METRO STATION, PUNE

MARCH 2011

'Why fifty? We agreed on thirty-five before I sat in your auto. I pay only Rs 35 every day. I can pay Rs 5

extra, that too because I am running late for work. That is all I have, ' I almost screamed at the auto wallah

Who was in no mood to leave the golden opportunity of further spoiling my already spoilt morning. He seemed to have sensed that I was late for something. He asked me for Rs 50 instead of the usual thirty-five, and

when I paid him the same at the end of my ride,he asked for more.

'There was so much traffic, madam ji.' his response was quick and we'll- rehearsed. He smiled at me, putting all his teeth and part of his gum on display. I assumed that the motive behind this act was to earn some extra bucks early in the morning. If he cared for my opinion, I would have advised him not to open his mouth in a way that showed his tabacco- stained teeth, in public places or he could be jailed for terrorizing people with his fangs. His teeth were definitely more than the required number, packed and clustered in his regular- sizes jaw, overlapping each other. I quickly took my eyes off his mouth to stop the uncalled-for scrutiny and started searching my bag to see if I had any more cash on me.

I was running very late for work that day, which was also my first day of working with my new manager. I wondered if I was going to be able to retain my job after creating such a bad impression with my delayed entry at the office. It was an open secret that my manager was a strict guy. He loved taking disciplinary actions so much that they could even be described as his work hobby. I feared that I would be kicked out of my job, without much discussion, only a few days before I had a chance to use my newly delivered debit card for the first time. Surviving in a financial firm was tough for a fresher, tougher if you knew nothing and were always late. I belonged to the second category of course.

My name is Adira Roy., and I am not a singer; thought I wished to be one when I was 10 years old. I love singing whenever I'm sad or alone. Singing keeps my soul calm,and makes me relex.

When I was in college I use to sing in our college garden, even my friends appreciated my singing, In college I was an introvert person, In fact, most of my life I have had only two very good friends.

Both of them are the people I have spent most of my life with-----my childhood friends. But I shall talk about them later.

So I searched frantically and found not a single penny in my bag. However, I did manage to scoop out five Rs 1 coin from the secret pocket in my bag. Other than my laptop and metro card there was little else I could find.

'I do not have money,' I told the auto driver one last time, with a helpless eye.

He looked at my palm with one shiny coin in it. 'Then I will take this Rs 5 more,' he declared shamelessly. With no other option in sight, I handed over my only asset to him off my back.

'This day is the worst day in the history of all the bad days I have had in my life,' I mumbled to myself, climbing up the deserted stairs. No, the metro station was not deserted, it was full of commuters just like any other day, but most commuters preferred the escalator over the stairs. Hence, I was amongst the few climbing up the stairs. I reached the automated doors at the entry, and put my hand in my bag to pull out my metro card. Nothing. Where is it? I wondered, and panicking

I frantically searched in my bag, It was not on me.

Where was it? I remembered seeing it a little while ago and thought hard to remember where it could be.

'Shit!' I exclaimed, trying to recall the last time

I'd seen it. Then u remembered that I had seen it outside the station when I'd opened my bag for the wretched auto wallah. 'It must be fallen out of my bag then. I will never find it now,' I despaired and dashed down the stairs. Dropping something in Pune and hopping to find it seconds later is too much wishful thinking. I'd lost the card loaded with Rs 180.75. If I ever caught even a glimpse of it in my lifetime, it would be miracle.

Worried and scared, I frantically searched for the card on the stairs and then on the footpath. It was nowhere to be seen.

'Shit, shit,shit!' I knew saying it thrice made nothing right, yet three times the usual shit was the only way to describe my situation at the point------stuck outside a metro station penniless and late for work.

I turned around, contemplating a walk back home. It was going to be a very time--consuming and tiring affair, but as they say----desperate times need desperate measures. I live close to 9 km away from the metro station, and I am not a good athlete, not was I back then. But a poor girl should walk, I told myself, and looked back at the stairs with a small ray of hope still flickering in my heart.

The deserted stairs were not deserted any more; a boy standing on the second step talking to someone over the phone. I was standing five steps away from him. I noticed that he had rings in his three fingers and I recognized one of them----- the gold ring on his index finger with a silver sapphire in it. His glowing face with his beard set and well groomed, dressed in black shirt with denims, followed by pair of shoes, tall, dark, charming face with muscular body, he looked absolutely stunning and handsome. I was going to be late for work and was most definitely going to lose my job, but I froze when I saw him. His hair, his posture, the way his hands moved, made me skip more than a few heartbeats. I knew him.

In my head, a Lata Mangeshkar song was about to be played in the background, and I was inches away from drifting into a dream song and bursting into a dance sequence,when suddenly I spotted it, in first step of the stairs----- my metro card! Well, it was a metro card and could have been mine or someone else's. But as long as it had enough money on it to take me to my destination. I did not care whose card it was.

I walked towards him to take the metro card as I reached there, he suddenly sees me. Our eyes met, his dark brown eyes, and within a flash of a moment it was 2009 again.

'Piyush?' his name fell out of my mouth abruptly, and he looked at me as if I were a psychopathic stalker.