That Indian Woman | √

Chapter 14

This story is dedicated to my friend  ultimatefictionlover for being the best friend she is!

Alex:

I stared at the flimsy carry bag for the umpteenth time. I found it when I was surveying the Office front. And I had a clear idea who it belonged to.

Anvesha.

I had seen the exact copy of the bag hanging from her shoulder earlier...no wait, she was always holding it.

I wondered what she kept in it. I had an urge to check what's inside it, but it belonged to a woman. Mother almost taught me not to go through a woman's stuff.

Frustrated, I fell back on the bed. Jordan and Matt were downstairs, eating dinner at the mess. I had already done it. I hadn't told them about this purse. I really had no idea why, but I didn't wish to tell them in the future.

But then how would I return this to her?

I could just give it to Matt, who in return give it to her. But I didn't want to. I felt like it should be me who returned this to her.

I got up from the bed and threw the bag in my almirah, making sure both of my friends didn't see it. I covered the bag with few of my shirts. Tomorrow I would think of what to do with it.

I readied myself for the night and retired to bed.

Sleep was supposed to be the first thing that I should have done but instead I found myself thinking about the events that happened earlier today.

The image of her intimidating stature flashed in front of my eyes. I had never seen an Indian woman, hell, not even any woman, show this much courage to go against the power they were under. She has something in her; the fire that the people of India need at this time.

I had heard that her people went against her, from the guards. It was a pity. I almost found myself feeling sorry for her, but I refrained from it.

I couldn't forget that she slapped me. I shuddered involuntarily at the thought. I couldn't believe that it had been almost a month now after that incident. A month of our stay in India.

I thought about the bag. It was a great excuse to...to...to what exactly?

I shook my head. I had no idea, but it excited me to return that flimsy bag to her. Then I would be able to meet and mock her about her failure today.

You don't want to do that, said something within me, probably the kind angel in me.

I scoffed. It was exactly what I wanted to do and no "kind angel" existed within me.

Before I knew, my eyes had become heavy. So I pulled my covers on top of me and drifted off to sleep.

***

Someone was shaking me and all I wanted to do was punch them.

"...wake up!" He shouted.

My eyes snapped open. I squinted but then adjusted to the amount of light in the room. I looked up to the person who was intent on pulling me from my dream.