34. Symbols
34
Symbols
Vihaan
Thirteen Years Ago
V ihaan strolled down the old market lanes, hands in his pocket. Nothing had changed in the year and a half since he’d been away at university. The lively shops that lined each side of the street, the groups of old men sitting on the benches outside with their coffee and newspapers, the hawkers calling out for fresh street food—it was all the same.
With one exception: he was walking these roads alone.
He hated being here, surrounded by memories of Vera. At least in London, he could pretend for a while that he hadn’t been used for money by a girl he’d loved more than anyone else, even himself. Sometimes, he even successfully put her out of his mind while he went about his classes or dragged his friend Arjun to loud parties, the noise of which managed to drown out the last words she’d said to him.
London let him breathe again. Nagpur? Not so much.
He wouldn’t have returned at all, except his mother had demanded it. He’d managed to avoid the places he used to frequent with Vera on this short visit. By this time tomorrow, he’d be back in the UK. Maybe it was this knowledge that had led him to wander into this side of town again.
He’d heard that Vera and her grandfather had left town but standing here, watching unfamiliar faces entering that all too familiar cottage made him feel wretched. No matter how long he stood there, he knew nothing would change. Vera was a phase in his life that had reached a painful conclusion, and he’d do well to move on.
He walked away, each step heavier than the last, eyes sweeping the vibrant gully they often visited, the park they used to meet at, the little mom-and-pop shop where they’d had their first date. He passed the cheery vendor who’d always given Vera extra chillies with her plate of poha, ruefully declining the invitation to grab a bite. He didn’t think he could stomach it.
Before he knew it, he was standing in front of the jewellery store again, looking at the glass display. This was where things had changed. His eyes scanned the inside of the shop, almost expecting to see her there, handing over his gift without care. Maybe he’d stop her this time. Maybe he’d say something to change what had happened.
The ache inside his chest grew yet again, and with a pained sigh, he stepped back, about to leave when his eyes fell on a little box at the base of the window. There, tucked away in a corner beside some vintage rings, in a muted brown box, was the bangle that had once symbolised his love.
The curved edge glinted under the spotlight, as if calling to him to claim it once more .
To what end? The woman he’d have wanted it for was no longer with him. What purpose would it serve now? Just like Vera, this bracelet was not meant for him.
A short while later, Vihaan stared at the slim brown case he’d brought home, feeling like the biggest fool in the world. He dropped it into his dresser drawer and slammed it shut, locking away the only piece of Vera he had left.