The Thirteen Minute Date
“Hey, I have reached. Where are you?” Piya clic ked on the send button as she stepped out of the yellow taxi. She took out a crisp hundred rupees note from her purse and handed it over to driver, waiting for him to pass on the change. The driver chuckled instead, revealing his tobacco stained teeth from over the mask hanging around his chin. “ Chhutte nahi hain, Madam! ” (I do not have any change Madam!) “Of course,” Piya sighed. She had forgotten that expecting change from a taxi driver in Calcutta was as Utopian as expecting her date to turn up on time. A city stuck in time, she thought. Unable to spit out a hateful reply, Piya simply said: “ Aap pehle mask thik se peheniye. ” (Wear your mask properly.) Without a care in the world, the driver gave her one last smile and swirled his way into the broad street canopied by Christmas lights. Piya took a minute to admire the festive frame, long curled up in a corner of her mind. It had been two years since she visited her hometown – two ye...