‘Let’s do it!’ she finally said.
Prithvi flashed her a smile as they got off the train. They looked at each other and laughed as the train trundled out of the station, leaving them behind.
1840 hours
Prato wasn’t as sleepy a town as Pistoia, though it came close. Exiting the station, they saw the town slowly becoming quiet, lights dimming as people shut shop and headed home. No matter how small the town, aperitivo was one thing that Italians took seriously. It was their version of happy hour, and if you purchased one drink, you could eat any amount of finger food that came with it.
Indira and Prithvi were in high spirits as they made their way towards the town square, an element that was woven into the architectural language of all Italian cities. The square was bustling with people, violinists and street musicians playing beautiful melodies, setting the tone for the evening. A small but quaint church framed one side of the square and a string of cafés overlooked it on the opposite side.
Making their way to one of these cafés, they ordered their drinks (a local concoction of gin and berries) and sat outside, at one of the many tables that dotted the cobblestone pavement. Overhead, strings of small golden bulbs cast a glow on their faces as the sun set behind the church. A server arrived, bearing a tray of mouth-watering dishes, starting from appetizers to dessert, all bite-sized portions so one could sample everything.
Indira’s eyes lit up as she picked up a slice of pear and a cube of Brie cheese, and put them in her mouth. Prithvi smiled looking at her expression; she had her eyes closed—the exotic combination of cheese and fruit had sent her into a momentary trance.
‘That good, hmm?’ he asked, twirling his fork in a small bowl of creamy carbonara spaghetti.
‘Better! Never tasted anything like this in India!’
‘Do you miss home? India, I mean,’ Prithvi asked her.
‘Sometimes, but not much. I love the freedom I have here—doing things that I wouldn’t be able to at home. I love how I can just take a train and be in a different city tomorrow without worrying about what Ma will say; how I’m cooking my own meals and that they’re turning out even better than I thought; how I can just step out of my house, take a book to the park outside and read for hours, no questions asked; and . . . I’m rambling, aren’t I?’
Indira blushed as she looked at Prithvi, who hadn’t interrupted her even once.
‘This is the best kind of rambling. Go on!’ he urged, thinking how lovely she looked when her eyes shone as she spoke of the things she loved.
The minutes rolled into hours as Indira and Prithvi talked about everything under the sun, conversation flowing as easily as the wine the server kept pouring for them.
2030 hours
‘Maybe we should head home now?’ Indira asked, looking up at the ominous thunderclouds, her practical side kicking in.
‘Live a little, Indu . . .’ Prithvi said softly, standing up and extending his hand, gesturing towards the square, where several people had started to dance to the street musicians’ rendition of Tarantella, a classic Italian folk tune.
As she took his hand and let him lead her to the central square, Indira shook off the last of her inhibitions. She couldn’t find any more reason to resist the feeling that they were right where they should be. Indira and Prithvi fell into step beside the seasoned local dancers as the cheerful song picked up tempo.
Time seemed to slow down for them and, to Indira, it felt like they had been dancing for an eternity when the song finally ended with a grand flourish and everyone began to clap and laugh.
‘Bravo!’
The crowd applauded the musicians as they picked up their instruments again and prepared for their next piece.
The violinists filled the square with the lilting strains of a slow love song. From the crowd, couples paired off and began to sway to the music. Indira and Prithvi looked at the couples around them and then sheepishly at each other.
‘I don’t know how . . .’ Indira said.
‘Neither do I!’ said Prithvi. ‘That’s what makes it fun.’
Prithvi gently placed her hands around his neck and his own on her waist. Soon, they were swaying effortlessly to the enchanting melody.
‘I thought you didn’t know how to dance!’ Indira gasped, as Prithvi gave her a twirl and pulled her close to him again.
‘I don’t. You’re bringing it out in me,’ Prithvi whispered into her hair.
2130 hours
‘That was a really good time. It’s not something I normally do!’ Indira said, her cheeks flushed. They had run to the station. Prithvi looked at her and smiled; she looked quite ethereal in the gathering darkness, with the light from the sole lamp reflecting off her eyes.
As they climbed up to the platform, it began to drizzle, gusts of wind blowing towards them.
‘Thanks for today,’ Indira said, stepping towards Prithvi, emboldened by a rush of adrenaline.
‘Come here,’ Prithvi said, wrapping his arms around her with a sudden urgency. As he held her, Indira felt his head resting on hers. The train thundered into the platform and Prithvi pulled her closer to him as it began to rain more heavily.
Indira wanted to freeze that moment in time and wondered if Prithvi felt the same.
2200 hours
Indira and Prithvi got off the train and walked through the station.
‘Prithvi! There you are! You’re late!’ Elisa, Prithvi’s French girlfriend, waved at them from one end of the station.
Indira wondered if she had imagined Prithvi sigh.
‘See you on Monday?’ Prithvi asked Indira.
‘See you Monday.’
She watched Prithvi walk over to Elisa. Elisa looped her arm through Prithvi’s as they walked out of the station.
Indira realized that she hadn’t checked her phone throughout the evening. She unlocked it now and felt her heart plummet.
10 missed calls from ‘Aakash <3’. Indira felt as though the last couple of hours had been something out of a dream, and now someone had rudely awakened her and jolted her back to reality.
0000 hours
Later that night, Indira couldn’t sleep. She knew that her life had changed irrevocably that evening, that something had changed between her and Prithvi. A barrage of conflicting thoughts flooded her mind. She couldn’t help feeling a tinge of guilt at what had transpired between them and yet, she wondered whether her story with Prithvi would ever take off from Platform 9.
‘Platform 9 and 3/4. Almost, but not quite,’ Indira thought out loud, sighing wistfully at the Harry Potter reference as she closed her eyes and finally drifted off to sleep, the Italian love song playing in the background.
17
Flare
Mariam Rashid
In the City of Nawabs, in the last hour of the night, moonshine was glorifying the golden Arabic verses carved on the wall of the mosque.
Moid looked at the verse and tried to interpret its meaning. It perhaps meant ‘Call upon me and I will answer’, but he was not sure. In his dilemma, he walked into the masjid and prayed beside a man who was in prostration, whose heart was somewhere else like most of the people around him. He prayed for the Almighty to reveal to him the real meaning of love. After his prayers, he stepped out to leave, when unexpectedly the imam of the masjid approached the young man.