The Old Bike

Sid froze at the sight before him. His eyes widened as he stared at Swati standing at his doorstep, a box of food in her hands. 

"It's you," he muttered, still trying to process the situation. 

Swati beamed and held out the box. "I brought this for you. You just came back, and you're alone at home." 

Sid took the box absentmindedly, his mind racing for a response. Before he could utter a word, Swati launched herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his frame. 

"I'm so happy that you're back!" she squealed. 

Sid stiffened, his gaze darting anxiously toward the street. If any neighbors saw this… He quickly pulled back, grasped Swati's arm, and yanked her inside, shutting the door firmly behind him. 

Frustration bubbled inside him as he ran a hand over his forehead, sighing in irritation. Swati had always clung to him, always inserting herself into his life, and Sid had never welcomed it. He just wanted her gone. 

He turned to her, eyes narrowed. "Swati, why are you here at this hour? And who told you I was back?" 

Swati smiled, stepping closer. "I saw you arriving with Yash from my house window," she said softly. "I missed you so much. Didn't you miss me? We used to be besties" Her fingers brushed his shoulders, her touch lingering. 

Sid recoiled, his expression hardening as he stepped out of her reach. He needed to put an end to this now. 

"Let me be clear, Swati," he said, voice edged with cold finality. "You and I were never friends. Not best friends. Not anything. You're just a neighbor I played with when I was a kid. Don't try to get closer to me—I already have someone in my life." 

It was a lie. A necessary one. Anything to stop Swati and her relentless pursuit of marrying him. 

Swati's face crumpled, tears spilling from her eyes. She searched his expression for a shred of hesitation, some flicker of regret—but Sid stood firm, unmoved. Sniffling, she turned toward the door, ready to leave. 

Just as her hand reached for the knob, Sid's voice halted her. 

"One minute." 

Her breath hitched as she spun around, hope flashing in her teary eyes. Had he changed his mind? 

Sid extended the tiffin box toward her, his expression cold. "Take this. And never come back to my house." 

Swati let out a broken sob and rushed out, disappearing into the night. 

Sid exhaled deeply, locking the door behind her. Exhausted from the evening's unwanted drama, he retreated to his bedroom. Yet, sleep remained elusive. 

He tossed and turned, his mind restless. Searching for something—anything—that could bring him peace. Then, a thought emerged. 

That dream. 

Closing his eyes, Sid allowed himself to drift into the memory, conjuring the face of the mysterious girl from his dream. A soft smile played on his lips. 

And finally, sleep embraced him.

Sid stirred awake, the morning light streaming through his window, too bright to ignore. He groaned, turning over in irritation, but sleep refused to return. With a resigned sigh, he sat up, stretching lazily before deciding to make use of the quiet Sunday morning. His gaze landed on his old bike, the one he had ridden endlessly in his younger days. A wave of nostalgia washed over him—memories of carefree rides. Today felt like the perfect day to bring it back to life.

He stepped outside into the front yard, the crisp air filling his lungs as he set to work. Water splashed against the bike's worn frame, dust and grime washing away with each stroke. As he cleaned, his mind drifted to childhood summers spent here, where laughter echoed between the walls of their home. He had been happy then, and today, he was happy to be back—to reclaim a piece of that past before diving into his new role at work.

Once the bike gleamed like it once had, Sid headed inside for a shower, the cool water refreshing against his skin. Dressed and ready, he swung his leg over the bike, fingers tightening around the handles. He rode fast, just like he used to, the wind rushing past him, carrying the scent of home—old streets, roadside stalls, familiarity.

As he sped down familiar roads, his eyes landed on the tea stall at the street corner. A small, unassuming place, but one tied to routine, to comfort. He pulled over, the scent of boiling tea and warm rusk wrapping around him like an embrace.

"Tea or coffee for you?" Vinod, the vendor, asked absentmindedly.

Sid smiled, shaking his head. "Didn't recognize me, uncle?"

Vinod squinted, his hands still working, before his gaze widened. He stepped around the counter with a laugh. "Little Cheeku? Is it really you?"

Little embarrassed hearing his early year's name, Sid chuckled as the older man pulled him into a hug.

Sid chuckled as the older man pulled him into a hug.

"When did you come back?" Vinod asked, still marveling at how time had passed.

"Just yesterday. Work transfer. I'll be here for a few months at least," Sid explained.

Vinod grinned, patting his shoulder. "That's wonderful! Come, sit. I'll make you the best tea, just like before. And rusk—your favorite, of course."

Sid settled into a chair, exhaling deeply as he took in the street—changed, yet familiar. He dipped the crisp rusk into his tea, savoring the comfort of the moment. But then, movement in the distance caught his eye—a girl, running. There was something familiar about her, though she was too far to be sure.

Piya?

The thought barely formed before his hand slipped, the rusk breaking off and sinking into his tea. He blinked, snapping back to reality, eyes darting back to where she had been.

She was gone.

Maybe he had imagined it.

With a small shake of his head, he leaned back and took a sip of tea, deciding to let the moment pass. After all, this was home—and he had all the time in the world to rediscover it.

Sid parked his bike and stepped into the grocery store, his mind already ticking off the items he needed. He moved through the aisles with purpose, his focus narrowing as he reached for a loaf of bread. Just as his fingers brushed the packaging, a small figure collided into him from behind. Sid stumbled, gripping the shelves to steady himself, while the child who had run into him tumbled to the floor, wailing.

"F***ing demons," Sid muttered under his breath, his irritation bubbling over. He grabbed the bread and moved on, leaving the crying child behind without a second glance.

Piya, hearing the commotion, rushed over. She crouched down, her voice soothing as she scooped the child into her arms. "It's okay, look, nothing happened," she said gently, brushing away the child's tears. As she helped him to his feet, a flustered woman appeared, her face a mix of apology and embarrassment.

"I'm so sorry," the woman said, her words tumbling out. "He's just too loud sometimes."

Piya chuckled, her warmth disarming. "If children won't mess around, then who will?" she said, planting a quick kiss on the child's cheek before standing. With a reassuring smile, she returned to her shopping, her presence leaving a trail of calm in its wake.

Meanwhile, Sid stalked through the aisles, his frustration simmering. He had never liked kids, and this encounter only reinforced his disdain. As he reached for a box of condoms, a reminder of his future plans, a sly smile crept onto his face. He wasn't about to let another opportunity slip away like he had at the club last time.

But then, as he glanced up, his heart skipped a beat. Through the gaps in the shelves, he caught a glimpse of a familiar face—Piya. His mood shifted in an instant. Dropping the box of condoms back onto the shelf, he hurried to the next aisle, his pulse quickening. Yet when he arrived, she was gone. In her place stood the woman and the child from earlier. Sid's frustration flared again, his mind playing tricks on him. The child glared at him, and Sid, unable to resist, made a face back. The child burst into tears, and Sid, startled by his own reaction, quickly retreated.

Back at his basket, Sid picked it up and hesitated. He reached for the box of condoms again, but Piya's face lingered in his mind. With a sigh, he set the box down and moved on, his thoughts a tangled mess.

Outside, in the parking lot, Piya was unlocking her bike when her eyes landed on a familiar number plate. Her lips curved into a smile as memories surfaced. "I still remember his number plate," she thought, her heart fluttering. "I wonder how he looks now."

She shook her head, dismissing the thought as a fleeting remnant of a childhood crush. Starting her bike, she rode off, the smile lingering on her face as the past and present blurred for just a moment.