chapter - 5

She had read his words again and again, trying to steady the trembling hope inside her.

"On April 30th, 1995, India will win the Asia Cup."

She wasn't sure if she wanted to believe it.... but she needed to.

Hours later, the entire neighborhood gathered around a battered radio perched on a wooden crate outside her house. Voices hushed as the announcer's excited tone crackled through the static.

"And it's all over! India has won the Asia Cup, beating Sri Lanka in a thrilling final here in Sharjah!"

A cheer rose from the crowd, a wave of joy washing over the dusty street.

She closed her eyes, a smile breaking across her face. Somewhere deep inside, a quiet certainty blossomed.

She took out her pen and began to write.

Hyderabad, 1 May 1995

 Dear Abhiram,

You were right.

India won. Today, the whole city is celebrating. I heard it on the radio. Everyone is talking about it.

I don't know how to explain what this means to me... that your words came true.

Maybe you really are from the future. Maybe time is more complicated than I ever imagined.

You wrote like someone who doesn't want to be heard by everyone, just by the right person. That's exactly why I started hiding letters in books.

I don't know what kind of world 2025 is. I imagine flying cars and maybe a cure for heartbreak. But if you're still reading poetry and drinking chai in Oxford, maybe the world hasn't changed as much as we think.

I'm still in Hyderabad. Still going to the same library. Still figuring out who I am when no one's watching.

You said the world moves too fast now. That makes me sad. Here, it's already starting... internet cafes, floppy disks, everyone rushing to be somewhere else. Maybe we lost something in the race.

Thank you for writing back. You're the first stranger who ever listened.

(still not fully convinced),

Anuradha.

P.S : Do they still sell samosas in your time?, Just checking what humanity has managed to preserve.

She folded the letter carefully and slid it back into the Gitanjali on the third shelf, bottom row. As her fingers touched the worn blue cover, she whispered to it like a secret:

"Take it to him. Wherever he is."

And she walked away....

...****************...

And in Oxford, in the quiet of 2025, Abhiram read Anuradha's letter, the rain finally easing outside. A small smile touched his lips.

And His mind raced with questions....who was she really?, What was her life like?, Did she feel as lonely as he did?....

He took out a fresh sheet of paper, dipped his pen in ink, and started writing.

Dear Anuradha,

Your letter found me in a way I never expected. Reading your words felt like stepping into a quiet room after years of shouting in the dark.

You asked if samosas still exist here... and yes, they do. Though maybe not as good as the ones you get in Hyderabad. I've even tried making some myself, but let's just say I'm better at writing letters than cooking.

It's strange....to think of you sitting in a library in 1995, penning words that would find me thirty years later. I keep wondering what your world looks like. What music you listen to, what dreams keep you awake at night.

You say the world moves too fast now. I think you're right. Sometimes I wonder if we're losing something essential in the rush... the art of waiting, the magic of quiet moments, the patience of handwritten words.

But here we are, writing back and forth through time. Maybe this is our kind of magic.

I don't know how this works.... or why. But I do know I'm grateful.

For your words. For your trust. For this strange, beautiful connection that makes me feel less alone.

Write to me again, Anuradha. Tell me about Hyderabad, about the rain there, about your favorite book or secret place. I'll be here, waiting, reading, writing.

Abhiram.

P.S : Do you mind, if I call you Anu??...

And with that letter safely tucked inside Gitanjali once again, Abhiram sent his thoughts across the years, hopeful that Anuradha would hear them.

...****************...

To be continued...

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***