Missed Call

Rocket Raja By Rocket Raja, 28th Jun 2012 | Follow this author | RSS Feed
Posted in Wikinut>Writing>Short Stories

She looked back. Tauntingly or anxiously, he did not know. Nor did he care. But she had looked at him and that was the only thing that had registered in his brain. A diary full of memories rushed to him as if its pages were flapping non-stop on his face. How many bottles of ink he had wasted on her, filling pages every night incessantly with thoughts about her. He knew her for too long to simply return the reception she gave him. He walked up to her and greeted her.

Missed Call


“Rohannnn!!!!! How are you???,” she squealed with false surprise as if she never saw him earlier.

“Life’s good ,” he replied.

“You have been one bad boy Rohan! Why haven’t you been in touch all this while?” she shot, with a cute frown on her face.

But both of them knew that it was far from true. It was just sweet talk they were indulging in to kill time. Dozens of unanswered text messages, strings of incomplete conversations, empty promises and what not. She had given him every sign in the world to stop pressing. But it simply did not sink in. There was a chunk of his brain that he wanted to throw away - The chunk which was full of Sarika. Sarika, and nothing else.

“So it’s really hot here, isn’t it?” awkwardness was writ large on her face.

“Yeah, I didn’t know you were back in town,” asked he.

“Last week only. I thought you’d have known!”

Fake surprise. Again.

“Ah, I guess we aren’t really in touch. So how’s your course going on?” said he, trying to digress, but she clung on.

“Wait a minute? Not in touch!? What are you saying, Rohan? It is such a rude thing to say it straight at my face.”

A puppy dog face was all what it took for the blame to sit on his shoulder. Now, it was his responsibility to shrug it off.


“See, do you really think after all what happened, we could remain friends?” he couldn’t resist asking the question. He had asked her the same question for a long time now, without receiving a serious response. A part of him wanted to catch her by the arm and scream at her to stop toying with him. But greater sense prevailed.
Before she could answer, she was stopped by a cry.

“Oi!” It was Shyam, their friend from school.

It was a pleasant surprise for Rohan, as he hugged him. Nostalgia took over, as the three spoke about sweet memories from schooling for a few minutes.

School was where he met her. School was where he believed that it was humanly possible to like someone beyond limits. School was where he faced rejection. Well, not rejection really, but even worse - Doubt. He wasn’t sure whether his feelings were reciprocated, if he was being ridiculed or sympathised. He wasn’t sure of anything. But that was a long time back.

She tugged at his arm as he looked at her.

“Listen, Shyam’s band is about to perform in ten minutes. The auditorium is just round the corner. I’m going to go watch. Why don’t you join us?”

The ‘chunk’ inside his head almost pushed his legs to follow her, but he overcame the temptation.


“Ah, I wish I could. But I’ve to hurry. Granny’s home alone and I can’t leave her on her own for too long.”

But Sarika wasn’t done yet.

“Sure, but let me tell you one thing. Pick up your phone mister. I’m calling you today as soon as I go home and we talk. We have a lot to catch up on.”

She was going on as if we were best friends who hadn’t met for a couple of years.

“Sure, see ya!” said Rohan as he walked off.

That call didn’t come that night, nor did it the next day. Maybe she was caught up in some work, or maybe she fell sick. But only a week after did he realise.

Mutual friends who knew Rohan liked Sarika, started asking Rohan if they were still in touch. On asking, he found out that she had called every one of them, virtually staying online the entire week. It was then he knew.

The call was never meant to be made. The past seven days flew past, fuelled by expectations of a call. Suddenly, the fog cleared as he thought clearly. He realised he was groping in the dark for 3 years. Calling out for something without knowing where to shout, not knowing if it recognized him. He was put on hold. He was waiting for an answer so that he could move on. But it never came. He realised he should stop calling for an answer.

If it was a missed call that would make him move on, so be it.

He went into the toilet, flushed his diary and the ‘chunk’ of his brain that had pricked him for so long now. Like any other, he went into the toilet, heavy and troubled, and came out lighter and relieved.

Tags

Change, Diary, Disappointment, Flush, Hardened, Love, Reply, Response, Vex, Wait

Meet the author

author avatar Rocket Raja
A teenager with a wandering mind, restless fingers and loads of time. Hoping to do a good job.

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Comments

author avatar Chesart1
29th Jun 2012 (#)

Excellent short story!

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author avatar Rocket Raja
29th Jun 2012 (#)

Thank you!

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