The Accident

She grated the lemon zest over the bowl of pasta. Penne, white sauce, the scent of oregano, basil, thyme and now the crisp fragrance of the lemon. This was bliss. She clapped her hands in glee and smacked her lips in delight as she carried the bowl to her bed. The prospect of a gripping Game of Thrones episode coupled with creamy pasta made her very happy indeed.

She slid the case files to the side of the bed with a sweep of her hand. The files seemed to clamour for attention, one even slid down to the floor on the other side of the bed. But Aaliya was in no mood to humour them right now.

“Oh, I am not picking you up right now”, she sang aloud to no one in particular.

She straightened the sheets a little, flicking her eyes at the laptop screen. The buffering was complete. She thanked the stars for such a rare treat on her lousy connection. The lights dimmed, she settled down cross-legged on the bed, cradling the bowl of pasta in her lap, and hit ‘play’.

She loved the zephyr grazing past her face as she zipped down the road on her scooty. Her feet pressed the accelerator and her scooty zoomed faster on the wet glistening road. The only thought on her mind was that she had to get home before Aaliya called tonight and spoilt the new Game of Thrones episode for her. She smiled behind the dupatta covering her face as she thought of Aaliya. She loved that girl, but her insistence on giving away spoilers drove Sana nuts!

Her thoughts flitted across to the impending Bastard Bowl, her peripheral vision scarcely registering the blue Swift overtaking her from the left. She was approaching the end of the divider when the car veered right for a u-turn. The flash of blue in front of her jerked her out of her reverie. Sana knew in her head it was too late, but nevertheless, she hit the brakes.

The phone started ringing just as Rikon started his stupidly straight run towards Jon, across the icy plain. Arrows flew past, narrowly missing Rikon, as she sat gripping her pasta bowl with both hands. The ringtone went on and she jammed the headphones deeper into her ears to drown it out. But the
phone would not shut up. And just as the arrow struck home, she paused the show in shock.

“Who the hell runs straight, damn it!!” she screamed, as she picked up the phone.

The call was maybe two minutes long. All Aaliya remembered of it as she grabbed her keys and raced down the stairs were ‘Sana’, ‘accident’ and ‘hospital’. She didn’t think she recalled which hospital even. The lift was not fast enough for her today, she could not keep still; and hence the stairs which
she jumped two at a time. On her lips was the constant refrain of, “Oh please let her be ok...” as her car tore through the evening traffic.

She barely noticed where she was going, eyes misted with tears threatening to spill over. She almost didn’t see the lights at the crossing change to red; almost hit the car in front. Almost, but not quite. As the lights turned green, she put her heart into driving away images of a bruised Sana. She kept her eyes on the road, knuckles white in concentration as she gripped the
steering.

The gentle zephyr that grazed Sana’s face had now turned to a heavy downpour that angrily whipped Aaliya’s features as she dashed from the hospital parking to the reception.

“Sana Thakur?” she almost yelled at the nurse in the lobby, her anxious voice making the question apparent.

“Room 204, second fl...” the nurse trailed off, because Aaliya was already on a mad dash up the stairs. She raced through the second floor corridor, her head going, “201...2...3...” She skidded to a halt outside 204. She saw Sana’s face wrapped in bandages, her lip swollen, a cut near the eye; and all she could think of was that she had never seen a prettier face. But for all her reckless haste from halfway across the city, she could not bring herself to enter the room now. She lingered at the door, wringing her hands.

The doctor came out and started talking to her. Once again, her mind registered just a few words “lucky... in time...blood loss...be ok”. The doctor patted her shoulder and went down the corridor.

Aaliya dragged her feet upto the hospital bed, forced herself to gaze at the cuts on Sana’s face. Her arm had a plaster cast, legs marred by deep cuts, now wrapped in more bandages.

“I told her a million time not to drive in those damn skirts, but she doesn’t listen”, Aaliya muttered angrily to herself.

But then she found her lips tilting into a little smile as she recalled it was Sana’s stubborn refusal to listen to others that brought them together in the first place. That, and the rains.

She sat down on the chair by the bedside and watched the IV fluid drip down the plastic tube. She let her mind wander and soon the drops of IV became a light drizzle. Sana’s face appeared through the watery haze.

There she stood, two bags in her hand and a worried expression on her face as Aaliya’s car came through the gate. Aaliya’s mind was busy preparing the bullet points for tomorrow’s presentation when the pretty forlorn face suddenly scattered them in the rain. She asked what was wrong and the girl replied, but Aaliya scarcely heard a word.

“Can you help me out?”, the girl had asked and the ring of desperation in her voice had pulled Aaliya back from her reverie.

“Help...oh yes..of course”, mumbled Aaliya, as she threw open the car door for her to enter.

Aaliya never knew how that night turned to dawn. After the initial hesitant sentences, they got along like a house on fire. She completely sympathised with Sana’s decision of leaving home to become a painter. She knew how it felt when your parents were dismissive of your life choices. Sana had come
here to stay with an aunt, but she was out of town and now Sana had nowhere to go. Aaliya had offered to put her up till her aunt returned, and thus began their story.

That was six months back. In that time, Sana had found her footing in the city and also, her own little apartment. Aaliya remembered the house warming party they had, and the bright yellow helmet she had gifted Sana.

“It’s gonna make me look like minion!” she had moaned.

And sure as hell it did, once coupled with Sana’s round rimmed glasses. But all Aaliya could think was that she had never looked cuter.

A faint murmur drew Aaliya back into the present, into a reality where Sana was hurt and she was filled with fear and regret. Sana was stirring, coming back to consciousness.

Aaliya had fought with herself for six months, always consoling herself with the concept of the “right time”. But it was now or never. It was too important to wait for the right time.

She had decided, but the enormity of her decision paralysed her. By the time Aaliya gathered enough courage to move, Sana was already looking at her intently. As their eyes met, Aaliya was surprised to see the calm invitation in Sana’s eyes, and a smile on her cut lip.

Aaliya walked up to the bed and welcomed Sana with a kiss. A kiss that held a confession, an acceptance, and a promise, all at once.

“How long have you known?” asked Aaliya, as they broke apart.

“With you, always”, smiled Sana.