A Drive in the Rain – Short Fiction – A Love Story

A DRIVE IN THE RAIN

Short Fiction – A Love Story

By

VIKRAM KARVE

After a long wait – Pune had its first rains this year.

 

This reminded me of a romance story I had written a few years ago – A DRIVE IN THE RAIN 

I wrote story this story 10 years ago in the year 2006 on a rainy afternoon – after I got drenched in the rain while walking in Aundh in the morning.

Read on ...

A DRIVE IN THE RAIN – A Love Story by Vikram Karve

The monsoon has finally arrived in Pune. 

It is the first day of the monsoon – but it’s been raining incessantly all morning.

Ideally – at 10 o’clock in the morning on a working day – I should have been safely ensconced in my office.

But today – I sit in the driving seat of my car – slowly negotiating my way in the torrential rain – because I have an important appointment to keep.

Suddenly – I see Avinash – half drenched – shivering under the bus-stop at Aundh – trying to protect himself from the pouring rain.

Avinash sees me too. 

Our eyes meet. 

I wonder who is more surprised at this unexpected encounter – He or Me...?

At first instinct – I just feel like ignoring him and driving away.

But then – my humanitarian side takes over – so I stop the car near him – lean across – open the car door – and I beckon him to get inside.

Avinash seems hesitant – and he says: “Thanks – but I’ll take an auto-rickshaw – I am going to Deccan.

“Come on Avinash – get in fast or you’ll get wet – you won’t get a rickshaw in this rain – and – I too am going towards Deccan Gymkhana – I’ll drop you on the way...” I say to him.

Avinash gets in – and – he sits beside me in the front passenger seat.

For a while – we drive in silence.

“It’s been five years,” he says.

“Yes...” I say, “Quite a surprise – seeing you here in Pune.”

“Yes. I just came in from Mumbai by the Volvo bus and got down at Parihar Chowk. And you...? What are you doing in Pune...?” he asks me.

“I relocated to Pune six months ago...” I say.

“Oh. So you live in Pune now...?” Avinash says.

“And you...? Do you still live in America...?” I ask him.

“Yes. But maybe I’ll come back...” 

“Homesick...? Or is the recession still not over...?”

“Not really...” 

“So you’ve come to look for a job in Pune...?”

“It’s actually something else. A family matter...” Avinash says.

“Family matter...? In Pune...?” I ask him.

“My wife is from Pune...”

“Wife...? You remarried...?

“Yes. Two years ago.”

“And – I didn’t even know! You didn’t even bother to inform me...” I say angrily.

“We decided – didn’t we...? Do you remember...? We decided to move on in life. To go off on our different ways and not look back at our relationship...” 

“Yes. We lost track of each other completely...”

“That was good. Isn’t it...? For both of us...?”

“Yes.”

“And you? You married again?”

“Yes. I got married too – soon after you left for America after our divorce.”

“On the rebound...?”

“Maybe!” I said, laughing.

Avinash has not changed. 

He still has the knack of saying these devastatingly rude things in such a naïve innocent way.

Soon – we are near the Pune University circle.

I ask him: “Where is your wife’s house...? I’ll take the road accordingly.”

“It’s okay. Just drop me wherever convenient to you.”

“Come on. Tell me. Just see how heavily it is raining. Do you want me to go via Senapati Bapat Road? Or – do you want me to drive straight ahead - via Fergusson College Road – or – should I drive on to Jangli Maharaj Road...?”

“It’s okay. You drive to wherever you want to go in Deccan. I’ll get off there.”

“Oh. So – you don’t want to show me your wife’s house...?” I say, tongue in cheek.

“No. No. It’s not that. I am going somewhere else. Actually – I am going to the Family Court.”

“To the Family Court?” I ask, taken aback.

“Yes,” he says, “it’s beyond Deccan – past Lakdi Pul – near Alka Cinema.”

“I know where the Family Court is ...” I say, “I hope you are not ...”

“Yes. First – it was the Family Court in Mumbai with you. And now…” he stops – and I see tears well up in his eyes.

“I too am going to the Family Court...” I say, sensing a lump in my throat.

“What?” he looks at me, startled.

“I am divorcing my husband. Today is the final hearing. Hopefully!” I say.

I slow down – I stop the car near the pavement past E-Square Multiplex. 

I wipe my eyes with tissue – and – I hold the tissue box towards Avinash. 

He too wipes his eyes.

“Maybe we should have stayed together – we should have tried to make our marriage work...” I say.

“Yes. It all happened so fast. Maybe we were too hasty, too impatient, too headstrong.”

“Yes. We could have tried to make it work...”

“I think we sought the easy way out. We were too young – and – unrealistic, immature, impetuous, volatile…”

“Yes. Ours was a tempestuous stormy relationship. A terrible marriage. But – there is one thing.”

“What?”

“With you I could be myself – no mask, no pretence, no forced geniality.”

“Me too. With you I could truly be myself. No contrived feelings, no holding back. I could never be like that with anyone else. With her too. The way I could naturally be with you. You know – I think we were “made for each other”...”

“Maybe we should give it a try. One more time. And try to make things work.”

“Are you serious...?” he asks with a curious look in his eyes.

“Yes, Avinash. Let’s empty our cups and start afresh. Like you said – I too think we are “made for each other”...”

“Okay – but there is one thing.”

“What...?”

“Is it allowed to marry the same person twice...? Can we get married to each other again...?”

“I don’t know – but – I think it is okay. I’ll ask my divorce lawyer. She will know...”

“Yes. I’ll confirm at the Family Court too”

“One more thing.”

“Now what?”

“This time – we will have No Expectations, No Disappointments and a Happy Marriage...”

“Yes,” I say – I lovingly put my hand on his and say: “No Expectations, No Disappointments, Happy Marriage...”

Suddenly – I notice that it has stopped raining – and the sun is peeking through the clouds.

I feel good.

I start the car – and – we drive on towards the Family Court.

Now – we will try to erase the second chapter of our marital lives forever.

And – we will begin rewriting afresh the unfinished first chapter our inchoate relationship.

Maybe – we can have a Monsoon Wedding.

VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve 
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

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.

Copyright Notice:

No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.

Copyright © Vikram Karve (All Rights Reserved)

     

© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

 

This story was written by me 10 years ago in 2006 and also posted online earlier on my creative writing blogs a number of times including at urls: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2011/05/monsoon-wedding.html  and  http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2013/07/monsoon-story-drive-in-rain.html  and  http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2012/05/monsoon.html and http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2015/06/a-drive-in-rain-monsoon-romance.html