The full moon looked like a lamp caught in the mouth of a dark horse. The scent of imminent rain was strong in the breeze. A girl was gazing towards the horizon, deep in thought, humming a folk song in Raga Megh Malhar. Dark clouds were thundering like elephants charging in the battleground.
Professor Kalyani Rane sighed after a long day of work. She was still not sure if she had done the right thing by allowing Nikita to write her thesis on a folklore. Nikita has done Masters in Social History and was writing a thesis on the impact of folklore in shaping modern civilization. Most professors, Kalyani knew, scoffed at the idea of researching folklore as a history student as they believed folklore is nothing but fiction. But Kalyani understood the importance of forgotten stories. Nikita was a good student but Kalyani felt she was going overboard with the descriptions. Nikita was a history student for heaven's sake, not an English language graduate.
Kalyani looked at her watch. It was 7 pm. If her mother was there, she'd have given her an earful for being the last person leaving the university campus. But that disgusting cancer! It snatched everything from Kalyani.
It was pitch dark outside and inky clouds were rumbling like a fallen warrior. Outside the campus, there was a line of people waiting for an entry at the most posh nightclub of New Delhi. Kalyani never understood what was the point of building a nightclub just outside the university campus.
"Are these spoilt rich brats rain-resistant?" Kalyani muttered annoyingly.
"Behenji, do you need a lift?" A gang of boys catcalled.
Kalyani made her steps quicker.
"Don't call her behen, guys!" Another guy sneered.
Kalyani's breath stuck in her throat when she saw their bikes coming towards her. She clutched her bag tightly.
Suddenly a red open-roofed car stopped with a screech between the bikes and Kalyani.
The car windows rolled down and a man looked at Kalyani above the dark glasses he wore even though it was evening, "Oh! There you are, sweetheart!"
"What the hell are you saying?" Kalyani was incredulous, trying to remember whose face she had first seen in the morning to have such a bad day.
"I know you're angry from me, babes, when I came here instead of spending time with you, but I know you too want to get out of here as early as possible," the man threw a meaningful glance at the boys on bike.
Kalyani then understood what he meant, and got into the car.
"What are you doing here this late?" The man asked adjusting the rear mirror in which Kalyani's reflection was sulking. He was wearing a dark blue jacket and black jeans, "You don't seem the likes who visit nightclub. By the way, I am Malhar Malhotra, by the way." He said stretching his right hand backward.
"Just drop me at the nearest bus stop," Kalyani grumbled, "I have no interest in who you are and what's your name. You must be a spoilt, good for nothing brat who waste their parents' money on pubs and parties."
Malhar chuckled, "You should absolutely be interested in who I am. All the girls are. Hey, there's a water bottle in your seat. Drink some water and calm down."
Kalyani gulped half of the bottle in one go.
After wiping her face, she said, "Stop the car. I'll get down here " There was bus stop there and Kalyani went towards it.
"At least, you should say thank you," Malhar called out to her. He took the bottle from the backseat with the help of a handkerchief.
"Bad manners, Ms. Kalyani Deshmukh," he whispered and dialled a phone no.
"ACP Malhar Rane here," He said on the phone, "I got her fingerprints."
So I'm writing after a long long time and I'm not sure if this is any good. So please give me your honest feedback and please tell me whether I should continue or not.
Bade Achche Lagte Hain Naya Season
Cricket
