SEAT 13-A AND 13-B

 SEAT 13-A AND 13-B

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It had been two decades since they left school, their lives diverging into separate paths. Raghav never thought much about reunions. He was now settled in the United States, married, with a daughter, and his corporate engineering career was thriving.

He was the one who had left for the USA at the start of the tech boom in the early '90s. Life had turned out well, rewarding him with wealth and comfort both in India and abroad. He had made his parents' lives comfortable by providing them with a good home, healthcare, and all the little luxuries they deserved.

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The school WhatsApp group was his bridge to the past. The sun never set on that chat, as friends from Singapore to Seattle filled it with banter, fights, gossip, nostalgia, and the kind of affection only old classmates could share. They covered everything from toothpaste to single malt; no topic was left unattended. It was mostly boys talking, with girls only sharing a forward here and there. Boys talked and fought over cricket politics and Bollywood... and they were friends the next morning. It is so very unlike girls...

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Then one day came the message that stirred something deep within him, i.e the reunion plan. Friends suggested they all meet and celebrate 30 years since leaving school.

Most of them were settled by now, kids themselves in high school, so everyone could afford to take a break for friends... everyone could rebel and ask their spouses for two generous days for themselves.

A wave of nosstalgia swept over him as familiar names popped up in the chat. As he scanned the list of confirmed names for the reunion, Memories he hadn't visited in years came rushing back like slides in an old PowerPoint presentation ....... laughter, mischief, exams, and… Aranya.

Aranya, the girl who had once captured his teenage heart. She had been his classmate from sixth to twelfth grade, the daughter of a government officer who had lived in their town for a brief yet unforgettable chapter.

She was now married to an IAS officer, a match her parents had approved decades ago. Raghav had heard of her wedding back when he was chasing dollar dreams, preparing to fly to America. They had never met after school. Their caste differences had been a wall no teenage love could climb, and time had sealed what youth couldn't.

He had gone into engineering; she had studied humanities and become a professor. Their worlds grew apart, one chasing data, the other chasing change.

She hasn't joined any WhatsApp groups; she has maintained her silence and distance from everything related to her past. Perhaps she feared for her reputation or that of her husband, given their public life, and wanted to maintain a private persona.

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The reunion was set in Delhi, the perfect midpoint, offering excellent flight connectivity. It was planned as a 24-hour affair, from lunch to breakfast the next morning.

Raghav wasn't sure he would go. But when he saw Aranya's name on the confirmed list, something inside him shifted. A tug he couldn't ignore made him book his ticket.

He arrived a day early, joining a few old friends for pre-reunion drinks. Laughter came easily, as if thirty years hadn't passed. They hurled insults, making fun of each other while reminiscing about their school cricket days and each other's crushes.

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The next afternoon, they gathered in the hotel lobby to collect their customized reunion T-shirts. And that's where Raghav saw her after three long decades.

Aranya stood near the coffee counter, in a simple cotton kurta and jeans, her hair tied neatly, her smile still radiant. Time had softened her edges, but her warmth was unchanged. She looked uncomfortable, having a teacher like persona... Her study of humanities had landed her a job as a professor at a local college; however, she had to change jobs frequently, given her husband's transferable job.

They exchanged polite greetings at first, but their eyes spoke of years gone by, of what was and what could never be.

As the evening unfolded, the reunion became a a cocktail of music, laughter, games, and glitter.

The event planners had gone all out with a teenage-like, school-dance theme, complete with gold-themed décor, live music, and champagne, as well as single malt whiskies that flowed like a river.

Raghav found himself lost in moments but occasionally glancing at Aranya, wondering if she felt the same mix of nostalgia and quiet ache, he felt like touching and hugging her.. have her in his arms.. kiss her.... all drunk mans fantasies .. Aranya was gaurding her emotions, not letting them show on her face,, she had the same thoughts as raghav.

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Later that night, the skies over Delhi opened up.

It started as a drizzle, then grew into a relentless and punishing downpour. By midnight, thunder rolled across the city like cannon fire.

Inside the hotel, no one cared. The music drowned the storm. But outside, Delhi was sinking.

By 3 a.m., major roads were flooded. Cars stalled. Trees fell. And at the airport, chaos. The canopy at Terminal 1, the old structure that greeted millions of travellers every year, gave way under the crushing weight of rainwater.

With a deafening crack, the massive steel beams twisted and collapsed onto parked vehicles below.

Car alarms wailed in the storm. The canopy's corrugated sheets crashed onto taxis and shuttle vans, trapping drivers and passengers beneath the metal debris

News broke like wildfire: "Delhi Airport Terminal 1 canopy collapses amid record rainfall; flights cancelled."

Raghav and his friends read the news on their phones between gulps of coffee, their expressions alternating between disbelief and shock. The images were horrifying: crumpled cars, twisted steel, flashing emergency lights.

By morning, many flights were cancelled. Terminals overflowed with stranded passengers.

The other terrminal was ok, and some flights were flying as per the schedule...

Delhi, the city of endless movement, had come to a standstill within a couple of hours. From evening to morning, the town changed its avatar.

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When the group checked out after breakfast, the chaos outside was unlike anything Raghav had ever seen.

A couple of Flights were suspended. Passengers were being rerouted. Traffic was gridlocked. The collapse of the canopy had forced Terminal 1 to close indefinitely.

Most of their classmates managed to leave by road or train. However, Aranya's flight home and Raghav's were both postponed.

And so, fate handed them something neither expected: two unexpected days in Delhi.

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"It's strange how life works sometimes," Aranya said as they sat across from each other at a café later that afternoon.

"A storm, a collapse, and suddenly, we have time."

Raghav smiled. "Maybe the universe knew we needed to finish an unfinished chapter."

They spent those two days like old friends rediscovering a shared language, walking through rain-washed streets, visiting an art café in Hauz Khas, catching a movie, and reminiscing about the past.

They spoke of careers, children, ageing parents and eventually, the quiet ache of what might have been.

"I never said yes because I knew my parents would never approve," she confessed.

He nodded, silently. The words brought a strange peace closure he didn't know he needed. The heart was heavy and light at the same time. She liked him, but she was helpless and that made him feel good about himself...

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When flights finally resumed, Raghav impulsively booked himself onto the same flight as Aranya.

They sat side by side, in seats 13A and 13B, watching the clouds drift past each other, lost in thought, occasionally brushing hands, letting silence say what words never could.

Midair, she leaned gently on his shoulder, her eyes closed, as if trying to lock the moment in her heart to freeze time, to hold on to something fleeting yet eternal.

She did not want the flight to land.

But planes, like life, always have to come down.

As the wheels touched the runway, Aranya turned to him, her eyes glistening.

“I’m glad we had this time,” she whispered.

“So am I,” he replied softly.

At the arrivals gate, a government vehicle was waiting for her. Sjhe gave him one last look, half a smile, half a sigh, before stepping into the drizzle.

Raghav stood there, watching until she disappeared, until the taillights blurred into the grey of the rain.

Later, as he waited for his connecting flight back to the US, the airrport television screens replayed the visuals of the collapsed canopy twisted beams, drenched rescue workers, and flashing red lights.

He watched in silence, the images echoing in his mind.

He thought about how fragile everything was steell, love, time, life itself.

One night of relentless rain, and what seemed indestructible could fall apart in seconds.

Maybe that’s why those two days had mattered so much. Because everything, even the strongest structures, eventually gives way.

But memories, and moments like those, endure.

And that, he realized, was venough. Enough for this lifetime.

He now knew that Aranya cared for him; she had, perhaps, always had.

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She was happy in her world: a loving husband, a daughter, a family that cherished her.

Her happiness mattered the most.

With a heart full of peace and gratitude, Raghav boarded his flight back to the life he had built, his engineer wife, his highschool child, and the quiet comfort of knowing, though it was not forever, but sometimes, two days are enough.