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Chapter 3 - Mr. Traveler

↟Meera↡

I was writing furiously in my notebook and barely noticed Kabir approach until he slid my coffee toward me. 'So you finally found a story to write!' he exclaimed with a happy grin.

I returned his warm smile and responded with a hint of excitement in my own voice. 'Well, yes. At least, I have a start.'

He slid into the comfortable red chair across from me. 'That's great. Tell me what you are writing.'

I shrugged my shoulders, suddenly shy. How could I give him a synopsis when I barely knew where my mind was taking my fingers? I sighed. 'It's about a traveler.'

'Interesting,' Kabir responded. 'May I read what you have written so far?'

Tilting my head to the side in deep thought, I responded honestly, 'I am not sure if it's worth a read. 'My friend narrowed his eyes at me and ran his hand over his head. 'You never know! Come on, now show me.'

'Okay.' I turned the notebook around to let him read my precious words. I gulped. I hadn't been expecting him to read it out loud.

'I want to travel, travel the whole world. I want to go on a road trip. Stop at random places and explore their beauty. Run through the woods chasing a butterfly. Talk to new people with different cultures and different lifestyles. Listen to their stories; sit on a park bench in the sun. Enjoy every sunrise and sunset, sometimes from a hilltop and sometimes behind the trees. I want to spend hours beside a rushing river, feeling the wind in my hair and listening to the secrets hidden in the waves. Write a poem about the coldest, cloud-bound mountains and all five oceans. I want to cross my boundaries. I want to admire nature, and wonder at the magic of its creation. I want to make memories. I want to feel alive. I want to feel the Creator. I want to feel myself.'

His hand moved and I watched him turn the page. He read silently for a moment and I waited anxiously for him to continue. My heart was pounding, almost painfully.

'Life is not meant to be caged in your hometown, but it should be a wondrous place to be explored. I must explore all the nooks and crannies of this world. It has been a long-time dream of mine and, as I set out to do this, I realize that this must be what it feels like to be a baby bird, perched on the edge of its nest, ready and anxious to fly to other places. I sometimes pity humans for not being able to migrate the same way animals can. There are no boundaries for animals, except what they are incapable of doing for themselves. Humans seem to be the only creatures who say they live freely, but they are bound by the restrictions they place for themselves. We are not just bound to our work, but to our homes. We do not roam. We live in a small, isolated location—a cage would perhaps best describe it. We have an area for business and we have an area where we eat the same foods and meet the same types of people. Pune has turned into that cage for me. I know everything there is about Pune, but like a lion in the zoo, I crave the freedom of standing on a rock and looking down at the kingdom below me. I want to see the birds flying, the elephants bathing happily in their watering hole and the gazelles running freely. That is the freedom which humankind was granted, and I am about to capture it by chasing my dreams across the horizon.'

Kabir's voice drifted off and he sat in silence. Trying to be patient, I traced my fingers over the rim of my coffee cup, then down the side, catching a random drop. Absently, I lifted my finger to my lips and licked it.

Still, he said nothing. Finally, I nearly yelled the question. 'What do you think?' I asked with a mixture of excitement and dread. 'How is it?'

He broke into a huge smile. 'It's lovely, Meera! I think it will touch millions of hearts,' Kabir said enthusiastically.

'Truly?'

He nodded and I let out a nervous laugh. 'Thank you!'

Kabir turned my diary back around, patting it happily. 'I would love to read more when you continue your story! I am sure as the story unfolds it will be even greater. Promise yourself one thing: never stop writing, Meera!' My friend stood, straightened the creases in his pants, and went back to work.

I stared at the words on the pages, fisting my hands in silent triumph over the pen. I was just happy to know he liked it.

Before I could start to write again, a young girl with the brown café apron walked over to me and handed me a folded napkin. I looked at her questioningly and, silently, she signalled for me to open it. Curious, but confused, I lay the pen down and unfolded the napkin. It had just one word written on it in big capital letters: BEAUTIFUL.

I looked up at the girl. 'Who wrote this?' I asked. She turned back and pointed to a chair a few tables away. But there was no one.

'I don't understand,' I said.

She frowned for a moment, but then her face eased into a smile. With a nod toward the café exit, she said, 'That young man said to give it to you.'

It was the traveler. He had escaped again.

~

I watched the man walk away through the dusty window before I noticed Kabir was looking, too. I stood up and rushed over to the counter. 'Who was he?' I asked Kabir.

'He is the assistant branch manager at Citibank on Tilak Road,' Kabir said helpfully. 'He's been here several times since last month.'

I bit my lip in thought. 'Last weekend he was at the authors' meet as well. Has he told you his name?'

My friend shook his head and absently cleaned the counter between us. 'He doesn't talk much. However, I do know his name because he pays by credit card every time. His name is Vivaan.'

'Vivaan,' I repeated, tasting the name on my tongue. 'When does he usually come to the café?'

Kabir shrugged. 'Oh, when I say he is regular, he comes in often, but there is no fixed time. He drops by anytime he feels like it.'

I thought for a minute. 'Do you think you could text me the next time he drops by?' I asked. 'Sure,' Kabir said. 'But why are you asking so much about Vivaan?'

'He is the traveler about whom I am writing the story,' I answered. I couldn't help but grin as I left the café with Kabir standing there, his mouth open in shock.