The Three Hundred Rupees

The night was unbearably hot. Even the ceiling fan and the stand fan running simultaneously were not enough to keep the heat away. Unable to sleep properly, Anurag tossed and turned on his bed. He got up several times- once to drink water and many times to visit the loo.

At one point, he even opened the window, hoping a cool breeze might drift in. But it was futile. The air outside felt just as warm and still.

“Huh! Look at this—warning for thunderstorms and rain,” Anurag muttered sarcastically after reading the IMD’s weather alert flashing on his mobile phone.

He checked the time. It was almost 2 a.m.

Just as he put the phone aside and lay back down, a WhatsApp message arrived.

It was Nandita.

“Hi. Hpe U dng well. I urgently need Rs 300. Dibo pariba? Wll return next week. Maaney, mor bfrnd needs it jldi.”

The message was written in an alien lingua franca—a mixture of extremely informal English and Assamese.

“What happened? Is everything okay? Where is your boyfriend stuck? Are you sure Rs 300 will solve his problem? Or do you need more?” Anurag replied immediately.

Nandita was a dear friend of his. At least, that was what he believed.

“Nai nai… 300 is fine.”

“Okay. Is this your GPay number?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Sending it.”

He immediately opened GPay and checked his balance—Rs 676.

After a bit of mental calculation, he transferred the money to Nandita’s account.

“Sent,” he texted.

“TY. GN.”

He typed a few words, then deleted them.

“She texted because she needed help. It would be wrong to start a conversation at this hour,” he told himself, his fingers still hovering over the keypad.

“But maybe I should ask what the problem is. What if her boyfriend is in serious trouble?”

A few seconds later, he shook his head.

“Naah. Bad idea. I’ll call her tomorrow morning.”

He kept the phone aside and tried to sleep.

The next morning, he woke up early. In reality, the heat had barely allowed him to sleep at all. He had woken up almost along with the sun’s first rays after several months.

By the time he stepped out of the bathroom after a fresh morning bath, his parents were awake. His mother was in the kitchen making tea, and his dad was sitting at the dining table going through the previous day’s newspaper.

Seeing him up so early, his father looked surprised.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, Dad. Just couldn’t sleep properly.”

His father nodded knowingly.

A few minutes later, the three of them sat together with steaming cups of tea. It was the first time in many months that Anurag was having the day’s first cup with his parents.

For a while, they spoke about nothing important—neighbours, relatives, rising prices, and the weather. Yet somehow, those ordinary conversations felt comforting.

Anyway, days turned into a week and weeks became a month. But neither Nandita’s return call nor the money ever came back.

In fact, Anurag forgot all about it.

Several months later, when winter had quietly settled in, he was casually scrolling through WhatsApp when he stumbled upon an old chat with Nandita.

The conversation was dated around mid-June.

He had casually asked about her boyfriend and when she would return the money.

“Next week for sure. Ws BG, srry.”

Anurag smiled after reading the message.

Then he noticed he could no longer see Nandita’s profile picture.

He dialled the number.

The IVRS informed him that the number was out of service.

He smiled again and left her a message.

The message, however, was never delivered.

That was when he accepted the truth.

The Rs 300 was gone!

He had made peace with the fact that Rs 300 had gone into funding someone else’s love story. A friend, as he had considered her. To her, however, he had probably been nothing more than a convenience.

Years passed.

Anurag got married.

One day, at a wedding on his wife’s side of the family, he unexpectedly bumped into Nandita.

At first, he did not recognise her. Time had changed her considerably.

She was busy clicking selfies with a man who was probably her husband. Interestingly, he was not the same boyfriend.

Anurag walked up to her.

“Hi, Nandita.”

She looked at him for a few seconds before recognition dawned.

“Anu… Anurag… Hey! What a pleasant surprise!”

Her husband glanced at Anurag curiously.

“Oh, excuse me. Raj, he’s Anurag, my college senior and a dear friend. Anurag, this is Raj, my husband.”

The two men exchanged pleasantries.

During the conversation, they discovered that Raj and Anurag’s wife, Sima, were distant cousins.

After a while, Raj excused himself to attend to some work, leaving Anurag and Nandita alone.

“So… how are you? Long time, no see,” Anurag asked.

“Yeah… got busy. So, how are you?”

“Good.”

They spoke about family, jobs, and life in general. The conversation went on and on, and it seemed like a reunion of long-lost friends.

Then, midway through the conversation, Anurag casually said, “But you never returned my money.”

The smile vanished from Nandita’s face.

“Really? I think I returned it.”

She paused, trying to remember whether she had actually not returned it.

“Err… no, Nandita, you did not. In fact, I tried your number, but it was not in service.”

“Hmmm…I changed my number…”

The two looked at each other, smiling awkwardly. Neither seemed to know what to say next. Anurag’s eyes remained fixed on her, but Nandita’s drifted elsewhere, unwilling to hold his gaze for long.

“So you want the money now?” she said, breaking the silence.

“Wha…what?”

“I said, you want the money now? Right now? Wow! We meet after so many years, and you’re still after that petty Rs 300? I never imagined you were such a… leave it! Give me your number. I’ll transfer it right away.” She sounded offended.

“Arey, don’t get hyper. I was just—”

“Shut up! I considered you a good friend and asked for help. And you… After so many years, you just…You have no idea what I’ve gone through all these years. So I couldn’t stay in touch. I never thought you would…” She stopped mid-sentence and shook her head. “Disgusting!”

Nandita walked away, without listening to what Anurag was trying to explain or before he could give her his number.

He kept looking at her as she walked away, joined a group of guests, and started talking and laughing normally.

From a distance, Anurag’s wife Sima had been watching the entire exchange.

After Nandita left, Sima came over.

“Who was she? And what was that all about?”

“That’s Nandita. Remember the story I told you? The Rs 300?”

Sima stared at him for a moment and then burst into laughter.

“Shut up!” Anurag couldn’t help smiling, too.

“I’m hungry,” she said, grabbing his arm. “Come on, let’s eat.”

And together, they headed towards the food counter.

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