Read Online THE ONE YOU CANNOT HAVE by Preeti Shenoy - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Preeti Shenoy
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flight to catch in a few hours from now. I have no intentions of seeing her again. So I crumple it up and toss it in the bin, thinking that I must be the only guy on planet Earth to toss away a girl’s number, which she has so willingly given me.
I log in to my laptop and clear a few pending things. There is a report which has to be sent out before noon today. There are a few mails to be replied to. I also have to go to office and hand over the security key tags and clear my desk.
I reach office and as I walk along the cobbled streets of Norwich in my heavy overoat, I pass all the familiar landmarks—the Norwich Millenium Library, the marketplace, Jarrolds where I have spent many afternoons, Pret a Manger where I have had lunch so many times, the buskers who sing at street corners, the artists who display their paintings on the fence of St Peter Mancroft Cathedral and the flower shops that have the loveliest of flowers—my thoughts instantly go to Shruti. She loved flowers. Each time I pass the flower shops in Norwich, I think about how she would have loved it and almost instantly I push it out of my mind. I realise that a part of me will definitely miss this town which gave me such a lot, these last two years.
But another part of me also longs to be back in my own country. I will not need these heavy coats there. I long for street food like chaat and piping hot ragda pattice which you do not get in Norwich at all.
Finally, I reach office and when I log in, there is a mail from Anjali. She has actually asked me out on a date.
I smile. Maybe that is just what I need. A nice distraction from all these thoughts of Shruti which are clinging to me stubbornly, refusing to leave me in peace.
I draft a reply to her telling her that I would love to join her on Monday evening and I hit send.
I get her reply almost instantly.
‘Oh, lovely! Looking forward to it!’ it reads and I smile at her enthusiasm and bubbly nature.
Later, Mark drops me off at the bus station. There are coaches that drop you off at Terminal Five at Heathrow airport, which is where I will take my flight to India. I prefer the bus to the train, as taking a train will mean changing trains at Liverpool and I do not want to lug my rather large suitcase and my shoulder bag.
Finally I board the plane to India and I have got a seat right in front, just behind the business class section. I peep in and it looks so comfortable and cozy compared to the economy class where we seem to be packed like sardines. I look longingly at the people who travel business class and think to myself that I will some day get there.
I finally settle down for the eight-hour flight. I realise that I need to fully exorcise Shruti from my system. There cannot be any more mooning around for her.
She has moved on and so should I.
The more I think about it, the more my head tells me that Anjali is exactly what I need right now. But my heart still refuses to listen.
Shut up heart. I have had enough of you.
Of course, I have no idea about what lies in store. I think about how badly I am looking forward to finally being in India. I have no idea that the saying, ‘The road to hell is paved with good intentions’, is about to come true. I have no idea what I am setting myself up for. And so I drift off into a peaceful sleep, presuming that I am starting a new chapter in my life, not knowing that at times, the unfinished ones come back and haunt you, dance on your head and suck every darn thing out of you, till you are reduced to a jumbled mess of nothingness.
Chapte r 9
Shruti
I do not know what to say and so I remain silent.
‘There is something you are hiding from me, Shruti. I asked you a simple question. Who is Aman and why haven’t you told me about him all this time?’ Rishabh’s tone is low and controlled. As though he is holding himself back.
I do not know why I feel guilty. After all, it is not as though I have cheated on Rishabh. Rishabh’s tone has
I log in to my laptop and clear a few pending things. There is a report which has to be sent out before noon today. There are a few mails to be replied to. I also have to go to office and hand over the security key tags and clear my desk.
I reach office and as I walk along the cobbled streets of Norwich in my heavy overoat, I pass all the familiar landmarks—the Norwich Millenium Library, the marketplace, Jarrolds where I have spent many afternoons, Pret a Manger where I have had lunch so many times, the buskers who sing at street corners, the artists who display their paintings on the fence of St Peter Mancroft Cathedral and the flower shops that have the loveliest of flowers—my thoughts instantly go to Shruti. She loved flowers. Each time I pass the flower shops in Norwich, I think about how she would have loved it and almost instantly I push it out of my mind. I realise that a part of me will definitely miss this town which gave me such a lot, these last two years.
But another part of me also longs to be back in my own country. I will not need these heavy coats there. I long for street food like chaat and piping hot ragda pattice which you do not get in Norwich at all.
Finally, I reach office and when I log in, there is a mail from Anjali. She has actually asked me out on a date.
I smile. Maybe that is just what I need. A nice distraction from all these thoughts of Shruti which are clinging to me stubbornly, refusing to leave me in peace.
I draft a reply to her telling her that I would love to join her on Monday evening and I hit send.
I get her reply almost instantly.
‘Oh, lovely! Looking forward to it!’ it reads and I smile at her enthusiasm and bubbly nature.
Later, Mark drops me off at the bus station. There are coaches that drop you off at Terminal Five at Heathrow airport, which is where I will take my flight to India. I prefer the bus to the train, as taking a train will mean changing trains at Liverpool and I do not want to lug my rather large suitcase and my shoulder bag.
Finally I board the plane to India and I have got a seat right in front, just behind the business class section. I peep in and it looks so comfortable and cozy compared to the economy class where we seem to be packed like sardines. I look longingly at the people who travel business class and think to myself that I will some day get there.
I finally settle down for the eight-hour flight. I realise that I need to fully exorcise Shruti from my system. There cannot be any more mooning around for her.
She has moved on and so should I.
The more I think about it, the more my head tells me that Anjali is exactly what I need right now. But my heart still refuses to listen.
Shut up heart. I have had enough of you.
Of course, I have no idea about what lies in store. I think about how badly I am looking forward to finally being in India. I have no idea that the saying, ‘The road to hell is paved with good intentions’, is about to come true. I have no idea what I am setting myself up for. And so I drift off into a peaceful sleep, presuming that I am starting a new chapter in my life, not knowing that at times, the unfinished ones come back and haunt you, dance on your head and suck every darn thing out of you, till you are reduced to a jumbled mess of nothingness.
Chapte r 9
Shruti
I do not know what to say and so I remain silent.
‘There is something you are hiding from me, Shruti. I asked you a simple question. Who is Aman and why haven’t you told me about him all this time?’ Rishabh’s tone is low and controlled. As though he is holding himself back.
I do not know why I feel guilty. After all, it is not as though I have cheated on Rishabh. Rishabh’s tone has
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