Girl on the window

Girl at the window 

You meet a lot of people during your daily travel. Strangers, yet your companion. This story is about one such companion, Pink. 

Pink is a 3-year-old girl. I actually do not know her name. I call her Pink because she has got adorable pink cheeks. 

I see her almost every day from my office cab. She stays in an old house near the Frazer town signal. She puts her chin on the window and keeps waving her hand to all the passersby. Some respond back, some don't even notice. 

I eagerly watch through my cab window while we pass that signal. Sometimes when I am busy talking with my cab-mates, I repent for not having seen her that day. 

One day I am going to my office on my bike. My heart beats faster out of excitement while I wait in that signal to catch a glimpse of Pink. But she isn't seen at the window that day. As the signal turns green everyone starts to rush. There is an undeclared race between the bikers. “Uncle” I hear someone shout from my back. I apply my bike brakes with my full energy. My gut says it is Pink calling me, my bike comes to a sudden halt. I turn back to see if it is Pink who called me. 

There is a sudden scream from the front. I am trying to wrap my head around on what is happening. The biker next to me who had just surpassed me is hit by a speeding truck. I rush to attend the biker. There is blood all over the road. Someone calls the ambulance. Within no time the aid arrives and he is shifted to the ambulance and some good samaritans help him get the necessary medical attention. 

Later in the day while my mind tried to find the peace it strikes me that if I hadn't abruptly stopped my bike to look for Pink I would now be fighting for life in the hospital. Maybe I would have been dead by now. I get goosebumps thinking that Pink just saved my life. She is my angel. 

Days pass by but that accident is fresh in my mind. I escaped death? Do I owe my life to that little girl? Blood gushes my face, the emotions are riding high. I hear my inner voice telling to meet her. I buy chocolate and a doll. I drive to her house. 

The house is pretty old. Standing in its vicinity I realize how magnificent the structure is. It must have been from the times of colonization built by Britishers. I notice the missing calling bell so I knock on the door. A young gentleman attends it. I introduce myself and narrate the whole story. My eyes are looking through the half-open door searching for Pink. I hesitantly ask him "Can I meet the small girl?". My voice fumbles as I ask "Is she your daughter". 

The young gentleman at the door is dumbstruck! He hesitantly says "there is no kid in the house". "We are four bachelors staying in the house for the past 3 years." 

I am shocked to hear that. I repeat what he says for assertion "There is no kid in the house, you are only bachelors staying in from the past 3 years?". "Your friends or relatives kids?" 

I ask, my voice is trembling to even complete the sentence. The gentleman apologetically shakes his head and humbly closes the door

"There is no kid in the house" kept resonating my ears for the next few days. 

With some hope, I keep traveling to the office on my bike. I stop by at the signal for a few minutes even if it is green. My hope is to catch a glimpse of Pink. 

My routine continues for days. My family and friends complain to me that I am aloof nowadays. One day at the same signal a man standing next to me says, "Aren't you the same person who admitted that guy when he was hit by a truck?”. I said, "Yes, how do you know?”. The puzzled look prompts him to reply "I was also standing in the signal that day, right behind you". "Why did you abruptly apply brake, did you see the truck jumping the signal? I almost banged into you. But hadn't you stopped we both might have been hit by that truck" 

I got curious I asked him "Did you see any girl calling me?". With a friendly, smile he said "No, I did not see anyone nor did I hear anything. Whatever it is, it saved you, buddy". 

I want to find out the truth more than ever. Is that girl just my imagination. Is she a ghost? Is she an angel? 

I am so much into it that I start to ignore my personal life, my professional life is affected. Worried, my wife decides to take me to a psychiatrist. I do not know if I blabbered everything when the doctor sedated me. Everyone around treats me with 

sympathy. The medication he puts me on is working. 

I am able to overcome the unanswered question. One day when I am openly talking about this in my cab, Pavan my cab mate laughs and says, "you waved at someone at Frazer town signal? Daily? No way! You are always deep asleep then (“then" is typically for a specific instance in the past). I feel a strange sense of satisfaction. I see her, wave at her only when I am not talking to my cab mates. I see her, wave at her only when I am sleeping!! 

I go back home and rush to my doctor, I tell him “Pink is only my dream”. My wife and the Doctor with a sheepish smile and say "Yes we know, until now you just did not accept it". He takes out his pen and scratches out the prescription and says "You do not need these medicines anymore" 

Pink might not have existed in reality but indeed she was an angel, she saved my life. 

Years have passed by. I am the father of a lovable daughter. I often meet Pink in my dreams, she is the same adorable three-year-old kid