The new and old

She was a little tipsy when she held his hand and declared, “I think I like you.”

He was not amused.

“It's okay, you are drunk. A little,” he said.

She bent conspiratorially and said, “Are you afraid?” And laughed.

“No, are you?”

“A little,” she admitted.

She looked at him. The absence she had felt for so long seemed to find its release in the newness of the situation. She had known Anurag for ages. Heck, he was handsome and tough and everything a girl needed. But he was not ready to commit. Not since his on and off ex-girlfriend ended things with him. Neither did she want him. But now...

She leant in and asked, “Do you want to kiss me?”

She had missed the tenderness a kiss sometimes brought forth. Sometimes, the moment could matter, sometimes people just let it slide.

She entangled his hair gently and caressed his hair, sending chills through his spine and longing in hers.

He was a good friend. Would it hurt?

“If you don’t mind, Sangam,” Anurag said.

They kissed, and a while later, they deepened the kiss. Her lips gently touched his, slowly, taking time to sink in a moment of want and need which was, though not stark, a gentle reminder of who they were in each other’s life. Friends. But who knows if they could be more?

Anurag broke the kiss and felt a wave of emotion.

This was Sangam. His friend. For the last two years, and he knew her for another seven.

Sangam looked at him, and traced his fingers on his hand that were now cupping one cheek.

“Don’t worry,” he continued.

“I am not worrying,” she said.

“I think we shouldn’t,” he said.

“Not just yet,” she agreed.

Nevertheless, she was not hurt. She curled into his arms and stayed there. She needed this. And she needed the comfort in knowing that it was not casual, but not quite too serious either.

She wanted something meaningful with the boy she considered to be something in her life.

It was a cinema hall and the movie they had on was the English rendition of the book “Norwegian Wood” by Haruki Murakami.

She broke the hug.

“Do you ever wonder why suicides are so rampant in an advanced country like Japan?” she asked.

“I think it’s because they do so many things up to the mark but still don’t find it fulfilling enough,” Anurag said.

“And moments like these?” Sangam wondered.

“Sangam, this is not a fairy tale, we’re just not sure. If you ever feel the need to die, know that I’m here for you. You’ll find lots of people there for you.”

“I know you’ll be there,” Sangam said.

But mentally she wondered if the bland emptiness with which she filled nothing with every day would lead her to anything.

The movie was coming to an end.

As they prepared to go out of the hall and into the pub again, she noticed a sticker, “Barf here.” She found it amusing, but not relevant enough.

“Let me get us a drink,” Anurag said.

Sangam sat there. She had been exercising recently, which kept her form fit and attractive. She objectively smoothed out her belly fat. It is said mild exercise can help with mild and moderate depression. She Had felt an improvement in her mood since she had made it her habit.

All of a sudden Sangam spotted Firoz enter the pub with a couple of friends who were celebrating their success. Firoz was the popular jock of the class. And her ex.

“Hey, Sangam,” he said to her.

“Hi Firoz,” she replied.

“This is me having won the 100 m sprint,” he gloated.

“Congratulations,” Sangam managed.

“Excuse me, I need to go,” Sangam said and got up from the tool and walked away.

“ I’ll be right outside,” she texted Anurag.

“Actually I am going home,” she texted again.

And in the chill of winter, she walked back home and directly fell asleep.

The next day.

9.58 seconds.

It was the lowest time taken by Bolt when he had bolted in that race.

Sangam was in the crowd, supporting no one (because she had no one to support).

“On your mark –“ “Ready,” Anurag thought.

“Get set –“ “ Steady,” chimed in his mind again

“Go-“ “Go,” And he sprinted.

Deva skipped and fell. He was out already.

It was Then that Sangam spot Anurag and Firoz side by side, one inch apart from each other, fiercely competitive, blasting past each other.

Anurag had come to participate in the race!

Anurag grit his teeth and went on. A hundred meter sprint would take him around 11 seconds to finish.

This was important.

Then something happened.

Meiji, who had a son in the stands crossed him and Firoz in a flash and before they knew anything, the race was over.

Yet Meiji kept on running even after crossing the finish line.

Right into the stands.

Where his 12 year old son was having an absence seizure.

There was an uproar and a little boy who had stopped him from falling midway as he had gotten up to cheer for Meiji became the saviour of the day.

Meiji bowed, holding his son close to him.

“Arigato,” Meiji said. (Thank you).

The crowd cheered.

Firoz came in second.

And Anurag came in third. At 10.98 seconds.

Firoz looked devastated.

Anurag bowed and held his knees with his hands for a moment.

Sangam pushed through the crowd into the field.

Anurag waved at her.

Sangam smiled.

“I lost,” Anurag said.

“That you did,” Sangam said.

“ Perhaps sometimes things are fulfilling as well,” she said looking at Meiji.

Anurag smiled.

“You got me there.”

“I want a baby,” Sangam said.

Anurag was surprised.

“But not yet,” Sangam laughed.

“And not with me, perhaps,” Anurag said quizzically.

“We have a lot of time. By the way, the race was supposed to be for you.”

That we do...

The race was supposed to be for you, his words stuck with her...

“Thank you,” Sangam said sincerely.

No need to rush. No need for anything else. Let us just focus in the present.

Calm.

And a little dose of a little more than a friendship was there.

Sangam interlinked her hands through one of his arms and walked away together.