Rohit stood at the bus stop with his friends waiting for her. It was his routine. Everyday he would wake up, get dressed and head for the bus stop to take the University Special bus to College. She too would walk to the bus stop from her house at sharp 8 o’clock. Her lovely shoulder length hair would shine in the sunlight. Sometimes, she would be attired in a pretty salwar kameez but more often than not in a jeans and kurta. He preferred her in a salwar kameez. Those days, she would sport a tiny bindi on her forehead and matching bangles on her wrists. He would wait for her to step in the bus and then follow her inside. But he never mustered the courage to sit next to her.

               Days and months and a year flew past. Ronit found out her name was Shalini and just like him, she was in the second year of College but while she was pursuing an honors degree in English, he was studying Economics. He would whisper her name to himself every night. Her father was a doctor. Rohit’s father was an engineer. He would wonder whether a doctor would agree to marry off his daughter to the son of an engineer. Of course, Rohit realized that he after his graduation. His friends knew about his dreams and prodded him to talk to Shalini. One day, he met her eyes and smiled. Wonder of wonders! She smiled back. His heart skipped a beat. It became a pattern. Rohit and Shalini met at the bus stop and smiled at each other. Rohit’s friends encouraged him to say, “hello”. However, his nerves failed him. He sat next to her on the bus one Tuesday and he could feel her expectation of the start of a conversation. But he didn’t have a clue how to start talking to her. Should he just say, “Hi,” or ask Shalini her name? The next twenty minutes were spent in silence. Rohit’s friends later teased him about it. Rohit defended himself by stating that silence was more beautiful than words.

                Time rolled past and they neared the end of their graduation. Rohit’s friends warned him that if he didn’t talk to Shalini, he would lose touch with her after graduation. They would each go their own separate ways and they would never see each other. Rohit’s heart sank as the truth hit him. It was now or never. He must talk to her. D day arrived. It was a Thursday. He followed her as she stepped inside the bus.

                “What’s the time?” he blurted out.
She turned and smiled at him wistfully.
“Too late,” she said and flashed the diamond on her left hand ring finger at him.

Sushma R Doshi completed her graduation in History from Loreto College, Kolkata. She then acquired a PhD in International Studies from Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi. She dabbles in fiction and poetry. Her short stories have been published in Contemporary Literary Review India, Everyday Fiction, Muse India, Litera ly Stories andBorderless Journal amongst others. Her short story “Magic” in Syncopation Literary Journal has been nominated for the Pushcart prize.