sweaty but the satisfaction on his face made up for all the sweaty half hugs. However, the attire and expression didn’t match today. His face was dripping with sweat but the lines traced by freshly wept tears were evident. His football bag wasn't dangling off his arm like always. I assumed that he had returned home after his match but something hurtful made him leave the house. He had jogged up to me by this time and said, "Thank God, you're here. I really needed to meet you now". How sweet those words sounded, but the desperation in them made it difficult for me to revel in my success.
"Something happened at home, right? Is uncle hurting Didi again? Let's take her to my house. I'll explain the situation to my mom as simply as possible.” "Sweetheart, relax. I want to talk to you." "Sure, I'm glad you decided to talk. I'm all ears. I've anyways told mom that I might return home late." "Great, but not here please. Let's go to LalPul, if you don't mind."