Olive Chaudhuri

“ Baba, I really wish you didn't take up this shift. ” I smiled at my beautiful, loving daughter. She always cares too much about me. As I do the same for her. She needs to go to dance school. She loves dance, my lovely girl. I want her to learn at a proper school and these school fees are expensive. I want her to have a shot at all her dreams. If this is one of her dreams, I want her to achieve it. I am a taxi driver. I had decided to take up the night shift at the cab company I was working for. It was unofficially called the ‘ After Hours ' shift. However, this is not really my story. This is the story of how one passenger helped me stay awake on my very first day at this new shift. I am getting ahead though. I must begin where all stories begin. At the beginning. My taxi was booked to drive a gentleman from Ranaghat to Behala that night. It was a 3 hour journey. The gentleman sat next to me instead of behind like everyone else does. I looked at him curiously and switched on...

//  “Meera”, the therapist called. “You sure you don’t wanna say anything?” He asked. I looked at him and shook my head. “Give it a try Meera. Words will help in healing.” Like every day I gave him As-If-I-Care look and went back to my room. And like always he chanted from behind - “Confessions are good for the soul Meera”. I came back to my bed and start thinking about why does he keep saying that? Is this a part of his psychological study or just a random one-liner he flaunts. And do I give a f*uk? I mean, all I have to do is eat thrice a day, take these medicines which keeps me drowsy, attend therapy, look around other so-called patients from my window who roam around like zombies, lay on the bed and stare the ceiling for hours with this unique peculiar medicinal smell around me. Except for the silences, I hate everything about this place. But now this is a life I’m destined to live, life in a mental asylum. Now, it’s been more than a year here. I haven’t spoken to anybody yet. ...

//  She was staring at the passing trees, one after another. Unlike the roads of her city, this was a pleasant path to drive. No frequent brakes, no honking, no shifting of gears on every signal. Although she wanted to, but she wasn’t driving. She was at the back seat of a hired sedan on her way to Nandi Hills from Bangalore. She was strictly instructed neither to drive her own car for this visit nor carry her smartphone for the journey. Mishika had never witnessed this feeling. It was a mixture, she was nervous but also very excited about it. She wasn’t joyous but wasn’t sad either. She had been to Nandi hills before. But not like this – alone without any phone, without telling her daughters, without her husband’s knowledge. Her husband, every time she thinks about him, her eyes welled up. Atul and she had been married for the past seventeen years now, have a beautiful home with two beautiful daughters. Yet, she’s on her way to hills to meet another man without anyone’s knowledge....

 ~EPILOGUE 3~ A/N: Yes, I had never planned on writing BACK IN TIME. And in all honesty, most of what kept happening with Meera and Vedant throughout the novel, was just me observing things around me and letting this story be the outlet for my emotional turmoil about so many things in the past year. I can't control the World, but I can control my characters and how they deal with problems in their life. Here's the last part of the epilogue, a little peek into their future and how I see the two of them come to terms with reality. Enjoy! **************** "Chai for Ms. Modi!" Meera turned on her spot, raising her brows at him. Vedant blushed, "Sorry sorry. Mrs. Shah. Happy?" She grinned, grabbing the Styrofoam cup from his palm and bringing it close to her lips. Blowing at the hot tea she replied, "Very happy." Vedant settled next to her on the stoned flooring at Marine Drive, nursing his tea cup in his palm, "I ki...