MALVALOCA – Windy Monsoon Rains, A Mysterious Woman, An Intriguing Fragrance and A Romantic Interlude

I love reading short stories.

I enjoy writing short stories.

It is high time I write some good short stories.

So – while I write my next story – here is one of my Mumbai romance stories which I wrote 10 years ago – in 2005 – after my evening walk on Marine Drive – during which I got drenched in the rain...

MALVALOCA

Windy Monsoon Rains, A Mysterious Woman, An Intriguing Fragrance and A Romantic Interlude

Fiction Short Story - A Monsoon Romance

By 

VIKRAM KARVE 

 

I recognized her at once. 

She stood at the bus-stop near Worli – dishevelled in the windy rain – struggling with her umbrella – trying not to get wet. 

I stopped the car – opened the door and waved to her. 

She smiled – shut her folding umbrella – ran towards the car – got in – and closed the door.  

The moment she entered the car and sat down beside me – I sensed the distinctive aroma of her signature perfume – soft, relaxing aroma of scented geraniums – a delightful leafy rose fragrance, not too heady, a hint of spice, subtle yet alluring – a clean, exhilarating and utterly unique fragrance – an everlasting fragrance etched deep within me forever. 

She kept the wet umbrella near her feet – smoothed her hair with her hands – turned towards me – and said, “Thanks.”  

I changed gears – set the car into motion – and asked her, “Where shall I drop you...?” 

“Where are you going...?” she countered. 

“Churchgate...” I said. 

“Great. You can drop me on the way,” she said, “I live on Marine Drive.” 

“You live in Mumbai...? You have come back...?” 

“Yes.” 

“Oh – that’s great – a flat on Marine Drive – Successful NRI returning to one’s roots – is it...? He must be a successful head honcho in some MNC…” I said.

“I have come back alone...!” she said.

“Alone...?” 

“Yes. We broke up. My marriage did not work out.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” she paused for a moment and then she asked me, “You must be married...?” 

“No,” I answered. 

“Because of me...?” she asked.

“I don’t know...” 

“They told me you were very upset.” 

“They...?” 

“My parents told me that you were very upset and depressed...” she said.

“Oh – so your parents told you...?” I said.

“Tell me – what could I do...? I couldn’t marry both of you – could I...? I had to make a choice...” she said.

“And you made your choice – you dumped me and you chose him...” I said.

“Yes.” 

“The wrong choice...?” I said.

“Maybe…” 

For a little while we drove in silence – and then suddenly – out of the blue – she said, “I wish I had married you – maybe things would have worked out much better.” 

“Maybe,” I said.  

“Yes – maybe I really made the wrong choice,” she said wistfully. 

I did not say anything – I just remained silent. 

“How about you...?” she asked, “Any plans to get married...?” 

“I don’t know,” I said. 

We drove in silence. 

“Hey, I’ll get off here,” she suddenly said. 

“Here...?” I said slowing down the car – and steering left towards the footpath. 

“That’s where I stay,” she said pointing to a building, “Working Women’s Hostel.” 

“Working Women’s Hostel...? You live in the Working Women’s Hostel...?” I asked.

“Yes. Room number seven. Easy to remember – lucky seven,” she said.

Then – she opened the door of the car – hesitated – turned around – and asked me, “Why don’t you come in for a cup of coffee...?” 

“Thanks. Not now. I have an appointment,” I said.

“Okay. Maybe sometime later...?” she said.

“Maybe...” I said.

“Bye. And thanks for the ride,” she said.

“You’re most welcome,” I said.

She got out of the car – closed the door – gave me a smile and wave of thanks – turned around and walked away from my life once more. 

But the lingering fragrance of her enchanting perfume remained with me as I drove on to my rendezvous. 

My fiancée was waiting for me at Churchgate.  

“Hey,” my fiancée said, sniffing the air in the car, “What a lovely fragrance. A feminine perfume...?” 

“Malvaloca,” I said. 

“Malvaloca...?” 

“It’s a perfume made from scented geraniums,” I said.

“Wow...! What an enticing fragrance...! So you’re two timing me – is it...? Giving rides to ravishing beauties wearing mysterious perfumes...?” my fiancée said with a mischievous smile.

“Maybe...” I laughed. 

I stopped the car by the seaside – opened the windows to let in the fresh sea breeze – and let the fresh sea breeze blow away all traces of the unique perfumed fragrance of malvaloca.  

Then – I took my fiancée’s soft hands in mine – looked into her eyes – and I told her everything.

I told my fiancée everything.

Yes – I told her everything – absolutely everything...!

VIKRAM KARVE

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Disclaimer:

This story is a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the story are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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This story MALVALOCA was written by me Vikram Karve in the year 2005 and posted online by me earlier in my blogs a number of times including at urls: http://creative.sulekha.com/a-rainy-evening-a-ravishing-beauty-a-mysterious-perfume_481900_blog  and  http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2011/12/malvaloca-my-favourite-short-stories.html