Monsoons in Moosorie is as pleasant as torture. The temperature drops with continuous rain. And one can't miss those water scarcities. Apparently, the drains get block here, causing no water supply for days sometimes.
Even with all this, Amaya Kareem is walking as fast as she can with the heavy umbrella and those gum boots.
"I swear Amaya, if your boyfriend doesn't pick up the phone today, I'm personally going to give him a price of mind the next time. I'm freezing here."
"Noushi can you just keep that mouth shut and walk a little faster. We need to go back to hostel as soon as possible."
"...Then why the hell did you ask me to come with you in the first place."
".. I have to talk to him today... It's important."
"What if he doesn't pick up even today?"
"Then I will try again tomorrow."
"...Again?"
"Again, and even not tomorrow I will try the next day, again. I will keep on trying until he picks it up."
"And why so? Amaya, I think you get it by now, he is deliberately not picking up those calls. You have been trying for a week now."
"Because I don't want to lose a battle without even fighting it."
"Amaya, love is not a battle."
"But life is, Noushi, and for people like me, we have to fight for everything, every day, every moment. It's either we fight or we won't survive.
And here I'm fighting with something I needs the most."
"And what if he doesn't want it anymore."
"Then I lost."
"..Then"
"Then I will rise again. Losing something means there's something better waiting for you. So, if I lose him, I know there will be something better for me.
But that's when I lose my battle after giving my cent percent. If I fight it till the end. I just hope one thing though."
".. And that is?"
"That at the end of the battle all these will worth it, worth fighting for."
"And I just hope one thing for you." Amaya passes her friend a questioning look.
"At the end of it, you win or lose doesn't matter, but just don't lose yourself Amaya Kareem.
Some people are worth it all.
And some aren't.
I just hope your boyfriend belongs to the first kind."
Amaya smiles, keeping a note in the mind. While fighting a battle for his love, don't lose yourself in it.
Noushi is good at reading people, too good for her own good sometimes. She knows there is something in her boyfriend that doesn't go well with any of them, not even with her. But she is in love with for two years now.
She had lived her fifteen summers back in London, and three summers here in Dehra, where she found him for a year. And in that year, she lived, loved, been happy, laughed, in that year she had come to know, how love can make us do things, crazy things.
So here she is, doing crazy thing yet again. As they reach the booth, Amaya dials a familiar number, nine four three four eight three five nine seven nine, as usual, her hands tremble a little.
Even after dating him for three years, she is still scared to call him. That person is her sweetest dream but ....
After trying for the third time, she is ready to leave.
"Beta harr roz kisko call karti ho? Woh toh roz phone nahi uthata."
Even the lady sitting there on the booth feels sorry for her.
Amaya Kareem is quite a known face in the locality. Living here for four years, playing with native children, teaching them sometimes and enjoying with them most of the times.
Even in this rain, she once drenched while dancing, as per her, 'she is living the moment'.
"Ghar per Aunty." She whispers, making a wish, for him to be her home.
"Woh ghar nahi beta jaha dil na ho, waha tum sirf, tumhari koshis hai sirf, aur aisa ghar nahi bante."
Giving her a sad smile, she tries again, this time her luck works, the person on other side picks up the call.
"What?"
"I ... How are you?"
"I am good. Why did you call?"
"I wanted to talk about something"
"I'm a little busy now."
"Please just for some time?"
"Fine..."
"...It's my farewell next week and then..."
"...Then you are coming back here, and we will be living together."
"I know but you haven't met Maa"
"I will once I gets the job Baby, till then I need you by my side."
"I'm here with you."
"I have to go now."
"But. you said you will talk to me."
"I really have to rush; Haider Bhai is calling me. Bye."
"Please just for some more minutes."
"Don't be a brat now. I have to go."
"I won't talk to you then"
"I really don't care"
"Are you kidding me?"
"I'm not, I can stand without talking to you."
"You afford to do that, to live without me?"
"I do afford that." The call is cut, without even her consent.
It was never about her like always, it's always about him, like always.
Years ago, someone promised her to give her share of happiness, something she was not even looking for. But she got it in him, in his love. He gave her a home like feeling even though he was never home.
And then things happened, like any other love which never dies of a natural death, her love died too, some parts were choked by him and others was drowned in betrayals, a betrayal that left a much deeper scar, perhaps a prominent one. Along with that she left her little home like feeling, apparently her share of happiness too.
Amaya never asked anyone for anything, but from him she had, and maybe that's what she thought her mistake lies, she asked someone for something, and what she got was simply a hell she wants no one to suffer from.