DIFFERENT SHADES OF HIM (BOOK-ONE)

Part Two.

Part two.

"Child, we have reached," the voice of the driver's uncle informed me, breaking the silence in the automobile. Startled, I blinked, exhaling from my mouth to ease my pounding heart from the unforeseen statement. Having been too lost in my consideration I did not come to realise when time slipped by and we reached our destination already. Glancing outside the window I sighed. Indeed, we had reached. Taking out the given money from the pouch, I gently extended my hand with the money within. So, he could take it, but to my dismay, he refused by shaking his head negatively.

"No child! It's alright. Keep it with you. You would need it," he told me, smiling. 

"No uncle. Please take it. You have not even the slightest idea how much you have helped me, I insist," I told him in Hindi, still holding out the money for him to accept. It was so good to see generosity still alive in some people. My heart swelled.

"No, child, you are like my own daughter. Then how can a father take money from his daughter? How could you expect me to make some money from you? Besides, you have a child with you too. Don't worry about me. Keep the money you would need. I know, child. Go otherwise, you will miss the train," he prompted me to go with an encouraging smile. With eyes vague with tears I insisted again, but as before, he denied it. This time reprimanded me like a child. My heart swelled at his loftiness and endearment. He was such a great person just like my father was. I closed my eyes momentarily. How I miss my papa and his generosity and love, and his adoration towards his family. I admired him like a hero he was and always will till my last breath.

Opening my eyes, I thanked the driver uncle again: "Thank you uncle for driving us here."

He nodded with a smile that was full of care brimming in his eyes for us. Having thanked him I was about to depart for the station from the vehicle when the driver uncle added,

"Take care, child. Have a safe journey," he enunciated with a nod, smiling still. “I hope what you have been going through gets settled soon.” 

I nodded and alighted from the car with a wave of bye at him. He waved back and took off. And I continued on the track of getting inside the hall of Cantt station. Having gotten inside I was met with the crowd- full of energetic yet busy people; some were standing while talking and many of them were sprawled at every corner on the tiled floor wherever they could find some space to sit or even to lean over.

My heart pounded incredulously and restlessly. I had never felt this alone in my life. Never. And with this crowd, I was somewhat nervous and terrified. I breathed hard. Wandering around my panicked eyes for the electronic contraption that must be somewhere, I searched thoroughly through my eyes to be fixed on the telephone I was so frantically searching for. I was vaguely exhausted and somewhat relieved to find the phone sooner than I expected. I, without halting, approached the device across the enormous hall of a huge crowd, breathing somewhat hard with Shaurya tucked safely in my arms. By reaching, I stayed standing for some seconds for my erratic breaths to calm down. Although remaining firm in front of the phone booth, I searched for a few coins in my pouch and to my luck, I got some, enough to talk to my uncle. How thoughtful of her. I thought. She must have known I'd need them. I thanked her, inwardly.

I smiled and wept at the same time. Going inside and dropping the coin on the given coin box, I typed the number of his cell phone furiously and waited for him to pick up the call. Crouching further into the rectangular glass of PCO with my baby brother still asleep on my shoulder, I shut the booth's door to restrain the loud voices of the crowd from coming inside as I waited, waited and waited.

I wanted to cry— wail loudly, even. Perhaps I was, inwardly wailing from happiness and relief at the idea of returning home.

Suddenly it became all too silent. It was nice in the PCO after closing the glass door, I noticed. I could hear the thumping of my own heart. My breathing accelerated with dread when pounding nerves of blood in my veins surged onto my ultrasensitive ears. I was spooked up to my core.

The phone kept ringing and I cried deliberately when my uncle did not receive my call. I was on the verge of breaking down completely. Although I tried again, still I did not get a response to my consternation.

I attempted again. Hope was still brimming inside of me somewhere, somehow.

"Please, please uncle pick up the phone. Please pick up the phone, Uncle. Please pick up the phone. Please. Please. Please!" I chanted the sentence like a mantra from my mouth again and again and repeatedly with hope in my heart. I cried softly when again the phone was unanswered. However, I attempted again. And this time I succeeded as the call was answered. Finally, he picked it up! 

"Hello—?" A very faint but exhausted voice quivered from the other line; what I could only do was sob loudly for quite a time at the vulnerability of the tone.