Free No Time for Goodbyes by Andaleeb Wajid Page B

kept repeating it all day. But nothing seems to work. I don’t know why,’ he says, shaking his head sadly. Leaning forward, he kisses my forehead and steps back. Before I know it, he’s walking away. I want to call out to him to remind him that I’m supposed to go with him to his house but my throat seems to have stopped working. Never mind. I know the way. I’ll go on my own. I’m so overwhelmed with everything that I just want to go back to 2012 and forget all of this is happening because it doesn’t make sense to me.
    I take a big gulp of air and look towards Ajji’s house and my heart sinks. Suma is at the window, arms crossed, staring at me.

Seventeen
    M ANOJ’S HOUSE IS COMPLETELY dark. I wonder if his grandfather has forgotten to pay the electricity bill but then I ring the doorbell and it peals and I step back, wondering if Manoj will open the door. I’ve no idea what I will tell him or how I will face him.
    I’ve spent the past half hour battling a deathly stare from Suma. After deliberating between becoming my friend and disliking me, she’s finally decided that she will not be talking to me. I got ready and Ajji gave me coffee but Suma who it seems cannot resist being in the same room as me, has been giving me the silent treatment. I really don’t know how to counter it, just as I don’t know how to counter it when mom starts behaving this way in the present day.
    I inform Ajji that Manoj’s grandfather wants to see me and note that Suma is rolling her eyes indicating that it’s a likely story and that I’m probably just going to see Manoj. I ignore her and step out of the house, trying to follow the way we had taken on Sunday. Was that just two days back? How could my life have changed so much in just two days?
    Manoj’s grandfather opens the door and I don’t know if I’m relieved or disappointed. He motions me to follow him and I go on inside. The old man switches on the light in the hall and I realise this house with all its dust is making me feel claustrophobic.
    â€˜Sit,’ he says and I look around and sit down on the closest chair. He shuffles forward and sits down as well.
    The house is so silent I can hear the ticking of the grandfather clock on the wall. A loud bong from it startles me, and I realise that it’s 5.30 although it seems like much later.
    â€˜Where’s Manoj?’ I ask to fill the silence. The old man shrugs.
    â€˜He went out. Said that he’ll be back by night.’
    I nod, knowing that I’m the reason Manoj isn’t here. I try to focus on the reason why I’m here.
    â€˜You wanted to talk to me?’ I ask, looking down at my lap.
    â€˜Yes, tell me everything. Describe everything that happened,’ he says. I start talking and I tell him about going to the attic, reading my book there and then getting the call from my mother. Then I tell him about finding the photo from the floor.
    â€˜What happened when you picked it up?’ he asks, leaning forward, his eyes squinting a bit as though he is recording this in his funny-shaped head.
    â€˜I just thought that their clothes were funny and I didn’t know who Manoj was,’ I say, feeling a strange heaviness settle at the centre of my chest when I talk about him.
    â€˜Anything else?’ he asks. I shut my eyes tight trying to recall that afternoon. Then it hits me suddenly and I sit up straight.
    â€˜I was able to smell almond oil and I heard something that sounded like waves crashing on the shore,’ I tell him, excited. He looks up, a little surprised.
    â€˜What?’ he asks, shaking his head slowly and then falling silent as though he’s contemplating what it means.
    â€˜Is there a connection to me finding that photo 30 years later and getting sucked into it the very moment it was taken?’
    â€˜I’m trying to understand that, young lady. Time travel through photos has been a dream of