Altitude

Unsaid News

The dawning sun felt harsh on her bare skin, pinching in through the pores, making them sweat. Running was the favorite part of her morning routine. The tiny droplets tickling down refreshed not only her body but also her mind. Being a vigorous trainer once, she couldn't put her gear down even after a contrast decision had been made, a long time ago.

The past eight days had been hard. With the voice pondering, her nights became restless, draining all her energy. The days were clear water. Attention towards it was minimal as she had her reasons. The morning run was out of the question, yet she didn't want to break the thread. Usually, unlike her working out stranger mates on the road, she accompanied the nature rather than blaring music that drummed the ear canal.

However, her disturbed mind couldn't afford her sense to the chirping sparrows or the chattering nut collectors or the rising orange ball of fire against a ravishingly beautiful lake of the estate. Unfocussed weary eyes, painted in red, shades under them displayed her insomnia.

Her usual ten kilometers task was cut short at three, far worse than the previous day. She couldn't do it any longer. It was too much to bear. Sitting at a park bench on the side of the road she used every morning, she scrolled through her contacts. Spotting the name she was looking for - "Mrs. Chandhrika", she punched the dial and waited for it to be answered.

"Mom... Where are you?" she was abrupt in her question when the call was attended on the third ring.

"Mia, something happened?" Worry was displayed in her mother's voice. They were not the people to contact unless it was extremely important and her urgent question was weird enough. No wonder she was bothered.

Mia rolled her eyes, "Should something happen to call my mom?" She denied her mother's suspicion but actually she called because of the recent events and got caught by her sharp-witted maker. A mother's instinct never failed.

"Stop it already... Make it quick. I've got an errand to attend to..." her tone was calm and content, Mia doubted she was out of her bed that early in the morning let alone 'an errand'?

"Mom, I could hear you snoring there." Mia chuckled, envisioning her mother's crumbling face on her comment.

"Aren't you supposed to be writing or something? Why are you bothering me now?" All the concern hit the rock bottom in a second.

This is how they were. Annoying and fighting each other like Tom and Jerry, in a most comfortable and entertaining way for everyone around them.

"Mom...?"

"Are you at the estate? How is Ishaan baby?" For a spectacular mother, she was a conventional grandmother, her words melting even when she spoke of his name.

Mia chewed her lips formulating a contingency plan to convince her mother to do what she expected. It was not an easy mission. Even from the childhood days, the daughter and her creator's relationship was unlike other conservatives. Mind games played its hand in making one do things that the other wanted.

"Yes, and Ishaan is asking for his grandma!" Mia lied as smoothly as she could.

"Are you sure this grandma here is not that old lady?" She was talking about Mia's mother in law.

"No... The younger one clearly." Mia snorted. "The one rains him down with homemade sweet snacks. If that's not you, then I'd better call my mother-in-law." Mischief was written all over her smirky face.

Mia was daddy's little girl, in analogous to the rest of the World. Even when she was very young, Mia was determined to become like her father, against her mother's will. Chandhrika wanted Mia to become a tennis player, like Steffi Graf, and if possible she could use a top seed as her son-in-law, no matter what his nationality might be, or religion for that matter.

For an Indian mother, she was a bit too much. Nevertheless, it was her dream that went into the deep pit when Mia preferred her father's path like her twin brother - Mithran.

"Fine... I'll see what I can do,"

"Great! Mom, do you remember when dad..." Mia's random question was left unfinished when a beep sound in her ear interrupted her. An unknown number. Wondering who that might be, "Mom, I'm getting another call. Wait a bit!" she switched to the other call.

"Mrs. Mithra?" An unfamiliar voice questioned.

"Yes. It's her." The commotion notified that the mobile was being transferred to another.

"Mia, Peter. I'm at the base camp... I thought you should know..." he stammered.

Peter D. Brant was one of Mia's oldest friends from her old passion. He used to call her from time to time. But this time it felt different. The timing was odd. Her heart stopped beating for a second, imbibing what might be the reason for his hesitation.

"Mia..."

"No... No... Don't tell me..." She stood up from the park bench, hyperventilating, her eyes fluttering like a lost child.

"Mia... Let me explain. It's a storm. Unexpected one at that...! I... I tried my best... But... Mia...? Mia? Are you still there?"

'What am I hearing? Why is this happening to me... again? It's not true... I won't believe it. No... I don't believe it... Please... No...'

Darkness consumed her day, spreading its wings to crunch her under its weight. She stumbled back and sat on the chair, fighting to keep her body in equilibrium. Breathing was impossible. Something got hitched in her throat, suffocating her. Nothing came out of her mouth even if she tried to reply to the bellowing Peter.

"Mia... Come to your senses. Hear me out. Mia?" Peter hollered, trying his best to keep talking and to explain the situation.

But the shock was too much to tolerate. Digesting the unsaid news was hard, yet, somehow she had managed to swallow it. Everything fell into place - the whisper calling her to find it, her sleepless nights, and the gut feeling that said something was wrong. It all made sense.

"Give... Just give me a minute."

Being there in a disheveled condition was not going to help anyone. She needed to clear up her mind, she knew.

"Your first task is to keep your mind clear whenever you're in a panicking situation. Panic... and you'll die the next minute..." lesson from her father from the lost memory dived back in.

Calming down wouldn't happen, still, she tried by concentrating on her breath while Peter waited for her to be back.

After a long minute, "Peter... I'm coming...!" Her tone announced that she was firm in her decision.

With that, she hung up on him and connected to her mother. When she heard the beep sound, "Mom, there's no time to explain. Just get here now... I can't leave Ishaan with the maid."
*****

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