Yarns Of Imagination

It was 2 AM in the morning. Ravi was almost dozing off but the dozen excited relatives who had come to see him off at the New Delhi airport were still highly energized. He was tired of bidding goodbye, convincing the aunties that he would not marry a white girl and checking his passport and documents umpteen number of times.  “You are fulfilling my dreams, beta.”, said his dad patting him on the back. Since childhood I have only dreamt of getting a master’s degree abroad and settling in the land of opportunity. But … .” “Dad, this is the twentieth time you have said that in the past one hour”, said Ravi, cutting him off, dreading hearing his excuses for not making it to America. As he proceeded to security check he was relieved to escape the farewell party which had been going on for weeks now and ended at the gates of the airport since the farewell bidders were not allowed beyond that; relieved to escape the helpers in the security area pestering him to let them carry his baggage ...

The sudden movement of the train jerked Shilpa out of her sleep. She glanced at her watch with sleepy eyes. There were seven more hours to go before the train reached Hyderabad. She dragged herself up to a vertical position on the train berth, pulled up her short hair with a hair band and picked up the mug to pour herself a cup of Complan from her white and green Milton flask. The co-passenger seated opposite her was a young girl probably in her early twenties, right about her age, occupied with some white headphones and a music playing device that she had never seen before. She was tall and dusky dressed in a jeans and white Nike jacket. She had shoulder length straight brown hair with bangs covering half her face, her kohl smeared eyes looking out, observing the sceneries of rural India framed by the rectangular glass windows. Shilpa offered her some Complan. The girl paused her music, took off her headphones and said, "I don't mind. Thanks". "I am Shilpa. What is ...