A Christmas Miracle

What happens when you meet a stranger a day before Christmas and suddenly you get to know that person was your best friend or more than a best friend? What happens when that person has gone away from you again and you don't remember anything about them before that day but there is a scraping feeling inside your stomach that doesn't go away, since the day you have met them? Once upon a time, there was a girl and a boy. The girl and boy met on a snowy morning, a day before Christmas. The boy hated Christmas, the girl loved Christmas. The girl didn't knew she had met the guy before, the boy did, he remembered her. What happens when they fight that day, and the boy tells her that they have met before, what happens when she doesn't believe him and he goes away. What happens when Misha couldn't shake off the image of the brown curly haired boy, the black gold eyes that looked at her with such intensity, that she felt the ghost of him in every single moment, what happens when Misha opens her bag and can't help but look at the paintings she made, the paintings she didn't remember making, the boy had asked her a question, "What about Art?" She had never once remembered making any art in her life, she was a math student for god's sake. What happens when it gets too much, and on the morning of Christmas, Misha goes to the only person in the world she can trust, Gem, her grandmother. What happens when she tells her grandmother, the boy's name, 'Aakash,' and her grandmother looks at her in shock, and says that she have been dying for Misha to ask this question for years. What happens when her grandmother tells her, that for four years she have been taking Aakash's name in front of Misha but Misha forgot about it every next day. What happens when her grandmother tells her, "You were so little and so in love.." But Misha can't remember anything, why can't she remember anything about Aakash, why can't she relate to any of her grandmother's story. Amid, all this, Misha knows one thing, she has to find Aakash, she can feel it from the depth of her gut. What happens when one year passes and Misha looses all hope to find Aakash, but one midnight, a bell jangles and she sees the same messy brown curls she has been trying to find every corner, and what happens when those black gold eyes meet hers, and it passes over her like it would any strangers. What happens when this time Misha approaches Aakash, he is the one to ask, "Who are you?" And with a dreadful punch she realizes, Aakash Acharya has forgotten all about her, all about them, even the day they met last year, for him she is nothing but a new page of a book. How can they both forget about each other at different paces of time? Would Misha give up, or would she beyond all measure, fight for their story, the story they both don't even remember anymore? What if, this was all a miracle gifted to them by Universe. Beyond time and place, magic and reality, there is a story that started at the depths of snowy mountains, will the story end at the depths of the snowy mountains, would they find their lost parts, or would they dare to make new ones? ******** And then, she turned her head. He felt a punch to his gut, like a snow storm erupting inside of him. His breathing stopped when he looked at her, he was afraid that this moment would vanish, that he would blink and it would all be a dream. Her doe-like eyes which he knew so well, dreamed about so often, regarded him carefully, as if she was trying to understand something about him, her brows were hunched together and she was staring at him, just as he was staring at her. He held his breath and waited for something. She asked his name. The universe was playing a fucking cosmic joke on him, Misha Negi didn't remember him. ******* @All the copyright of the story belongs to me.

Skindledreams · Urban

Not enough ratings

16 Chs

23rd December, 2020

Raj Jagdeep Bisht must have seen something in Misha's eyes or he just pitied them standing in the cold, because he moved aside with a grunt and let them pass from the entry gate in school.

Misha keeps dragging Aakash, as they walk from the entry gate to the gravel covered in snow, being crunched by their boots and Aakash wants her to remember, he wants to say so many things to her, ask her, he doesn't know where to start.

She heads in the direction of the basketball court, hand in hand and when they are a safe distance away Misha turns to Aakash with glittering doe eyes and beams at him, as if she is telling him a joke, she is, "What did the guard uncle think we were doing?" She laughs and rolls her eyes. "I mean I have a boyfriend for god's sake, of course Bisht uncle wouldn't know that, you know he is also coming for the entrance, I wonder where he is, I told him to be early."

Aakash stops in his tracks, without realising he clutches his arm away from hers so fast that she jolts in surprise with a gasp. He wants to say, stop this, stop joking, it's enough.

But he looks at her shocked face and decides that he needs to be away from her, that he needs to think, because his Misha was pathetic at acting.

He feels like someone is forcing down snow in his throat with a shovel. "I... I am sorry. I just... need to go to the... washroom."

A look of relief crosses in her eyes, and he hates himself when he realises that he scared her. "Oh okay, no problem," she gives him an uncertain smile, I am scaring her, I need to be away. "I know where the washrooms are, I have been to this school for a competition once, have you?" she asks him.

Shit. He shakes his head slightly. Been to the school? Since when she is in Manali! His heart is ridged by knife to the ground; he can almost feel it bleeding right now.

"Come on, I will show you, we have to cross this cricket and basketball field first. And what were you saying outside, so you don't remember thing?" she asks, her eyebrows knitted in a frown.

He freezes, no, no, no. If he will once start, he won't be able to stop then, the four years has been like a slow death to him. He [ro1] can't believe himself, is there a camera around him and she is playing a prank on him? He looks at the basketball field, at the trees with no leaves due to winter, its branches covered in snow, at the snow covered mountains surrounding the open school, and finds no cameras, his heart is splintering in his chest but he forces himself to say, "That you didn't remember to bring cap in this weather, here." He says putting out his Mack Weldon hat from his head and holding out to her, he never offered the cap to anyone not even to his sisters whom he almost never denied anything, how could he when Misha had gifted this to him when they were twelve.

"No, no, it's fine." Misha says flapping her hands, laughing awkwardly, her double braided plates moving with her head, he searches for any movement of her eyes that would stick extra minute on the cap or anything, it doesn't, all she says is, "It's totally fine, I can't take this."

You used to snatch away things from me and loved to announce them as yours.

Her ears were red, and she was shivering a little, he realised. He saw the snow on her jacket and hair, and forced the cap in her hands. "Please, I insist, now come on, show me the washroom."

She smiles at him, and puts the cap over her head; the image of something she had given to him that he kept on wearing for five years like a lunatic, on her was so overwhelming and personal, that it hurt him to breathe; it felt like pins were prickling inside of him. He remembered those times when they were little and she insisted on using his stationeries instead of hers, and said bossily all of your colours are mine, now sit and let me paint.

They hurry through the basketball field to two connected red brick building's corridor that occupies washroom, as she tells him, and he asks her very carefully, "Do you paint or something?"

She stops and turns to him, her hand goes to her bag, her doe eyes a little wide, as if protectively she clutches onto the tinsel and garland key ring, Aakash's heart speeds up, and then she says, her voice dry, "I used to, I don't anymore, why?"

Aakash stills and gulps dryly, he looks at the snow falling on the field and thinks, how much can change about a person you thought you knew so much. He turns towards her with a smile that sledgehammers his heart, "You looked like an Artist type."

She looks at him weirdly, almost warily, her eyes since they met goes up and down his body, almost speculating, and he feels a flare of hope in the corner of his chest again. Maybe she is just pretending.

She keeps looking at him like that, and his stomach keeps flipping to his heart, she looks like as if she wants to say something, he desperately wants her to. She is biting her lips, a thing she did when she was nervous, then all of a sudden, she shakes her head, her teeth freeing her full lips and she motions her hand towards a left corridor, his stomach falls to his legs.

He is on the verge of pleading to her on his knees, but he follows her, the click of their boots on the hallway, sounding loud, alive, and echoing.

"Here we are," she says pointing towards a brown panel door that says Men's Washroom, "I will wait for you outside."

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