The Legend from Runisia by Vishal Kadiri (the best ebook reader for android TXT) 📕

things for him and for me as well. But, gave it a try. To my surprise, he picked at the first ring.

‘Hi Meghana.’ that voice still has some effect on me.

‘Hi, I need your help. I need to find a person. Can you help me?’ I advanced the call

On the other line, ‘I’m a doctor. Not detective. Remember’ he giggled.

‘Actually, looking up for a patient. Indeed.’

He replied, ‘Who? Anyone dearer?’

‘No. Actually for a case of mine.’

‘Okay. Will find out.’

‘Thank you. I’ll message you the details.’ As I was about to hung up on him

Thrashing the line, ‘Meghana! How are you?’

‘Ashok. Please. I wanted this to be professional.’

‘Sure.’ his voice went low.

‘Thank you, Ashok’ I hung up the call finally.

We once used to talk on regular basis. It feels odd now. Facing your past relationship is the most difficult thing. I hope he didn’t take it the bad way, when I hung up on him. I should have not; should have behaved a little matured. I know, he is a busy person. Still, he didn’t deny to help me. I still have importance in his life. Hospitals are the difficult places to search now. It has been a week. The after effects of the bomb blast is still haunting the people. Beds are full. People on rage and empathetic at the same time. Roads are busy with continuous rallies and candle marches. The incident has really shaken Mumbai. Hope, Rahim is not guilty. If he is, then I need to take his interview, why did he plan to destroy the peace and how did he end up doing it.

*****

Looking up for more information on terrorism, anti-national groups and their details about fake passports. Never came across a case file of any terrorist who faked his passport with a non-existent country. I pulled up the browser to look up for country Runisia. There isn’t such country nor City Qubit has any existence. But there is a software company called Fenix in Scotland which has no other branches and nothing related to chemical engineering.

As my fingers toggling between tabs, came across this article from last night that spoke about the supernaturalness. I’m highly into science fiction movies and existence of cosmic beings, where people come from stranger lands and different time. That hit a cord. This a very far-fetched and highly unbelievable theory and also not proven scientifically. But still Rahim’s mystery fits right with the idea. This can be a good theory for movies and books, but impossible in reality. So, I didn’t distillate much and kept scrolling down. A person hailing from non-existential country with genuine passports of fake country. Why would anyone do that? It is stupidity to fake a country and still submit your passport at the Airport authority. He should’ve had bigger plan behind all this or he is simply telling the truth.

*****

Ashok on the call ‘Meghana, I traced her. She is admitted to Memorial Hospital after the incident’

‘Thank you, Ashok.’ I observed, pleasure in my reply

‘She is getting discharged today.’

‘I’ll be there in no time, please try and hold her from leaving, till I come.’

‘Don’t worry. Even I’m here. Stopped by, to meet a friend’.

‘Oh! Great. I’ll meet you there then,’ I paused for a second and checked ‘I mean, you are okay to meet Right?’

‘Of course,’ he said. I hung the call again, took my bag. Stared at the mirror, to check my dress. I’m meeting Ashok after a long time. I wish I have done some makeover. Is he really meeting a friend, or made an excuse to meet me in person? ‘Ahh!’ No time, I thought while hurrying down the steps, dangling the hand bag round my waist. Lost in the memories, when I rushed to meet Ashok for the very first time.

*****

Memorial hospital, Mumbai East      

13th August, 2011.

I hate the smell of hospitals. My head goes whirring, when I see blood and the odd taste stays on my tongue. Ashok always took care that I never come here to meet him. He cared so much about me.

I’m going mad, looking at people; their arms and legs cut off, operated and banded round on edges, making them walk on sticks. I saw kids who could probably have a bright future in sports; unfortunately, cannot play with their friends from tomorrow. What sin these kids have done, to be suffering like this? Ashok signals me from the corridor. I saw him after 2 years. Trying to control myself. He hasn’t changed much; looking much handsome than before.

Meghana, behave properly. Don’t lose control. Don’t smile. Be normal. Walking towards him.

‘I already took permit from administration. “409” is Aditi’s Room.’

‘Ok let’s go.’ he still smells the same, pleasant and refreshing

‘Yeah, but make it quick. Please.’

‘Sure.’ I continued my stare at him.

‘This way.’ We got into the elevator, only two of us.

We both had a thing for closed spaces. Now, we have a big distance between us even in this small empty elevator. As the doors opened. He led my way. The hall was square and as large as a room, walled and floored in old pine which had been stripped and waxed to a fresh colour, a shade darker than gold. There were curtains in yellow checkers. Sofas with feather-filled pillows. Old oil lamps converted to take electric bulbs. A chair for the visitor accompanied with a desk filled with medical sheets and tiny boxes of colourful pills.

‘I’ve ordered coffee for you both.’ Ashok said.

‘Thank you.’ I replied with a bright smile which made him happy.

‘I’ve a small meeting.’ looking at his watch ‘Meghana, I’ll join you in few minutes’

‘Sure. Ashok. I’ll be here.’ I guess that’s what he wanted to hear, then he smiled and left.

She was medium height, fair skinned and beautiful. She lifted herself slowly to sit down. Her face was open and friendly, and her wrist had a hospital band with her name and age scribbled on it. She smelled of lemon scent and was dressed in regular