Monsoon of Longing - Unfinished Conversations

Tanuja dialed Kavita’s number one evening after work.

“Guess what,” she began, her voice bubbling with excitement. “I’m coming to Pune next weekend.”

Kavita squealed. “Finally! You’re serious? When?”

“Friday evening. Back on Sunday evening.” Tanuja teased, lowering her voice. “Hope I can stay at your place. I wouldn’t want to disturb Mr. Rohit.”

Kavita groaned. “Oh, shut up! We’re not living together.”

“I know, I know,” Tanuja laughed, “but I’m sure you two have had your… moments there.” She giggled, enjoying Kavita’s mock outrage.

“You’re impossible,” Kavita muttered, but she was smiling. “Fine, come over.”

“Surprise,” Tanuja added quickly. “I’m coming with a plus one.”

Friday evening arrived. The train compartment smelled faintly of iron and dust, the way only Indian trains do. Ayushman and Tanuja found their seats across from each other, the silence between them thick at first. She busied herself arranging her bag. Ayushman broke the silence. “So, what’s going on? How’s work?”

She explained how she had become one of the top performers in her company, now leading a small team. Her work was being well-appreciated by the client.

“You were always top-notch,” Ayushman said with a half-smile. “And life? Boyfriend?”

Tanuja hesitated, then answered plainly. “I had one. We broke up.” She looked out the window as she continued. “He’s a very successful investment banker. polished, full of chivalry. For a while, it felt like we were made for each other. But then came the emptiness.”

Ayushman didn’t know what to say. He nodded slowly, his fingers tapping against his knee. After a while, he quietly slipped a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and started walking toward the washroom. Tanuja caught him with a wide-eyed glare and motioned for him to sit back down. Like an obedient schoolboy, he slid back into his seat. “Why don’t you quit?” she said firmly.

He didn’t reply. After a moment, he muttered, “I’m going to sleep now,” and leaned back, closing his eyes.

Tanuja sat quietly, her gaze drifting out the window to the dark sky and the pale moon hanging above the fields. The rhythmic clanking of the bogies seemed to echo the unsettled beat of her heart. Outside, trees flashed by in shadows, villages blinked awake for a second in the glow of a lone lantern, only to disappear into darkness again. It felt like her own life rushing past that glass - moments of warmth, of love, of laughter, gone too quickly, swallowed back by silence.

She thought of her relationships, the polished boyfriend with his tailored suits and gentle manners, the picture-perfect life that somehow felt hollow. The truth stung: The void was always been the absence of Ayushman. Maybe, she wondered, he, too, had been searching for someone to fill the empty space she had left behind. But love isn’t a room you can furnish with anyone. It is like the moonlight outside; it belongs to the one who first showed you how beautiful the night could be. Somewhere between those thoughts and the rhythm of the train, she drifted into sleep.

By the time the sun rose, they were rolling into Pune. Kavita was waiting at the station. The moment she spotted them, she squealed and almost jumped with excitement. She hugged Ayushman tightly, then slapped him lightly on the arm.

This is for disappearing on me all these years! You don’t even know how much I hated you for that.” Ayushman grinned sheepishly, rubbing his arm.

Kavita pulled Tanuja to the side, whispering, “Wait, you said +1. Does that mean you both are… again?”

Tanuja laughed nervously. “No, nothing like that.”

That afternoon, they all sat down for lunch. Between bites, old memories poured out — college stories, endless teasing, and laughter that came too easily after years apart. Someone pulled out a pirated copy of How I Met Your Mother on Kavita’s laptop, and soon they were sprawled across the floor, watching and laughing like they were still students.

Later in the evening, Kavita’s boyfriend Rohit joined them for dinner. A bottle of wine was opened, and the laughter grew louder. The conversation drifted toward Kavita’s life. Ayushman asked casually, “So… no more music? Not even practice?”

Kavita smiled faintly, shaking her head. “No. I’ve settled into my work now. It pays the bills, gives me stability. I don’t need to chase music anymore.” Rohit, sitting beside her, nudged gently. “But you should. You were incredible, Kavita. Maybe not professionally, but at least as a passion. You light up when you sing.”

Kavita laughed softly, slipping her hand into his. “I don’t need it now. I find peace here, with him. And besides… we’ve decided. Next year, we’re getting married.”

There was a stunned silence for a second, then Ayushman grinned and clapped. “Wow, Wow, Wow!” Tanuja joined, and soon the table erupted in cheers, glasses clinking together, the wooden table thudding under their hands. Kavita blushed, leaning against Rohit as the laughter and applause filled the room.

The next morning, they went shopping together, wandering the crowded streets of Pune, eating snacks from roadside stalls, trying on clothes they didn’t plan to buy. By evening, it was time to leave. The goodbye at the station was warm but quick. Kavita squeezed Tanuja’s hand, hugged Ayushman once more, and waved them off with a wide smile. On the train back to Bengaluru, the silence between Tanuja and Ayushman had shifted. It was no longer heavy or awkward, but comfortable. They sat side by side in the same sleeper seat. After a while, Tanuja leaned back, her eyes closing, and her head slipped gently onto his shoulder.

Ayushman stared out the window, watching the dark fields and flickering village lights pass by. They reminded him of the journey two nights ago, of Tanuja’s words about emptiness and of everything they had left unsaid. His mind drifted back to Kavita. She had chosen stability with Rohit; no hesitation, no second thoughts, only certainty. With Tanuja, it was different. She had never truly moved on from him; he knew that. But she had always placed her career, her parents, and her duties above everything else; above him. That was who she was: disciplined, driven, and bound by expectations.

Almost without realizing, he brushed a loose strand of hair from her face. She stirred, half-asleep, tightened her hold on his hand, and drifted back into slumber on his shoulder. Ayushman froze, his heart pounding louder than the clattering wheels beneath them. He wanted to believe this meant everything. But another thought whispered at the back of his mind: what if he was only the space she allowed herself when her world permitted it?