A Late-Night Call

↟Vivaan↡

I sat on the edge of my bed, my hands draped over my knees as my mind raced from thought to thought.

I rolled my cell phone over and over in my hands, and then scrolled through my contacts until I found the one that I wanted.

She answered, her voice singing as she spoke my name. 'Vivaan! How are you, my love? It has been so long since I've heard from you!'

'I know,' I responded, shame running though my veins. 'I have been so busy with work...'

I heard her groan. 'Yes, work. Work is all you ever think about,' she said scornfully.

'That is not true,' I argued. But it was partially true. I carefully constructed my life so I was too busy for friends, family and thoughts.

Everyone wants to run away from one thing or another. At times, I want to run away from my own self.

'So,' she said, her voice brightening. 'Tell me what is going on. I want to hear all about what my darling nephew has been busy with.'

I knew I was forgiven. Priya Aunty never called me her darling nephew if she was mad at me. Oddly, I felt lighter with those few words. I thought fleetingly about how important words are, and how both the spoken and written word can harm ... or heal.

'Well,' I began, turning my attention back to my aunt, 'you are right; I have been busy with work.'

'Work is boring,' she interrupted me before I could ramble on about loans and interest rates. 'It is necessary, but not a topic of conversation for today. What is fun in your world?'

I laughed. 'There is not much time for fun, Aunty.'

She would not give up. 'Have you been to the movies?'

'Not lately.'

'Any good restaurants?'

'Nope.' I heard her sigh in frustration. I could picture her sitting at her kitchen table, drumming her fingers impatiently. I grinned. 'I have been to a new café though,' I said.

'Really?' Her interest rose again. 'With friends?'

I laughed, knowing what she meant: friends of the female variety. 'No,' I said. 'They have a great French roast coffee that I love and the atmosphere is very fun. And they have writers coming in to speak...' I broke off, thinking of her. Meera. Her name to me was like a warm evening breeze.

'That sounds interesting,' she said. 'But you are still alone.'

'It is what I want, Aunty,' I said. 'You know I want to travel. I need to explore the world, see the Grand Canyon, the Great Wall of China.'

'The pyramids,' she offered, continuing my path of thinking. 'I know, Vivaan. And I know you would not have the opportunity to travel if—'

I broke in, anxious to cut off the rest of her sentence. 'But I can, and I will.'

'When?'

'I'm not sure,' I said. 'Perhaps soon.'

'Won't you get lonely?'

'Maybe,' I admitted. 'Maybe I will. But a person needs to learn how to be alone.'

'I do hope you find what you are looking for in the great, vast world you encounter,' she responded.

'And what would that be?' I teased.

'Only you know, Vivaan.'