Greentext · 2 minWrong Number Anna

>be me

>male, 21 years old

>studying at Osmania University in Warangal

>living in a damp, two-room hostel near the NTR Circle

>eat only ponga and sambar from the mess hall

>never speak to anyone except the warden and my roommate who sleeps with mouth open

>it started three months ago

>a call from 0424-xxxxxx

>strange number I did not recognize

>i picked up because silence was worse than noise

>"Hello?" said I into the receiver

>"Anna, are you still awake?" asked her voice

>soft, like rain on a tin roof, slightly distant

>"Who is this?" asked I, trying to sound calm

>"Just Anna," she replied without asking my name

>"Why are you calling me?" asked I

>"Because you didn't hang up last time," she said simply

>i laughed nervously

>"Last time? This is the first time I heard from you."

>she paused, then whispered, "Maybe I have a wrong number."

>"Sure," I said dryly

>"So what do you want?" asked I

>"Just wanted to know if anyone answers here," she murmured

>i rolled my eyes but stayed on the line

>the sound of her breathing filled the empty room

>no music, no TV, just her soft exhale

>"You live alone?" she asked suddenly

>"Yes, mostly," I admitted

>she smiled faintly over the line

>"Good. Then we can talk more."

>i felt weird but not annoyed

>maybe it was the humidity or something deeper

>we talked about nothing: the monsoon, the cricket match, the price of onions

>sometimes she called at 3 AM when the campus lights were off

>other times during exam week when everyone was stressed

>she always said, "Anna, still awake?"

>"Yeah," I'd say

>"Just wanted to check if you're okay," she added

>i never corrected her name

>i never asked why she knew I existed

>i just answered and let the silence stretch between us

>one day i was sleeping on my bunk when it rang again

>i grabbed the phone without looking

>"Anna, are you tired?" she asked softly

>"A little," I admitted

>"Then maybe we should sleep together sometime," she said

>i blinked at the ceiling

>"Together? Like in a hostel room?"

>she laughed lightly

>"Or maybe just on the phone. Whatever works."

>i didn't correct her name again

>i didn't ask who she really was or where she lived

>i just whispered, "Sure, Anna."

>and for the first time in months, I didn't feel alone