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The Leftover Lives of Lawrence

It's a thrilling journey that plunges deep into the lives of six individuals who are about to embark on the rollercoaster ride of a lifetime at Lawrence, the prestigious institution that holds secrets and surprises at every turn. Brace yourself, as we pull back the curtain to reveal the diverse backgrounds, hopes, and struggles of these captivating characters. Together, we'll explore the labyrinthine corridors of friendship, self-discovery, and the relentless pursuit of dreams. Get ready to be enthralled by the electrifying twists and turns, as these characters navigate the treacherous waters of college life, unearthing hidden truths and unmasking their true identities. With themes of ambition, love, and the tangled webs of human connections, the narrative will leave you yearning for more, eager to unravel the mysteries that lie within The Leftover Lives of Lawrence.

BabaYagga · Realistic
Not enough ratings
9 Chs

Chapter 1. The Dawn

Nandita ascended the staircase, pausing to absorb the vibrant scene before her—a long, narrow corridor alive with a tapestry of fresh faces, each radiating a sense of anticipation for the unknown. Strangers swiftly forged connections, exchanging chance greetings and engaging in fleeting, lighthearted conversations. Standing there, she reveled in the thrill of unraveling the metamorphosis her college had undergone.

Amidst the bustling crowd, Nandita became a witness to a fortuitous encounter between two new students. With excitement, one exclaimed, "Oh, this must be my room; I have the note."

"I received the same one," replied the other.

Their eyes locked, and in that fleeting silence, they both fumbled with the note. "I guess we're roommates!" one of them proclaimed, igniting a surge of curiosity and questions.

"I'm a first-year business major," declared the shorter of the duo, casually tossing her luggage.

"How intriguing! I'm also a first-year student, majoring in Chemistry," responded the taller companion, observing her roommate's carefree disposition.

Amidst a whirlwind of inquiries about backgrounds, classes, and schedules, Nandita began to venture further, immersing herself in the changes and rediscovering familiar places. She watched as new students settled into their temporary nests, their sanctuaries for the next three years. Glancing at the door labeled "Room No. 16," she noticed the refined embossed letters and numbers, a step up from the painted signs. Glass panes adorned the windows, and the doors now bore graceful arches. As she marveled at the transformations, a lingering thought tugged at her—how much would forever resist change?

Nandita couldn't help but swell with pride at her fourteen-year-old son Sameer's choice of Lawrence as the subject for his annual literature report on Memoirs. She had regaled him with tales of Lawrence's glorious past and promising future, captivating him with its rich tapestry of eventful episodes. Sameer's insatiable curiosity and insightful nature had always warmed Nandita's heart.

Now, Sameer stood on the hallowed grounds of his dream school, enveloped in the euphoria akin to unwrapping a long-awaited gift. Silently, he made a solemn vow to himself that he would return one day and fulfill the dreams his mother had never been able to achieve.

Gazing through the window of an empty Room No. 16, Nandita's attention shifted to the bustling field outside—a vibrant tapestry of workshops, vendors, and exhibitions. Amidst the flurry of activity, a majestic banyan tree stood tall and unwavering, an enduring symbol of stability. Memories surged within Nandita's mind, resurrecting untold stories and fostering a sense of distant yet palpable connection. A chill coursed through her veins, momentarily freezing her in time, until her instinct propelled her to reach for the window latch. An approaching voice, eerily similar to her own, interrupted her thoughts.

"Are you all right, Maa? I've been searching for you!" Sameer's concerned voice shattered the silence. From the hostel auditorium window, he had noticed his mother's absence during the new-student orientation. Nandita had meticulously timed their visit to coincide with the orientation, affording Sameer a firsthand glimpse of a fresh start. The hostel warden, eager to reunite with Nandita after over a decade, had graciously accommodated their request. Sameer looked at his mother, her mind adrift, lost in contemplation.

"Maa, is everything alright? Would you like something to eat? There's a cafeteria just outside..." Sameer began, concern lacing his words.

"I know where it is," Nandita interjected, a hint of defensiveness coloring her tone.

Raghu's Café was no more, now replaced by "Hideout." Nandita couldn't help but question the choice of name. "No one needs to hide; they simply crave a cup of coffee and a sanctuary to unwind," she mused aloud.

"Maa, does it really matter? It's just a cafeteria, right?" Sameer cautiously chose his words, attuned to his mother's emotions. He had always possessed an astute observation and empathy, reminiscent of Nandita herself.

"You're right," Nandita conceded.

While awaiting their drinks, Nandita noticed a short, plump man seated at the counter. Though too old and diminutive to be Raghu's brother, a trace of resemblance lingered. Curiosity piqued, she approached the counter, intending to inquire about Raghu's whereabouts.

"He sold the shop two years ago and disappeared. No one knows where he went. I took over from him," the man explained when queried about Raghu's current location.

"Oh," Nandita sighed, a mélange of nostalgia and disappointment intertwining within her.

"Thank you," she murmured before retreating to their table.

Mother and son sat in contemplative silence, each engulfed in their own thoughts—a convergence of dreams and broken aspirations. Sameer broke the stillness, reminding his mother of her promise to attend the reunion the following day. "My story would remain incomplete without the reunion," he insisted. "And you don't have to go just for me, you know," he added, a knowing smile gracing his lips. Nandita glanced at Sameer, his netbook displaying an open, unformatted Word document. "Is that it?" she inquired.

"No, Maa, that's not it," Sameer replied, a smile dancing on his lips.