The lack of emotional bandwidth to become someone’e extraordinary. The void thereof, which you and I, we both never talk about.

People see her as one strong woman, and mind you one strong woman. She fights all the unfairness in the world alone and stands strong. She is ordinary, very ordinary. Just like any other woman around her or maybe she is special. She knows she is meant for more, she has not found her life purpose yet. She is her, or her or her or she or she or you or I. She can be the lead of the story or she might as well be a supporting character of someone’s story.

And there she met, him. She has always been scared of stepping into a bookstore. What if she meets him there and they both don’t recognise each other. The overrated soulmate shit, the one which everyone is going bonkers about always. She wonder if she has already met him and lost her chance.

She did loose her chance. They had met on a Wednesday morning, in a bookstore, she was wearing something yellow I think and he was in his greys. They both were in different departments, looking for different books. There was no chance they would have met. They did yet, on the billing counter. They stood next to each other not knowing. They met so many times again, not knowing, crossing paths and yet not knowing.

So here she is sitting in her balcony, on an average day and wondering how many people wanted to promise the moon to her. She could never trust anyone. How could she. She had married once, she loved a guy who broke her heart. She couldn’t feel herself anymore. Here she was 20 years later, staring blank and wondering if she had lived enough or lost her chance to be someone’s extraordinary.

She is reading the same book today which she bought that day 20 years ago. She still does not know that it was that day on which they had met. She has a grown up son, being a single parent drains you out, she had the support of the family and friends and everyone but it does drain you out. She was never lonely but yes she was alone. On days it was tough. Yet she had a fulfilling life, a very kind considerate well read son who has now found love. Parents who care for her, siblings who stood by her and vice a versa, a very huge family, her siblings kids who love her and all. She had nothing to complain about. Though deep down she knows she dealt with the lack of emotional bandwidth and she never became someone’s extraordinary.

She takes a walk, her grey hair are as beautiful as the moon itself, the curls tangled like a web, trying to break free. She picks up the car and starts driving, and three hours later, she sees a dhaba on the highway. She parks, asks for tea and starts looking for the book. He is sitting there, right across, lost in his book, it is the same book. She walks up to him and shows him the book, they both share a smile. It is as if it was meant to be on this day they were to find each other. He looks at her and starts to tell her the story of how years ago, someone took the last copy from the bookstore and he was scared of the obviously finding someone in the bookstore and had not approached her. There he sat describing her as the most beautiful and simple woman he had ever seen, he sat there describing how he always wondered what would have happened if he had talked to her. He sat there explaining how life was different before social media and how he hoped to meet her again.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

She remembers her from the other time from some 17/18 years ago when he was sitting with a couple of friends in a bar, reading out a poem she loved. She could see only glimpses of him, she could hear him loud and clear, his ideas, the freedom of his thoughts, his need to want more from life. She wanted to walk up to him and say hi. She never thought she would be enough. She was ordinary, and too heartbroken to find the emotional bandwidth there on.

Both of them are here today. Sitting across each other, in the middle of nowhere, in dust, on a highway, in a dhaba, where no-one bothered to make sure the service was done on time.

They both know they have recognised each other. Both of them will not tell. 20 years is a lifetime.

They start sharing stories and experiences, he sits there watching her fascinated, she loves how he has not let go of the eye lock since they started talking. They have always lived nearby, it’s strange how they never met again. He tell her how the changing times and the rise of apps and his series of heartbreaks broke his faith of finding someone, she wonders why he is telling her this, She tells him her stories and how she was always chasing life and time.

It is about to get dark now, they pick up their cars and promise to meet early morning next day. They pick a place, they write each others numbers on the books. Him and her, they were always meant to be. She waited 20 years, he waited 20 years.

As the car disappear in direct directions she recalls of all the times she wondered she is worth being remembered, he recalls all the times he felt he was not enough for so many people. How they joked about not finding love at that time because time was so weird that people used to ask each other’s names after they had sex, how they could not fit into the situationships and flings culture. How they both knew they were soulmates, old school who just met very very late in life.

How they kept falling in love with each other over and over again and maybe the love at fight sight sayings are right. How they drove to this dhaba out of no where and how for the longest time they did not want to meet anyone, how they felt that being alone is the best thing for them. They felt the rush which made them feel the butterflies.

In the dead of the night while texting each other, both of them recall everything and stare at the moon, they realise.

It is love. And the old school kinds they were always looking for, except for just one thing.

He never asked her name.

She never asked for his.