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Updated: Dec 4, 2023

Suppose you loved someone unforgettably and built a beautiful bond for years until they left without even a note. How would it make you feel?

“Lovelock” by Priyanka Udatha tells the story of Eshan and Eshita right from the moment they met to the moment Eshita left. Get to know what happens to Eshan, and did they ever meet again?

Cover Photo by Prabhath Narapareddy

I sat in the airport staring at the bracelet with a lot of disappointment. Slowly, I recalled the moments when I laughed with her, touched her silky hair, looked into her eyes and heard her sweet voice that always made me smile. Eshita… my enigma.

As I was lost in my thoughts, a middle-aged man asked, “Could you take your bag?”

Noticing that a lot of other seats were empty, I hesitantly picked up my bag and he sat beside me. After he settled, he said, “That’s a wonderful bracelet. Care to tell me the story behind it?”

Noticing me confused, he continued, “I would like to kill some time. The plane to Stockholm is delayed by two hours.”

Before even answering him, I asked, “Who are you?”

With a smile, he replied, “I’m Sharma… Radha Sharma.”

While I glanced at the man whose name sounded familiar, he asked, “So I would like to know about the mysterious sweetheart behind that bracelet?”

Taking a deep breath, I replied, “It belongs to my girlfriend.”

“Are you visiting her after a long time?”, he enquired curiously.

Unable to bear his questions, I’ve said, “Alright… I will tell you my story.”

My response made a smile reappear on his face. Like a child waiting for a bedtime story, he gawked at me as I started, “During my bachelors in engineering, I was addicted to cricket and seldom attended classes. Fortunately, I scored decently in my exams and was spared from any opposition to my passion. This made me work even hard on my game earning me the name Mr Indivertible.”

With a raised eyebrow, Mr Sharma teased, “She must have diverted this world-class player.”

With a faint smile, I continued, “The first time I saw her, I gave up on stopping a boundary. Three days later, I saw her again shining like a diamond amongst her friends while they were eating breakfast.”

Leaning in his chair, Sharma asked, “These encounters made Mr Indivertible turn into Mr Stalker?”

As I smiled, Mr Sharma smiled along before apologizing. A moment later, I continued, “The issue was that she was my senior but that didn’t stop me from following her and trying my best to earn her affection.”

Taking a deep breath, Sharma concluded, “Alright. She must have accepted you.”

Observing him disappointed, I replied, “Though we became good friends and she knew my intentions, I was rejected because I was younger. Though we loved each other, we were never a couple.”

As I recalled meeting her for the last time, I said, “I still remember the last day I saw her. I stood in the corridor looking at her decent blue cotton dress in which she looked like a bolt of blue. I wished her luck for an interview.”

Confused, Mr Sharma asked, “She must have met you after the interview.”

Reliving the memory, I replied, “After she left, I found this bracelet on the floor. I thought I would return it to her after the interview but she was nowhere to be found. After a long wait, I returned home and tried calling her. However, her phone was switched off and from then, I have never heard from her.”

Placing a hand on my shoulder, Mr Sharma asked, “Shouldn’t you move on?”

Leaning back, I confessed, “I tried but I couldn’t live without her company. I’ve met many more partners at my work but no one could come close to replacing her.”

Taking a deep breath, Mr Sharma asked, “So where are you heading now?”

With a smile, I replied, “On-site work for a couple of months.”

After that, we didn’t talk much until we boarded the airline. The climate in Stockholm was cold and as we exited the airport, Mr Sharma asked, “Instead of staying in a hotel, you could stay at my home if you prefer?”

I could not just reject an Indian’s invitation. So thanking him, we took a taxi to his home. As I unloaded my luggage, Mr Sharma’s son helped him. As I entered their home, Mr Sharma introduced me to his daughter-in-law by saying, “Eshita! Meet Eshan.”

I was just stunned glancing at her.



This contribution is edited by Sreekar Ayyagari & Tarun Chintam & photographed by Prabhath Narapareddy.



This flash fiction is available in paperback & ebook.

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