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When a Stranger Called..

Short story By: Ragenoon
Literary fiction


On a fine evening, Just as the sun was saying its final good-byes to the sultry world.. I was deeply engrossed in my mundane books. Hoping as I was to grasp something of substance that would justify my time.. A vane effort indeed..
A call came..One that changed something inside me..


Submitted:Mar 2, 2014    Reads: 22    Comments: 0    Likes: 1   


When a stranger called..

On a fine evening, Just as the sun was saying its final good-byes to the sultry world.. I was deeply engrossed in my mundane books. Hoping as I was to grasp something of substance that would justify my time.. A vane effort indeed..

Just then the flickering light of my cell phone caught my eye..an unknown number it was..must be a wrong number I thought to myself. My mind was racing to come to some conclusion, should I pick up the call or not? I choose the former..

And I was glad that I did..

A sweet soft female voice spoke almost instantly on the other side…she seemed confused..tired I guessed..

Enquiring about a certain someone..who's name I couldn't catch. I was still engrossed in my own thoughts, couldn't believe the sudden turn of this boring evening..As I pulled myself to reality I noticed a silence..which I assumed was for my expected response from the other side.

I hastily tried to put together a descent sounding sentence, hoping that it would make some sense..

" I am sorry but this is peter" I said..

As I spoke those words, a certain sadness dawned upon me..the obvious conclusion to my brief conversation with this beautiful voice would now come to an end.

It was difficult..so difficult to pay attention to those words, had never heard such a beautiful voice before..struggling as I was to keep up and sound like a sane person..

At the back of my mind I was trying to put a face to that voice..just a face..maybe a pretty face. I do not know..

I just hoped the voice would keep on speaking..and it hit me, there was silence on the line yet again..

I was supposed to reply..say something.. anything..and I did..and she just said.."Ohh, sorry. Bye"

And the line went dead, I stood there..looking at the lampshade which till now looked like any other boring object in the room..but not today..not after that call..

Things seemed lovely..pleasant..as if a painter had just spilled some colours on the canvas of my grey life..

The books were staring at me..giving me a blank gaze, but I started back with a smile. A smile that had been lost somewhere..sometime..long ago

I realised that my roommate was looking at me..thinking I had finally crossed my line of sanity..never to return

"hey, what are you doing??!!..you have been staring at that lampshade for the past 15mins and talking to yourself about some colours and stuff..are you ok.. you dont seem to be.."

"You need a doctor, my friend" he said with a grin but the lack of interest was apparent..maybe it was said just out of the mere obligatory spot he might have been put into..as my "room-mate". We all feel we are responsible , right? To a certain extent.. responsible for something..it just gives us that feeling of "good"..

Although that feeling might be a temporary, but that makes us feel good about ourselves..Strange it was.. I always thought..

I came back to reality again and just smiled at him, I said " No, what I NEED..is to make a call.."

I got up and went outside to get some fresh air..hoping that it would help clear my head..My body wasn't used to so much oxygen..living in a dorm for the past 4 years had made me more accustomed with the ever prevalent smell of weed rather than oxygen.. the smoke was present always…at all hours of the day. So much so that the boys no longer even noticed it…every now and then it made weird shapes and faces as if it had an identity..

I had to find a name for that voice..maybe a face

May be a phone number perhaps?..oh wait.. I already had that..

Beauty or atleast the idea of it rather, it distracts you, a very dangerous thing it is..beauty..

Makes you wonder, no matter how strong you feel you are. Its those simple things in life that win you over.

Or defeat you rather..

Just a smile..a dimple..a touch on your cheek ..a kiss on your lips..as my mind raced through the memories of my own making, a feeling of warmth filled my body.

It was a chilly evening but I felt warm..full of joy

I decided to put my contentions at bay for a while and came to live in the reality.. "Think stupid..think"..I said to myself

What do I write?

And like a toddler.. I paced up and down the dark alleyways. Hoping to find an answer in the cracked walls and those flickering lights…

And then it came to me, just like that..as naturally as the spring breeze hitting your face taking you into its open arms..embracing you into a world that you identify with..deep down

What would be a better reply then to appreciate the voice itself..Putting the beauty of the voice in mere dull words was a herculean task for me, it occurred to me that the English language which the Brits boost so much about, was astonishingly inadequate to express your true inner feelings..

As I was struggling to find the words, those poetic words.. I found myself to be in a dilemma. A voice deep within me suddenly came to life..and said.. "Just write what you feel.."

And I did.. "Hey, you have a beautiful voice, a compliment from a stranger.."

And I pressed send..A million thoughts rushed through my mind..contemplating..pacing..gushing through like a waterfall..

Keeping still seemed to me to be in-human..and then suddenly my cell phone blinked..

As if inviting me with the grip of the joker and the ecstasy of a magician in its LED filled eyes..

One message it said..

With a sone on my heart..metaphorically speaking ofcourse, I opened it, the stranger had replied.

I read it twice..it said "Thank you stranger, you too "

THE END





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