🌠 The Fourteenth Meteor
Night of December 14th, 02:00 AM.
"How many did you see?" Megha, Gaurav's online friend from Delhi, asked excitedly over the phone.
He replied smugly, holding the speaker away from his mouth. "Ugh, not that many. It was just my fourteenth one." He let out a light giggle.
"You fucking lucky bastard," Megha's voice was full of envy and mirth. "I was the one who told you about tonight's meteor shower, and I can't see a single star in the polluted sky of Delhi!"
Tonight was the peak of the Geminid meteor shower, promising countless starry moments from midnight to the early morning hours. Megha, a dedicated amateur astronomer, had waited for this night and told all her friends so they could enjoy it too. Gaurav was the only one who responded to her, watching the stars from a distance on a video call.
"So, what did you wish for?" Megha asked.
"You know what I would wish for, and anyway, it's not supposed to be told to anyone. Otherwise, the wish won't be fulfilled," Gaurav sighed. He had been a bit dull lately.
"Come on, Gaurav, it's been years! It was just a B.Tech degree. Shit happens. There are thousands—no, maybe lakhs—of students who drop out of college," Megha said with a hint of anger.
Gaurav, looking away from the sky, finally looked at her face on the blue screen. The light shone on his handsome face, his glasses reflecting the glow. "First, there's no way lakhs of students are dropping out; that many aren't even getting admission. And second, I don't care about the degree itself anymore. It's been years, and I'm mature enough not to waste my life in regrets."
He was mature, yes, but he was undeniably regretful. "It's just that I could have been so much more if I hadn't wasted those five years of my life."
Megha sighed from the other side, rubbing her forehead. "Gaurav, you achieved your dreams even after that failure, didn't you? You got the government job, you married Priti who loves to feed you with her own hands. You have more money than ever. What else could you desire? Everything is perfect."
Megha was a proper Delhi girl—modern, pretty, and she made up for any perceived flaws with style and confidence. (Ugh, also with her perfect hourglass figure—her words, not mine.)
"Oh, really? Then tell me why you attempted NEET five times to become a doctor? Even after dropping out of your nursing college and failing your fifth attempt, you still went for a sixth and finally cracked it, luckily," Gaurav shot back agitatedly, clearly more than a little burned. "And here you are in your final year of MBBS."
Megha looked at him with dead eyes. "Luckily? That's what you think about all my efforts? Wow, Gaurav. Just wow... Thank you for that."
"Then think from my perspective, too," he argued, slamming his hand on the ground. He was at an abandoned cricket ground with no nearby buildings, only darkness to better see the stars. "I had so much potential! I could have been a software engineer at Microsoft or Google, or an entrepreneur, or maybe even a Foreign Minister, if not for that damn Corona lockdown!"
Megha sighed and spoke with weight in her voice. "Gaurav, wake up. This is life; not everything goes according to plan. You can't have everything. Sometimes you need to learn to live with your regrets and let go of the past. Otherwise, you won't ever be happy and—"
"Megha, it's already past midnight, and Mom is telling you to sleep already," came the high-pitched voice of Rimmo, Megha's little sister.
Gaurav looked at Rimmo through the screen. "Yeah, you should go now. It's late, and whatever. I don't want to listen to your nonsense."
Megha sighed again. "Neither do I. Good night." And she hung up the call.
02:43:51 hours.
Gaurav looked at the screen, which showed their talk time. Megha had been his friend since his early years, when he was recovering from five years of depression. He was one of the victims, not the beneficiaries, of the Corona lockdown. He had wasted time and then became depressed for reasons he never fully understood.
2019 to 2024—that was the worst period of his life. But he recovered. He set his life back on track: loved again, got a government job everyone would die for, earned the respect his parents wished for, married Priti who loved him too much, and had a cute daughter. Everything a man could desire.
All of this in just six years. It was December 14th, 2031, today.
He was good enough, not great, but definitely better than most. He was a genius, after all. Just a failed one...
He looked up at the sky and saw a star fall through the beautiful night. He smiled and made a wish: "I wish I could go back in time, because I want to live my life again to fulfill my potential."
As if his wish were acknowledged, the world and the sky flashed for a millisecond. The star that was falling straight suddenly turned its direction like a drifting car and started accelerating toward him.
"OHHH FUCKING HELL! JUST KILL ME!"
Gaurav only saw a blinding light and then BOOM.
Next day, there was a headline on TV: "See how PM Modi is loved in Chicago, just like Swami Vivekananda, through speech."
(Yeah, typical Indian media—useless. You guys hope too much.)
But all was not lost. In a small, inconspicuous newspaper, there was an article on the front page whose headline was:
Star Fall Goes Wrong: Meteor Falls on a Guy Stargazing. Casualty: One. Name and identity are not confirmed.
(Yeah, government authorities are still useless. You guys hope too much 😮💨.)