What we call coincidence is merely life completing its invisible circles. The good, the bad, the forgotten faces — all reappear exactly when they are meant to, teaching us that destiny keeps perfect time
/n
Ten hours on a train followed by another two hours on a bus can completely drain the life out of you. After such a long journey, all you crave is a long, hot shower, a proper meal, and then plenty of rest — maybe even some extra rest, just to be safe.
But my mother had other plans.
Just a couple of hours after I arrived, she dragged me to a wedding.
That’s how I ended up in a nearly empty marriage hall at 5:30 in the evening, two hours before the reception was scheduled to begin, quietly listening to my iPod.
I lazily looked around, trying to spot some familiar faces. I wasn’t new to this place. I had lived here among these people for the first eleven years of my life, before my parents moved away. But that was eight years ago. Things change a lot in eight years. I wondered if people here would even recognize me anymore.
I wondered if ' she ' would recognize me now.
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“Amartyaa!”
I opened my eyes to find my mom standing in front of me.
“Come,” she said. “I want you to meet someone.”
I got up, put my iPod away, and followed her into the bride’s room. It was a small, lively space. The bride wasn’t ready yet and was surrounded by a group of women of all ages. They seemed to be having a great time, teasing and making fun of the bride.
But the chatter stopped the moment I entered the room. The bride turned towards me and smiled warmly.
“My! Look how much you’ve grown!” she said, visibly excited. “The last time I saw you, you were this tall,” she added, holding her hand about three feet off the ground. “Now you look taller than me!”
“Do you remember who this is?” my mom asked me, smiling. I thought for a moment, but couldn’t recall.
“No, sorry,” I replied with an apologetic smile.
Just then, the bride’s sister walked into the room. “ Tai , the car is ready to take you to the parlour…” she said, approaching the bride.
“Wait,” the bride told her sister. Then she turned to us. “Do you remember who this is?”
We stood there staring at each other.
The bride’s sister looked stunning. She was wearing a beautiful white figure-hugging salwar that accentuated all her curves. Her long, jet-black hair complemented the outfit perfectly. When I finally looked at her face, she seemed vaguely familiar, but I just couldn’t recog—
“Wait a minute!” I broke into a smile, as if I had found a hidden treasure. “Navya?” I said hesitantly.
It was her. She was here.
Then I looked at the bride. “Sudha tai!”
Both my mom and Sudha tai were smiling.
“So… you haven’t forgotten us,” Sudha tai said, pulling my cheeks the way she always did. She turned to Navya. “Don’t you remember Amartya? You two used to play together all the time when you were young.”
“Oh! Amartya!” Navya exclaimed. “How are you? Gosh, how long has it been? Eight years?” She stepped forward and hugged me tightly. I hugged her back, realizing how much I had missed her warmth.
“Why don’t you take him to meet your old friends?” my mom suggested.
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