No Time for Goodbyes by Andaleeb Wajid

and yet not knowing everything.
    â€˜What happened?’ Suma asks and I shake my head before falling back on the bed. In just two days, Manoj has become a good friend. He’s also the only person here with whom I can be myself and he’ll understand. I don’t want anything to have happened to him, I realise. I mutter a few short prayers for his well-being and fall into a troubled sleep.
    When I get up in the morning, I’m confused again. My hand reaches out to my phone and I pick it up and squint at it. It’s got 20% power and no signal. Oh right. I’m still in 1982.
    I get dressed and under Ajji’s watchful eyes, I eat a quick breakfast of idlis smothered with chutney and sambhar. The girls are up too but they aren’t eating yet. They all look at me with envy because a) I’m getting a job and b) I’ll be spending time with Manoj. I try not to think of anything as I eat and then by 8.30, I’m waiting for him near the door.
    â€˜When will you be back?’ Suma asks. I’ve no idea and I tell her as much.
    â€˜Well, have fun then,’ she says as she goes into the room. I’m surprised that she’s not hanging around waiting for Manoj. When Manoj rings the doorbell, I open the door uncertainly. Suddenly I’m not so sure about spending the whole day with him. He’s sure to bug me about the future. But it’s too late to back away now and I step outside after waving a feeble bye at everyone in the house.
    â€˜What’s the date today?’ I ask him as we walk in the direction of the bus stop.
    â€˜20 th December,’ Manoj says.
    â€˜Was your grandfather able to … find a solution?’ I ask him uncertainly, almost afraid of his answer. What if his grandfather has given up?
    â€˜Not yet, but he was working on it the whole day. And most of the night as well.’ Manoj says, looking exasperated.
    â€˜And?’ I ask feeling curious and a little hopeful.
    Manoj shakes his head. ‘We don’t know what triggered the time travel for you. I mean, did you do something? How did you get sucked inside?’ he asks, leaning against the railing of the bus stop. There are a few other student types there and Manoj smiles at a girl in a pink salwar kameez who waves at him. I feel slightly affronted on behalf of my mother and aunts. This guy has conquests everywhere he goes! Hmpf!
    I realise I haven’t answered his question because I’ve been busy watching his exchange with the girl who looks like she’s about to join us.
    â€˜Do you know her?’ I ask without meaning to.
    â€˜Yeah. She’s a junior in college. We travel together sometimes,’ he says, looking away from her and finally facing me.
    â€˜So, I didn’t do anything then,’ I answer his earlier question and he looks momentarily confused.
    â€˜Oh, okay. I wish we knew what to do with the photo once we take it. That’s the only way we can figure out how to send you back,’ he says.
    â€˜Hi!’ It’s the girl in pink who’s sidled up to us now. She’s got a lovely complexion and she’s really pretty. She’s wearing a sleeveless kurta that shows off her arms and her chiffon dupatta is blowing around in the wind. I feel like a troll in my ink blue salwar kurta that I have borrowed from Suma this morning. I mean it does nothing for my skin and from the quick look I’d taken in the mirror, it makes me look slightly pasty.
    â€˜Hey Neelima!’ Manoj says warmly and turns to introduce me to her. Neelima is very impressed when she learns that I’m from Australia. I glare at Manoj after he finishes the introductions because now I’m stuck with one more person who wants to know what Australia is like.
    â€˜Do the kangaroos run on roads?’ she asks me, her eyes wide with wonder. Manoj who is standing behind her tries to keep a straight face while I think of a plausible answer. Where’s the bus? I