Echoes of the Past

It was 2 AM at Vijayawada railway station when I briefly regained consciousness, disturbed by the sounds around me. A family entered my compartment—parents and two kids. I couldn't fall asleep again until they settled down. Finally, I drifted off, lulled by the rhythm of the train's movement.

My ears perked up and my eyes flew open when someone said, "Pinky, you can sleep now in the lower berth; I'm going to the middle one." My mind raced, urging me to look at her. Was it really the same girl I wanted to erase from my memory, yet somehow couldn't? Yes, it was her—the very same, unchanged since I last saw her at her wedding.

Eleven years of togetherness had crumbled in an instant because I refused to beg her parents for our marriage. They say love is blind, but love can be incredibly selfish too. Imagine if your loved one turned down a proposal from a celebrity just for you; that day, I became the joker in a match that was never meant to be.

She left me behind, and that day I decided to channel my heartbreak into ambition. I poured myself into work, aiming to outshine Arpit, Pinky's husband. Now, seven years after our formal separation, my company, Mechoz Edutech, is thriving—an educational chain with an annual turnover of 50 crore.

As I lay there, I felt the urge to catch her attention, curious to have a conversation. I got off the upper berth, went to the bathroom, then returned, pretending to be half-asleep. She noticed me, of course; girls have an uncanny ability to read subtle cues.

We both loved train journeys. I remembered the trip on September 20, 2010, when we headed to Goa for her birthday. We shared earplugs, listening to music on the Samsung Android I had gifted her the previous Valentine’s Day, immersing ourselves in the characters of every song.

A few minutes later, my phone beeped with a text: "Is that you?" I considered replying "no," but our relationship wasn't light enough for that anymore. I replied, "Yes."

Pinky: "You’ve become Golu Motu."

Me: "No change in you."

Pinky: "Really?"

Me: smiley 😉😉

For ten minutes, our phones fell silent, and we stole glances at each other, careful to avoid eye contact.

Then my phone beeped again—this time, it was a WhatsApp message.

Pinky: "Follow me." It was 3:30 AM.

We met near the entry gate. A chaiwala approached us, asking if we wanted coffee. At that hour, a hot cup of coffee felt like winning Rs. 100 in a phone transaction.

For a couple of minutes, we stood in silence. I broke the ice by asking how life was treating her.

"Good," she replied firmly.

Me: "Going fast—two kids in seven years."

She smiled. "Congratulations on becoming rich!"

I was surprised she still seemed so simple.

Pinky: "Are you alone? Family?"

Me: "Hey, are you mad? I’m still single—right where you left me."

The day she turned away from us, I decided to empty the space she’d occupied in my heart.

Just then, someone approached and asked Pinky, "Who are you talking to?"

Pinky: "Didi, he’s my childhood friend."

Lady: "Oh, is that Dev? I’ve seen you on Pinky’s timeline."

Pinky: "Dev, this is Namita didi, Arpit's first wife—and my co-wife."

My blood ran cold. I was taken aback.

"How do you manage this?" I asked, still in shock.

Pinky: "No surprises, Dev. We have a formal agreement. I take care of the kids and do research. Thanks to Nami didi, I completed my PhD and published thirteen research papers."

Namita: "Alright, you both keep talking," she said, stepping away.

I expected Pinky to invite me in for a deeper conversation.

As we approached Visakhapatnam station, I said I needed to get off. Before leaving, I asked, "Pinky, why didn’t you reach out to me?"

Pinky: "I feel like I cheated you."

Me: "It’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with staying in touch. You still have me tucked away in your heart."

Pinky: "What? How can you say that?"

Me: "That ring on your middle finger tells the whole story—the one I gifted you."