Tuesday, August 21, 2012


Short Fiction Story

“Hello Sir,” she said.

In the suddenness of the moment, I did not recognize her.

But then she gave me her vivacious smile, her eyes danced, and I knew who she was.

She had been one of my brightest students – but then that was quite some time ago.

“Of course I recognize you,” I said, “How can I ever forget one of my best students? But it was so unexpected that I was confused for a moment; and you’ve grown up so much, and I too am getting old, you know.”

“No, Sir, you still look handsome, and as young as ever. I’m sure all the girls still have a crush on you, like we did!” she said naughtily.

I almost blushed, so to change the subject, I asked her, “What you doing here at the airport?”

“I’m going to New York,” she said, “my flight is delayed so I am just killing time.”

“My flight to Singapore is delayed too,” I said.

Singapore?” she asked.

“Yes. I’m going for a conference,” I said.

“Oh,” she said.

For some moments no one spoke.

To break the silence, I said, “Let’s go to the coffee shop. We can sit and talk over there till our flights are announced.”

As we walked to the airport coffee shop, I thought of the girl walking beside me.

She had abruptly left our school three years ago, after completing her 9th Standard.

When we teachers expressed our surprise, the Principal of our school told us that her parents wanted to shift her to an elite boarding school, faraway in the hills.

We told the Principal that she was a brilliant scholar, one of our best students, who had the potential to top the 10th Board Exams, and she would surely bring laurels to our school by adorning the merit list. We also argued that, even from her point of view, it was not prudent to change her school and shift her just one year before the matriculation board examination.

The Principal told us that he had discussed all this with her parents, but they were adamant.

So, the bright young girl left our school and went away to the boarding school, and I did not see her, or hear of her, after that.

“Sir, do you know why I had to suddenly leave school?” she asked, as we sat down for coffee.

“No,” I said, “we were quite surprised.”

“My parents were getting divorced and they did not want me around, so they sent me away to the boarding school,” she said.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “that’s sad.”

“Yes,” she said, “it was really sad. I did not like it at all.”

Though I had met her parents once or twice perfunctorily at school functions, I did not know her parents that well. In fact, I did remember most of my students, but I hardly remembered their parents.

I sipped my coffee and did not say anything, waiting for her to speak.

“I just don’t know why they split,” she said, “we seemed to be such a happy family together.”

“They must have had their reasons,” I said.

“Well, I think I know at least one reason now,” she said.

I just looked at her, waiting for her to continue speaking.

“The moment the divorce was through, my dad got married to a woman half his age.”

“Half his age?” I asked, quite incredulous.

“Yes. The female was his student.”


“You know that my father is a Professor, don’t you?” she asked.

“Yes,” I lied.

“She was doing her Ph. D. under him. The wily female snatched him away from us. And it was his fault too – a married man with a family getting involved with woman so much younger than him.  It was terrible – a teacher and a student shamelessly getting married to each other. Just imagine how embarrassing it must have been for me and my mother.”

“Yes,” I said, trying to show empathy.

“And do you know what my mother does?”


“Three months later, she too gets remarried to a jerk from her office,” she said, “I hate him – he’s such a crafty smooth-talking fake.”

She paused for a moment and said, “And can you imagine his audacity?”


“One day he politely told me that ‘they’ wanted more privacy so could I please go and stay with my own Dad for a while?”

“Don’t tell me…!”

“Yes. And you won’t believe this – my mother just kept quiet and said nothing.”


“So I packed my bags and went over to my father’s place, but it was even worse over there.”

“Even worse?”

“Though she did not say so in so many words, my ‘step-mother’ made it quite clear that I was not very welcome – the vibes, you know those negative vibes – I could feel them every moment.”

“That’s sad.”

“So I spent the next two years of junior college, my 11th and 12th, shuttling between the two places like an unwanted badminton shuttle-cock,” she said, “then I made a deal.”

“A deal?”

“I told them I wanted to go abroad to America for my studies and wanted them to fund it,” she said.

She paused for a moment, had a sip of coffee, and then she said, “you know, all of them were so delighted to hear this. My Dad used his academic connections and went out of the way to get me admission to the best university, and everyone, my Mom, and even my so-called ‘step parents’, are all chipping in to finance my education abroad for as long as I want to study. They all are so happy to get me out of the way.”

“Oh, so that’s why you are going to the States?”

“Yes. I am running away. To a new life,” she said.

Suddenly, her flight was announced, and she got up to leave.

“Thanks for the coffee, Sir,” she said, “it was so nice meeting you.”

“I am sure we will meet again when you come back,” I said.

“I am not coming back, Sir. There is nothing left here for me to come back to. I am leaving behind the baggage of my past over here and I am moving on to begin a new life over there – and I am not going to look back,” she said.

“All the Best. Take Care,” I said.

“You too, Sir, Take Care,” she said, and walked away.

She did not look back.

Copyright © Vikram Karve 2012
Vikram Karve has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Did you like this story?
I am sure you will like the 27 fiction short stories from my recently published anthology of Short Fiction COCKTAIL 

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Foodie Book:  Appetite for a Stroll
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Vikram KarveA creative person with a zest for life, Vikram Karve is a retired Naval Officer turned full time writer. Educated at IIT Delhi, ITBHU Varanasi, The Lawrence School Lovedale and Bishops School Pune, Vikram has published two books: COCKTAIL a collection of fiction short stories about relationships (2011) and APPETITE FOR A STROLL a book of Foodie Adventures (2008) and is currently working on his novel and a book of vignettes and short fiction. An avid blogger, he has written a number of fiction short stories, creative non-fiction articles on a variety of topics including food, travel, philosophy, academics, technology, management, health, pet parenting, teaching stories and self help in magazines and published a large number of professional research papers in journals and edited in-house journals for many years, before the advent of blogging. Vikram Karve has taught at a University as a Professor for 15 years and now teaches as a visiting faculty and devotes most of his time to creative writing. Vikram lives in Pune India with his family and muse - his pet dog Sherry with whom he takes long walks thinking creative thoughts.

Vikram Karve Academic and Creative Writing Journal: http://karvediat.blogspot.com
Professional Profile Vikram Karve: http://www.linkedin.com/in/karve
Vikram Karve Facebook Page:  https://www.facebook.com/vikramkarve
Vikram Karve Creative Writing Blog: http://vikramkarve.sulekha.com/blog/posts.htm
Email: vikramkarve@sify.com

© vikram karve., all rights reserved.


Sandy said...

Very beautifully conveyed. It is not easy. Ever.

Unknown said...

Loved the story! :) There is so much thought in it.

Vikram Waman Karve said...

Hi Sandy and Akanksha:
Thanks for your comments.
I am trying to learn how to write fiction which is suitable for blogs.
My short stories used to be too long for online reading (suitable for print though) owing to the reduced span of attention a reader while reading online.
Please read my blogs and comment.
I look forward to your feedback.

Jannet Loves to Experiment said...

Simple story. Yet it leaves us deep in thought.