RAIN ...A blinding flash of light momentarily illuminated the darkened sky. The crackle accompanying the lightning was followed by a low rumble in the distance. Soon, the first droplets of rain began to tease her. She revved up her scooter, determined to reach home before the drizzle gave way to a downpour. She was still on a vast stretch of highway and there was no place that could have offered her shelter. She had another 2 kilometers to go before she could turn off the highway.
The traffic was relatively light that Sunday evening. As she trundled along in her scooter an occasional SUV or sedan would roar past her, reminding her how far her life was from the fast lane. Perhaps I can soon upgrade to a Nano, she consoled herself. So, what if I add to the air pollution? I'll start a campaign for those stinking rich drivers of luxury marques to switch to hybrids or downgrade to humbler means of transportation, she reasoned.
Soon she reached the exit to her home. As she turned off the slip road, she noticed that a white Suzuki Wagon had stalled on the roadside. Ah, so it's not only scooter riders who need shelter from the rain, she thought gleefully. A strapping man was standing beside the car and frantically waving with two hands to flag down motorists passing by. A monstrous truck lumbered past him, splashing him with water from the potholes in the road.
As she passed the man he was still flinching from being splashed. Suddenly she slammed her brakes involuntarily and turned around to take a closer look at him. Her heart began to palpitate as she realized it was him. As she continued staring at him, he looked up and spotted her. Flushed with embarrassment, she quickly turned around and started her scooter again. But she couldn't bring herself to move on. From the corner of her eye she could tell that she was still being watched.
I'm sure he will be able to catch a ride from someone else, she assured herself. Before long, the tow service should arrive and he should be able to leave. But a counter-discourse was also playing in her mind. What if the tow service takes another hour to get here? What if no one stops for him in the meantime? What if he catches a chill? No, I can't leave him here. Her conscience prevailed.
She slowly began to reverse her scooter and stopped alongside him. Durai looked at her quizzically, his brows characteristically furrowed. His drenched white shirt revealed the contours of his body. His jeans were splattered with mud, as were his sneakers.
"Hi," she muttered.
He reciprocated her greeting with a grim "hi". It wasn't the usual "Hi Priya" in the soothing voice that always made her melt.
"Come, you are getting wet; you'd better come to our house and wait for a while as it will pour soon," she said.
"That's OK, Priya. You'd better carry on and get home before the rain starts."
He looked a pathetic sight, water dripping from his hair. Priya simply had no heart to leave him behind. "No, Durai. I insist. Get on the scooter," she persisted.
"But …" as he spoke, the rain came gushing down, forcing Durai to scuttle towards the scooter. He placed one hand on the handle at the rear end of the scooter and quickly got astride the seat. As he gently placed his other hand on her shoulder, Priya shuddered and slid forward.
"We'd better hurry. Can you ride? Or do you want me to ride?" Durai asked.
"No, I am fine," replied Priya and put her foot on the accelerator. As she hit full throttle, Durai jerked forward. She felt his wet body grazing against hers before he pulled back.
Priya meandered through little back lanes. She could feel Durai's breath against her nape. The silence between them was punctuated by the occasional tooting of horns and growls of thunder.
Within 10 minutes, they reached the RK residence. Before Priya could bring the scooter to a halt, Durai mumbled a thanks and jumped off it. He stood by the doorway as Priya parked the vehicle.
"What a pleasant surprise! Come in, come in. You're thoroughly drenched," Shanthi raced towards the door. Looking over Durai's shoulder, she noticed Priya parking the scooter and smiled mischievously at him.
"Sorry, Shanthi Madam. I came without notice. My car stalled on the road and Priya kindly gave me a ride," explained Durai.
"No problem, Durai Sir. Please take a seat. I'll call Karthik. Priya, get Durai a towel and a change of clothes. I've just brewed some tea and I'll get him some."
Priya ran upstairs, knocking into Karthik, who was responding to Shanthi's call and coming down to greet Durai. "Durai is here. He got wet in the rain and I am going to get him one of your shirts," Priya announced to Karthik, who was rather bemused. He noticed that Priya's hair and clothes were themselves soggy. Her excitement seemed to have made her totally oblivious to her own state. "You'd better get a change of clothes yourself before you catch a chill," Karthik shouted back as she disappeared into his room.
As soon as she had fished out a kurta and veshti from Karthik's cupboard, she ran to her own room to get a towel. She started sliding back the mirrored door of her closet to reach for a towel. It was just then that she noticed a total wreck staring back at her. Her wet hair was plastered to her head. Her sticker pottu remained steadfastly in place but her powder foundation was blotchy now and macara was starting to ooze down her cheeks. To her horror, she noticed white bra straps showing from behind the wet black blouse that was clinging to her skin. "Oh, darn! I should have worn a black bra," she grimaced.
Her heart was racing with excitement as she stripped off her wet clothes and surveyed the closet. Wiping herself dry, she quickly got into a black and orange suit, which had once caught Durai's attention. She rubbed off the mascara with her saliva and tissued off the excess. Then she plastered on some powder and whipped out the hair-dryer. The hot currents blowing out from the hair dryer evoked memories of Durai's breath against her nape. She closed her eyes and gently ran her fingers through her hair. Soon, she was transported back to the scooter ride. She felt the warmth of Durai's body nudging towards her. His arms tightened around her waist. His moustache was caressing against her cheeks.
Slowly Priya opened her eyes and looked into the mirror. The Durai who had locked her in a tight embrace in her reverie was no more. Instead, a forlorn image materialized before her. He was shivering by the doorway, his transparent white shirt clinging to his body, his blue jeans drenched and his hair totally disheveled.
Oh my God! I'm so selfish. I'd better rush a towel and change of clothes to him, she said to herself and ran downstairs.
Karthik and Shanthi were sitting on the couch sipping tea. Priya looked around the living room. There was no sight of Durai. She ran into the kitchen to check whether he was there. He was not.
"Anni, where's Durai?"
"He's left," replied Shanthi.
"What?" Priya was nonplussed.
"Yes, he's left," repeated Shanthi.
"But, why .. how … " Priya's voice was choked.
"He borrowed my car. He will return it tonight," Karthik explained.
"Couldn't he have waited?" Priya was now blinking back her tears.
"We asked him to stay for dinner but he said he had a dinner appointment with a colleague and left."
Priya muttered something unintelligible and rushed back to her room. Dinner with a colleague? What colleague, she wondered. Could it be Jamuna? Why was he so grim-faced? Does he hate me? Is he going to marry Jamuna after all? Oh, no … don't let it be; I didn't really mean it when I suggested he marry Jamnua. Oh, God, please no … she sobbed uncontrollably as she buried her face in her pillow.
Edited by Bonheur - 16 years ago
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