The day had been usual – calls, clients, and presentations. Hanging her keys back in place, it was the weekend that made her smile with a sigh. After a shower, she put food from refrigerator in microwave. It had been days since she had had freshly cooked food. Her hectic schedule had locked her cooking skills back in a closet. With a beep of the microwave, she took pasta out and put it in a single bowl. Sitting at the dining table, she had her consolation, the red wine. Sipping down the wine and eating her food, she was reminded of the fact that it had been days that she had received a call from him.
Pasta was his favourite and that too red sauce, cooked by her. He would never appreciate vocally but his request for second serving showed his love for ‘her cooked food’. For her as well, fighting with him for the last spoon of food left was bliss, unexplained.
They both had grown together sharing the same chapters of their stories. Words would fall short to explain their bond. Before one could speak, the other knew exactly what he/she wanted. Sarcasm and wits had been their usual way to address one another. But dare a third person try embarrassing any one; the other would stand in front acting as a shield. And it was again out of childlike competition to see who called the other first that they had not talked for long. And just to win this stupid game, both compromised, to not hear from one another for days.
If he did call (It usually was once in a blue moon) he made sure the call did extend for hours and both would talk their hearts out; a movie, food, places, everything they would discuss. Though it was she who called most of the times to know about his well being, but this time it was her day, he should have called her.
Putting back her dish in the basin, she heard the door bell ring and her phone too buzzed at the same time. She saw the clock strike 12. Receiving the call she walked towards the door. It was her Mom and Dad on the phone whom she thanked for their blessings and said would call in a while as had someone to attend on the door. Opening the door, she saw a courier boy standing with three parcels. The courier boy said, “Ms. Kamya Malhotra, a very Happy Birthday to you”. Surprised, she thanked him and took the parcels in after signing the receiving slip.
One had a cake, other a novel she had longed to read, and the third had a new set of headphones, similar to the ones that he owned. On top of the gifts there was a note attached saying –
“Everything that you need for your Birthday weekend away from family.
Happy Birthday! Loads of love
Ma, Pa and Hritvik
PS – I know a miser like you will never buy anything for yourself. Now don’t crib about the Rakhi gift you didn’t receive. I hope that I compensated.”
Staying miles away, he made sure that she receives the courier just in time. Out of the two, she was the elder one. She had protected him like a mother since their childhood but today he acted like a caring fatherly figure to her. The fights, the harsh words, or the taunts, nothing mattered till the time both had each other’s back. It was beyond a sibling bond, they both had grown up into each other’s best friend, with a promise to hold on to one-another in every situation, no matter what.
A smile and tear in her eyes made it worth his planning while he talked to her on a video call.
Kriti Gohal | PGDM 2016-18