Silence

As the dusk dawned on the city and the punishing sun receded behind the wall of rooftops, leaving just enough light to make things visible to the naked eye, a sudden coolness descended on the city and Johar, like always, went and stood on his balcony. Every evening of this summer, Johar has spent more or less standing on the same spot, watching the blue sky turn darker, into deeper shades till becoming a complete black, and also, Mira, granddaughter of his newly moved, across the gali, old couple. 
Mira, a dark, shy little creature of 16, has in turn, done the same since the night after her family moved into the new house. Every evening as the flushed white sky turned from a royal blue to pitch black in color, she, standing on the balcony has been watching the million little stars twinkling innocently in the sky and the boy across the gali.
Every evening from that first evening, when Johar had seen her, from his balcony standing alone on hers, across the road, they had been coming to the same spot regularly, waving, smiling, gesturing at each other. But never did a word leave their mouth, never did a sound got across the gali.
Johar would wave his hand, beaming, and Mira would lift a limp hand, a pink blush evident on her young face, and within that gesture, Johar would guess that something was wrong and jumping his eyebrows twice slowly, lift his head too and she would slowly turn her dark eyes along with her round face to the other side. Again it would be enough for Johar to know that she was feeling lonely in the new city and he would quickly bring a broad smile on his face and gesture to come to her, at which, arching her eyebrows Mira would shake her head in negative and Johar would look deep into her eyes, and nod once knowingly, closing his eyes for a good second. And by then the sky would turn completely dark and hearing her name being shouted from inside, Mira would rush in, waving, again, the same limp hand at Johar, who would look at her with dreamy eyes.
Every evening the same thing passed, the two across the door neighbors would come to their balconies and do their silent romance, which had every component of a good romance, except sound. But then, one evening, as the bright summer was turning into a golden autumn and the trees had started shedding their dry brown leaves, Johar found Mira`s balcony vacant. Mira wasn`t anywhere to be seen. Not the next day, not even the other or the one after that, and when the day after that too, Johar was greeted by empty sleeping walls, he could not control himself anymore. Running down the steps, he unsteadily crossed the road and with calm, controlled, measured steps climbed the steps of Mira`s house, on the second floor of the building. He knocked at the door thrice, hesitatingly and it was opened by an old woman with, velvety wrinkled skin, and lead straight into a hall, where on an old red sofa, sat an old bearded man, next to her sat Mira, with a terrified look in her eyes. Johar slowly walked up to the old man and using his whole body but not making a sound gestured, which the old man rightly understood as the boy`s desire to talk to the girl. 'Haan beta' he said, noticing the palpable discomfort on his face. Mira in turn, not making a sound, nor hearing any, understood, from the look on Johar`s face and his fidgety hand movements, that he felt uneasy and how much the same he was making her feel.
Like every rejection, that precedes a heart break, this rejection and its subsequent heart break too had all the components of a perfect sad situation, expect sound. As the various colors of the setting sun danced in the sky, Mira gestured Johar to leave. 

A Call

Slowly, like someone who is tired and weary, the footsteps came closer with each desolate step and finally stopped in front of a door, at the end of the gallery, behind which, sat a bearded young man, drinking from a mug, his bloodshot eyes fixed at the door.

 Knock! a single soft rap on the pale brown plywood door was followed by a soft feminine murmur.

Slowly the young man stood up, his face showing signs of absolutely nothing, and opened the door to a young woman, with very short hair, talking on the phone.

'Oh! he opened!' she muttered softly into the mouthpiece, faking surprise, as she entered.

Prison cells are bigger than the room they were in. Four walls, against one was a single bed, next to the door was a book-rack, as was against the wall opposite it, beside which he sat, on a chair, a bottle of cheap rum placed on a table next to him. Three would have suffocated in that room. Two could manage. At least they were managing.

Taking off her jacket, she got into the bed, all the while talking into the phone, in a voice that was part audible, part incomprehensible, while he poured some rum into a transparent disposable glass, diluting it with water, handed her the drink.

'When is the exam tomorrow?....oh...shouldn`t you be..?' she mumbled into the phone, as she took the glass and sipped, slightly making a face.A bright shine came into the young man`s eyes for a moment and then passed. He picked up his mug, drained it and poured himself some more.

Everything was cold and silent, nothing could be heard, as if sound waves had frozen off, apart from the young woman`s soft murmuring and occasional gulps of the man, which increased steadily, following a rhythmic pattern, a pattern which slightly matched the tone of the woman`s voice.

'ummm...I dont know.'

 Pause. Giggle.

'Noooo.'

Giggle. Pause. 

'Okay'

She slowly looked up, the phone pasted on the side of her head, and saw him for the first time since she entered. He was looking at her, with bloodshot eyes, his face devoid of any emotion, dead pan. A light flashed through the eyes of the young woman. 

'umm...drunk'

Pause. Sip. 

'Sitting.' 

Sip.

'Usual.' 

Pause.

'Looking at me.'

She wasn't smiling but the corners of her mouth were tightly shut. He sat there, just as he had, maybe the only change was that he was gulping larger and faster.

'No.' 

Pause.

'Needs a shave. Hair cut too. Probably a bath.' 

Sip. Sip.

'No. He says, he is...' she stopped midway, and speaking a little louder, said,' Can you light me a cigarette?' Picking up a pack of Silk Cuts, he lit two, and passed one to her.

'What?' 

Puff.

'Ah..yes..you know, exhausted, drained.' 

Sip. Puff. 

A look of impatience passed his face, but it again regained its dead pan expression. She noticed it, and her upper lip curled up a little, while she went on muttering into the phone nonchalantly, and he continued looking at her, drinking, smoking.

'He..made it to JNU... yeah... HIM...went and never came back.' she said into the phone, with palpable signs of contempt and bitterness on her face.

Big sip. 

He, suddenly bringing his eyebrows together, said, for the first time, in a very serious voice, more or less talking to himself, 'It`s harder when you don't know if you have to wait or move on.'

A look of pleasant surprise came upon the woman`s face and she stopped talking, a man`s broken voice could be heard coming from the speaker of the phone, dull and digital.

'Are you gonna...haha...imagine it...he has been...close...more than a friend...heart goes out...fucker...'

But no one heard him, no one was listening. Their eyes were locked into each other`s. There was a hint of slight mischief on the young woman`s face, his remained dead pan, but slowly it was changing.

' ...amazingly apathetic...nonchalant junkie bastard...smell of his asshole..'

As if a heater had been turned on, the cold started to leave the room and the frozen sound waves came back to life. Tick of the clock. Heavy breathing sound. The dull thumping of the two young hearts. Rustling of the clothes as they both started taking them off. 

'...you know...better then fucking you...that book-rack...single bed....on the chair...'

The phone was lying on the bed, forgotten, while she stood in the middle of the room, in just her thin tee-shirt. He stood in front of her, one had on her waist and the other holding the mug, which he drained in one go, making a face, and kept back on the table.

'....there?..no?...i know...Fuck well! Make merry!'

and the line went dead.