Arranged Marriage I

Chris: So you're telling me that you would, in theory, just marry some random girl that your parents happened to find?

Vikram: Its not that simple. There are several criteria which must be passed in order for my parents to deem a girl worthy of consideration. In addition to being beautiful, the girl would have to come from a good family, be educated at a top institution, have an interesting talent such as classical Indian music, dance, be ambitious but still put her family first, and willing to relocate wherever I am. She would need to match my race, caste, preferably sub-caste, and our horoscopes would have to be compatible as well.

Chris: ...that sounds more gruelling than the college application process. Do they have a swimsuit round too? (and can I come?)

Vikram: Well that's in theory. Progressive families are willing to look past horoscopes and caste on a case-by-case basis.

Chris: ... horoscopes are dumb.

Vikram: Some parents are quite open minded, and with globalization there are lot of cross-cultural marriages. Arranged marriage is an evolving, albeit slowly, system. Like any other mating system, its driven by the fundamental need to propagate genes. It has consistently adapted to stay competitive with the other systems out there in terms of finding a healthy and suitable mate with high probability of success in producing offspring.

Chris: It doesn't sound like its keeping up with the times though. What do gay Indian people do? Does the system allow for that?

Vikram: Not yet. But you have to put the system today in perspective. There was a time when infants would be committed to each other by their parents purely for socio-political purposes. The age of the child at which this happened gradually increased. Eventually the children started getting some input about the suitability of the mate. This level of arranged marriage still exists, although less prevalent now. The parents of the potential bride and groom will meet and discuss their family history, background, compatibility etc. The bride and groom get to see each other in the presence of their families. Each then gives their impressions to their family, and the heads of the two households (generally the fathers) will conclude the negotiations based on these events and input from the members of their family. The first Prime Minister of India famously said "We don't marry the people we love. We love the people we marry", to the British woman he was having an affair with.

Today, in the most families, arranged marriage is much more open. The parents still conduct the initial search and screening of candidates, but the girl and guy can meet alone a few times before deciding. In our still sexist society, guys get veto rights more often than girls do, but the prevalence of veto rights is quite high by this point. In the very progressive families, the girl and guy can also date casually for a while before making any formal commitments. Many people consider the engagement as the start of a dating period which lasts for anywhere between a week to a year - in which the couple can decide to back out if it doesn't work.

Chris: I still have trouble stomaching the idea that my parents would choose who I date. Individuality and freedom is the foundation of American society. For better or worse, its also the foundation of teenage rebellion against their parents especially surrounding issues of romance.

Vikram: But internet dating is socially accepted these days right? It has many striking resemblances to arranged marriage. Imagine if your parents were helping you choose who to hit on based on their internet profile on the online dating or social networking website of your choosing. You have to look at the candidate's picture. You might try to look for girls who are from your home town, who like the same TV as you do, and so on. Maybe you look at who they hang out with to figure out if they're "cool". This is the same idea behind arranged marriage, except you're using the social network of parents instead of the social network on facebook. Granted, information can get biased in the game of telephone and you might have one too many nosy neighbors all up in your business, but for a system invented centuries before computers, it works alright. Doesn't it make sense to trust your parents more than facebook when it comes to your privacy and best-interests?

Chris: Hah. Well *I* don't believe in internet dating or even looking for girls on the internet, that's just creepy. But I guess what your'e saying is that arranged marriage today is basically a dating service run by your parents. What about the time constraints and the added social pressures? You might end up dating the family instead of the person.

Vikram: Admittedly that does happen to some extent. While modern parents may try their best to stay out of the way and let the relationship be limited to the couple, the fact that the parents are searching and filtering unavoidably puts a little extra pressure on the situation. I might think "if I get rejected by girl #3, my parents are going to be so disappointed in me" or "if i reject girl #3, my parents are going to get tired of this search soon". The bright side of the added social pressure is that there is much more accountability in the relationship. It is much less likely for a guy to be ungentlemanly toward the girl, or for either to "play with feelings" so to speak.

Chris: I think its probably more efficient to have help in pre-screening the global pool of potential mates as in arranged marriage and online dating services, but what about love? You miss the chance to fall in love during your trip to Paris, or meet that special someone walking down the street on a Sunday afternoon. Or..that girl you hooked up with that one night.

Vikram: In India we actually call that sort of marriage a "love marriage", and while less common it is being accepted more and more. Sometimes there is a hybrid of the two types of marriage where the guy and the girl will fall in love but their families have to approve of the marriage in order for it to happen. And of course you have some couples that elope when their families don't agree etc - makes life interesting. And lets be honest, is a marriage more likely to last if the foundation is a passing infatuation in a coffee shop or some "shawty in da club", or does it show more promise if based on research that shows compatible backgrounds and similar life experiences? Its (almost) Science!

Ambiguous Leaves

1:"So how is life these days?"
2:"I hate it when people ask me that. It's like talking about the weather."
"I didn't mean it in the I-am-incapable-of-intelligent-conversation way. I actually want to know. I care."
"I'll let this one slide. Life is pretty drama free; its a nice change."
"Good to hear."
"...So?"
"So what?"
"Your turn."
"Oh. My life is not quite as drama free, but I'd say that I'm pretty relaxed about it anyway."
"Recently I have started laughing whenever there is any ridiculous drama because it is better to be amused about it than to fret about it."
"Hah."
"Where are you going?"
"I'll bee arr bee"
"Screw you and your internetspeak. Make it snappy."
"Don't miss me too much."
"Very funny."

---

2:"Oh you're back already."
1:"I have discovered a new phrase during my travels!"
"And what would be this enlightenment that you achieved during your epic 5 minute journey?"
"Beautiful. Wait for it. Ambiguity."
"I don't get it."
"You know how when a guy and a girl first become acquainted, many times one is interested in the other but unsure about whether the feelings are mutual."
"Uh huh."
"Lets say the interested party is testing the waters to get a handle on where the other person is at. Some people equate testing the waters with an Olympic dive. Some people never say anything at all and just try to look for small body language cues.
"My patience for the obvious is running out."
"And then there's the people who will make ambiguous statements, where it *could* be interpreted as flirting, but if it doesn't work out then it is just as easy for the interested party to claim that it was nothing. On the rare occasions when ambiguity is used well by the interested party, it may have poetic subtlety and mathematical precision; that is when it is truly beautiful."
"I see what you're saying. But what happens when both parties are interested and they're both being ambiguous? Does that cause some kind of never ending ambiguity?"
"It probably does sometimes. It depends on whether both parties read each others' ambiguity for what it is."

---

2:"Before we got sidetracked by your ambiguity, where did you go just now?"
1:"I wanted to get you flowers, but I couldn't find any. So I got you some leaves instead..."
"They still smell pretty."
"I'm glad you like them."
"I should get going. I don't want to be late."
"I suppose so."
"Don't miss me too much."
"Very funny."

Afternoon Tea Part II

“Cellphones are worse than clingy boyfriends” thought Kavita, as her cellphone kept buzzing in her pocket, trying to distract her from giving the Creed-couple, as she mentally labeled them, their check. The Creed-couple reminded her of the nerdy-but-cute guy, who had been her only respite from the Creed-couple’s painful conversations. She pulled out the whining piece of technology from her pocket, and her mind went blank for a moment. It was a message from him.

Harmeet was exhausted. He thought about the sleep deprivation studies which equated the effects of sleep deprivation to being drunk. Perhaps it was this lowered level of inhibition that had caused his feet to take him right to the door of Tea Stop. He didn’t even realize why he was there; he sat down and ordered Darjeeling Chai Tea from an unfamiliar waitress.

Kavita saw the other waitress serving nerdy-but-cute guy his regular order. She thought about their last conversation and smiled. She had called him a hipster-in-denial. She still didn’t know his name though. She hoped that she wouldn’t accidentally address him as nerdy-but-cute guy. She suddenly realized that she was a little miffed that the other waitress was serving him.

Harmeet suddenly remembered why he had come here in his sleep-deprived stupor, when he saw the familiar flourish of brown hair approaching him. “Are you cheating on me?” his regular waitress asked. “Keep it down you always make a scene when we go out” he grinned, returning her sass. “It’s ok, I’m not the jealous type” she flashed a playful smile as she continued to the next table to take an order.

Kavita was accustomed to being the playful waitress…it got her good tips, and made her life a bit more interesting. But she had surprised herself with this exchange. A few minutes later she was cleaning the table next to nerdy-but-cute guy, and found herself in an argument with him about Journey. “Separate Ways was the worst thing that happened to the 80’s.” She scoffed. “You can’t just stop believing in Journey because of *one* song.” He was quick to reply. “Hmph. Convince me.” “Well, what do you say I convince you somewhere else, when you’re off shift?”

“Are you asking me out?” the waitress stopped and looked straight at Harmeet. “Well you’re obviously off your game when you’re working, I don’t want you to claim handicap later. And yes.” Harmeet took a deep breath as her face went through a series of very puzzled
expressions.

Kavita thought about the cute guy in front of her. She then thought of the list of promises that she knew were empty that were on the cellphone in her pocket. No, he had gotten his chance. It was time for her to move on. “I don’t even know your name.” she said. “To be fair, I don’t know yours either.” he smirked. “Kavita.” “Is that a yes? I’m Harmeet.” “Well the only way I can stand an argument about Journey is if you buy me a drink.”

The West Village

Disha walked up the steps and into the cloudy New York evening. She was half surprised and half pleased that he'd called her randomly to say that he was in New York and wanted to catch up. The rest of her friends who had since moved out of the city hadn't bothered to keep in touch at all. After spending the summer being interns together, this would be the first time they would meet. She didn't know that it would also be the last.

After a few minutes of being vaguely lost, she caught sight of him waving from the corner of the next intersection. She smiled, waved back, and hurried over to give him a hug.

"I know I said just coffee, but its getting late and I'm betting you haven't had dinner."

"Sounds lovely, I was hoping there would be some food involved. Did you have to wait long?"

"Nah I was just sitting in that restaurant down there. They're going to have a live band coming on soon, would you like to go there and get something to eat?"

"Sure."

Disha followed him into the crowded but cosy candlelit place. The band had just started up with some soft jazz.

"So how has life been?" she quietly cursed at herself for not thinking of anything less cliche to say.

"Its been good...work as usual, you know how it is, old friends asking me generic questions in the one hour that I get to meet them..." They both laughed.

Disha smiled, in that instant they went back to being the interns who goofed around the office. It was as though they picked up their playful banter right from where they left it when they went their separate ways at the end of the summer. Disha thought back to the lunch that they had on the last day of work...

"So any sweethearts back home?" he had asked

"No, I left all the sweethearts behind when I left the country. Long distance is no good."

"So here then?"

"Its hard when the American boys just want to mess around, and the Indian boys are like children when it comes to relationships. Seriously, how difficult is it to find a desi who has an ounce of relationship experience and doesn't sound like he works for Technical support?"

"Oh, I wouldn't think its *that* hard. But you just can't seem to keep the desperate dance-floor-grinding types off you huh"

"Yeah, after all, how often do you find a hot Indian girl with an American perspective making her own living in NY?"

"Just as often as you find a nice Indian guy who isn't a relationship novice?"

"Touche."

"What are we doing in the west anyway?"

Disha didn't comprehend the flow of conversation. She found herself pulled back to the candlelit restaurant, he was actually asking her a serious question.

"I don't know, we probably just went with the flow during all of the decisions that actually mattered. And then we probably justified it with something silly like 'take every day as it comes and it will work out' "

Much conversation and a couple of drinks later, it was time to leave. Disha asked the waiter to take a picture of them on her digital camera right before they left the restaurant. He insisted on paying, which wasn't normal, but Disha didn't want to offend him.

He offered to walk her to the subway stop. As Disha turned to say her last goodbye before walking down into the station, she was surprised to see an entirely novel expression on his face. Within a split second she realized what it was and she gulped. Not again. She hated this part.

"Listen, Disha, there is something that I need to say. I know I don't live in New York and that you don't like long distance and that its probably not going to work, but I have to say it anyway. I've had a crush on you ever since the summer, but never got a good chance to ask you out properly. I was hoping I could do that now."

"You're right."

"I am?"

"Yeah, its not going to work. Sorry if I gave you the wrong impression."

"No, its just wishful thinking on my part. I just had to get it off my chest. If you ever get tired enough of your Tech support suitors you can give me a call."

Even in this awkward situation, Disha managed a smile. "Sure thing."

Earbuds (Guest Author)

She sits outside on the steps alone in the warm night air. A lonely moth flutters around the porch light above her and the sounds of crickets echo in the dark of the small front yard. She stares blankly at the black river of street that extends out from the grass. She hears the screen door open with a creak behind her followed by an familiar voice.

"You look lonely out here."

He lets the screen door bang shut behind him, then walks over and sits down beside her.

"Want to listen to some music while you wait?"

He fishes through the contents of his pockets until he finds the desired object. He offers her one earbud from the set plugged into the MP3 player.

"Yeah, thanks."

She takes the tiny speaker and easily fits it into her ear, then goes back to observing the sky. He watches her intently enjoying of the subtle grace in her movement, but then turns his head to look at the road. They sit for a few moments. She looks over at him and smiles. He smiles back.

"What are you thinking?"

You're so cute when you smile. "Nothing really. What a summer. I can't believe it's over already."

"Yeah, pretty ridiculous."

They go back to staring at the road. The night is full of sound, but neither can seem to break the silence between them. The song changes.

"What do you think you'll miss most?"

You. "I dunno. The simplicity of it all I guess."

"Right. That part was pretty great."

The taxi pulls up in front of the building. She hands back the earbud and stands slowly, swinging her one small duffel over her shoulder and straightening her shirt. He stands up beside her and shoves the player along with his hands clumsily into his pockets.

"Well, I guess, I've got to go." She attempts another smile.

"Yeah, well, goodbye." He shifts awkwardly and half smiles back.

"Goodbye." She turns and walks to the taxi. I love you.

Strawberries with Cream Part VI

Social engineering was just a theoretical term for Anjor until recently. With 3 days left for him to leave the country, he had gained practical experience. He had managed to engineer a gathering of the social circle that he shared with Preeti. It had taken many phone calls, a lot of convincing and shifting schedules. He had been more successful than he hoped – although it sounded more like an old ladies' gathering, the plan was to have a potluck at Preeti’s place. He had insisted on bringing the dessert.

Anjor picks up the phone and dials the number on the business card that reads “Samit Mishra”.

“Samit Mishra here.”

“Hi, this is Anjor, I was the person who visited the other day asking about your famous strawberry dessert.”

“Yes I remember please go ahead. How was the sample?”

“It was great actually, and I would like to place a larger order for tomorrow if that is possible”

“How large? I’ll see what I can do.”

“I would like to pick up a strawberry shortcake tomorrow afternoon around 3 for an important party”

“You mean the special shortcake with a strawberries and cream layered filling? I can probably arrange that. Hold on.”

A couple of minutes later –

“It will be ready by noon. You can pick it up at your leisure in the afternoon.”

“Great, thanks a lot Samit .”

“My pleasure sir. Do send me your comments”

After explaining to his inquisitive parents that he was just talking to a new friend that he made recently about meeting tomorrow, Anjor buries himself in his laptop and types away furiously. There is another task that has to be completed.

The next day Anjor flies to Le’ Meridien at 3 and picks up the perfectly layered delicious looking cake. Almost everything is in place. He stops at a private printing facility.

“Kya chahiye” (What do you want)

“File print karni hai” (Need to print a file)

“Kaunsi” (Which one)

Anjor hands the printing tech a usb key.



It’s almost 4:30 as Anjor pulls into Preeti’s lane and squeezes his car in between the two that he recognizes as belonging to his friends. He is glad not to be the first one there.

He rings the doorbell with a covered package in one hand, and a backpack over his shoulder. He holds his breath at the click of the latch and the door opens. The radiant smile that greets him causes him to almost drop the dessert on which his plan hinges. But even then, he feels as though it might be worth dropping the package in order to gaze at that smile.

“Aren’t you going to come in, everyone is already here”

“Oh of … of course.”

“Let me take that for you.”

“Nn no…I’ll put it in the refrigerator myself, it is fragile and not to be opened till it’s time for dessert.”

“You are so stubborn!”

“Don’t come between a man and his dessert.”

They both laugh, but Anjor breathes a sigh of relief as he carefully places the package in the already overfull fridge.

A couple of hours, a couple of drinks, and a couple of laughs later, it’s time for dessert.

“Anjor won’t let anyone touch his dessert-baby.” teases Preeti

“Anjor, aan na” (just bring it) someone pipes up.

Anjor jumps up and brings out the now uncovered precious dessert. He is treading so carefully and purposefully that he swears for days to come that he was walking in slow motion. As he sets it on the table, it is very hard for him not to look proud – especially as he sees Preeti’s eyes light up. While everyone else chatters about what it is and how great it looks, Anjor manages to catch Preeti’s eye and they share a brief moment where both of them know exactly what is happening.

After devouring every last scrap, its finally time to leave. People start ambling out. Anjor purposefully hangs behind the crowd.

“Hh.hey Ppreeti…”

“Hey Anjor, thanks for coming, and thanks for an amazing dessert! That is by far the best dessert I’ve ever had.”

“Oh it was nothing. I have a confession to make though.”

“Oh Anjor, if this is about what we talked about the oth…”



“Hear me out. There is something I need your help with.”

“Th..his looks like you’ve written a …story.”

“It is. It’s almost finished.”

Anjor stands patiently as she flips through the pages. As she realizes what the story is, she hurriedly flips to the last page where she reads

And then he gave her the note.

“Wait a minute…you didn’t give me a no..oh.”

Preeti unfolds the note. It reads

“Dear Preeti,

Meeting you has been the highlight of my visits to Pune in recent years. I know you are in a tough situation so I’m letting you off easy. But next time I visit Pune, I will bring you strawberries with cream every day if that is what it takes. In the meantime, I can only leave this note as my promise.

-Anjor”

Preeti looks up from the note, and takes a deep breath.

“So what did you need my help with?”

“I don’t know how the story ends.”

Strawberries with Cream Part V

It is getting more and more difficult for Anjor to run around looking for strawberries and flowers without attracting attention from his friends and family. But he has to play this one close to the chest. Between meeting people and running errands around the city, he has to work hard to find fragments of time in which to pursue his girl. The efforts he is going through are downright scandalous in this town. Privacy is a luxury hard to come by.

Anjor pulls into Le’ Meridien, the most upscale hotel in the fast developing city. It’s been in the news recently since Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt stayed there with their adopted kids and nannies. Anjor is a nobody compared to the folk that generally set foot inside, he is a little nervous about pulling this off. He is dressed in his finest jeans and button down. He takes a deep breath, and walks through security as if he owns the place. He hopes that by ignoring all the doormen and busboys he’ll avoid interrogation.

“Sir excuse me sir may I help you?”

Anjor puts on his most arrogant voice.

“Actually yes. I wish to speak with Samit Mishra.”

“Excuse me?”

“Samit Mishra. He does work here right?”

“…y..yes sir, straight and to the left.”

“Thanks.”

As the word leaves his mouth, Anjor is already walking toward the renowned restaurant. His aggressive tone had done the trick. The restaurant is completely empty. Its slightly before opening time, just as he had hoped.

“Yes sir, how may I help you?”

“Is this where famous chef Samit Mishra works?”

“Yes sir, how may I help you?”

“I would like to speak with him, please.”

“Sir, I don’t know if that is possible….”

“I would be grateful if you can go and check.”

“Y..yes sir.”

A few minutes later, the reception comes back out of the kitchen, and makes a couple of phone calls. Another few minutes later, Samit Mishra walks into the restaurant lobby.

“Hello, I hear you were looking for me.”

“Hi, my name is Anjor, and I am here to sample one of the desserts that you make. I’ve heard a lot about it.”

They shake hands.

“What would that dessert be?”

“I’ve been told that Samit Mishra makes the best strawberry desserts in the city. I was hoping that you could humor me and whip up something with strawberries, cream, and shortcake.”

“Well, let me check if we have those ingredients, have a seat please.”

“I appreciate it.”

Samit Mishra discovers that there is no shortcake. He makes a few calls and ascertains that a shortcake could be delivered to the hotel within 24 hours if desired. He offers

“Sir, we don’t have a full shortcake, but I do have some shortcake crumbs which I keep around. Can I use those for your sample and then if you are satisfied we can put in a large order?”

“I don’t know, if that’s the case then I’ll have to check with my people. Why don’t you make it to go, and I’ll see what they think and get back to you.”

“Sure sir, I would appreciate any culinary feedback you have for me. Here’s my card. I’ll have your dessert ready in 10 minutes.”

Anjor leaves his contact information at the reception and ten minutes later he strolls out with a fresh made, delicately packaged serving of strawberries and cream with shortcake from the best chef in town. But he didn’t know that this had been the easy part of his struggle.

Anjor still has one more thing to do before he takes the leap. He stops at a gift store to get some acceptable paper and ink. He takes a deep breath and writes –

“Dear Preeti,”

He pauses. He isn’t sure what else he can say. He doesn’t want to appear desperate, but he doesn’t want to be lackluster in his message, either. He hastily writes the rest of the message before he can change his mind. He folds the paper and puts it on the packaged dessert. He is almost done.

A block away from her house, he stops the car and calls her.

“Hi.”

“Hi! What’s up”

“I was wondering if you were at home and had a couple of minutes to spare.”

“…actually I’m in Goa.”

“Oh…when will you be back?”

“Not till Sunday.”

“I guess I’ll see you then. Have a good time in Goa!”

“Ok, bye Anjor!”

Anjor punches the steering wheel so hard that it hurts and for a moment he’s afraid that the airbag’s will pop. He throws the precious package in a dumpster on his way home.

Afternoon Tea I

Kavita was tired of serving tea. She did enjoy working at the teashop, but she felt like she had been stuck there ever since he happened. She needed to find a way to move on with her life. In other words, it was a regular slow afternoon for her. That’s when the little bell above the door jingled.

Harmeet had recently moved to the city in hope of bigger and better things. He was tired of doing software in a cubicle all the time, so he was walking around a few blocks from his apartment in search of a new and interesting place to write some code. In other words, it was a regular slow afternoon for him. That’s when he discovered the quaint teashop.

Kavita was too busy prepping the next teapot to look over at the new customer that stepped in. When she stepped out from behind the counter she noticed him. He appeared to be looking around on the floor for something. After serving the tea that she was carrying, she walked over to the new customer while brushing her hair back. When he saw her approaching, he got up with a start, almost knocking over the laptop that was on the table. She ventured, “Welcome to Tea Stop, here’s a menu.”

Harmeet fished out his Mac from his messenger bag and opened it. Ugh. Low battery. He started looking around for a power outlet on the bottom of the wall next to his table. A pair of shapely legs coming toward him distracted him and he looked up to see a flourish of long brown hair. It was the waitress. He hastily stood up and offered a weak smile. She said something which he didn’t understand because he was still recovering from the hair. She left a menu on the table, but Harmeet didn’t notice it since he was too busy watching her walk back to the counter.

Kavita went back to the new guy’s table after a few minutes. From the clean cut look, the slightly awkward smile and the Macbook, he had ‘nerd’ written all over him. But she realized that he was still kind of cute. “Are you ready to order?” she asked. “I’ll have the Darjeeling Chai Tea”. “Will that be all?” “Yup thanks!” Kavita started back to the counter. “Wait!” he said. “Yes?” Kavita turned around. “Is there a power outlet somewhere?”

With the waitress’ help, Harmeet finally plugged in his computer and opened up a programming interface. He fished out his design notes in a separate window. For the next 10 minutes, Harmeet couldn’t write a single line of code because he kept looking up hoping to see the waitress. A couple of tables over, a couple was arguing about whether Creed was a good band or not. ‘Seriously, With Arms Wide Open is a deep and meaningful song!’ one of them was pressing loudly. At that moment, Harmeet caught the waitress’ eye. They both looked at the couple and then back at each other, simultaneously stifling their laughter.

The slow afternoon was slowly turning into the evening – more and more customers walked into Tea Stop, and Kavita got busier and busier, the place became noisier and noisier. She glanced over at the laptop-guy and realized that he was waiting for the check. She hurriedly wrote it up and went over to his table, when she noticed his “The Killers” t-shirt. “I love The Killers!”. “Really? Because Somebody Told Me is a deep and meaningful song!” he replied. Kavita laughed. “Do visit again!” she said as he started walking to the door.

Strawberries with Cream Part IV

Kaay deu bola sahib (what would you like)

Ek rose pahije (I want a rose)

Hee ghya (here)

Kiti jhale (how much)

5 rupees

Anjor gets in the car and quickly shoves the rose in the glove compartment. He doesn’t want anyone to see it before the planned time. He’s glad that he has a car now. Two trips to India ago he had to do all these shenanigans on his crappy scooter. He laughs at the thought of trying to transport something as delicate as a flower on his scooter, and then laughs even more at the thought of having transported strawberries and cream.

Anjor walks into the café and takes a seat in the group of his old classmates. His mind is restless. The moment he recognizes her in his peripheral vision, Anjor makes an effort to look nonchalant and to appear deeply engaged in conversation with the person across the table. Naturally, he comes across as a complete idiot. She floats over to the table, grabs a chair, and sits down.

“Hi.”

…

“Anjor, I said hi.”

“Oh…uh hi, I didn’t know you were talking to me”

Anjor spins around. Within a fraction of a second of meeting her gaze he immediately looks down. He is afraid that if he is exposed to her smile for more than that in public he will say or do something embarrassing. Besides, no one at the table knows that they had coffee together.

The next couple of hours pass in a haze. The group moves to a different café because it’s too loud, everyone is happy to see their classmates after a long time. Anjor behaves out of character. He pokes a little too much fun at one of his friends, he laughs a little too much at his own jokes, he talks a little too loudly, claps the person next to him on the back a little too hard. Days later he realizes that he did something obnoxious every time he thought she was looking at him. He is not too concerned about this meeting – his thoughts are too occupied with what is to be done afterwards.

As the evening saunters to an end, Anjor finds himself walking back to his car. Everyone notices him leave just a little hurriedly, but that’s ok. He knows that she is walking to her car in the same direction – he needs a head start. He has taken care to park his car just a little way ahead of hers.

“Hi”

“Hey what’s up?” she says, rolling down the window of her car.

“I…I just…I just wanted to give you this.”

“What is..oh. Thank you!”

“And I also wanted to ask you out to coffee…again…in person...”

“Yeah sure, give me a call.”

“Ok, I will. Bye!”

“…You’re still standing next to my car”

“It’s not my fault! I tend to do stupid things every time you smile at me.”

“You’re silly.” She laughs.

She drives away. Anjor forces himself to stop thinking about her so that he can drive safely.


“Will I have the good fortune of seeing you today?” begins the text message conversation.

“Hey, I don’t know I might have to go out with some friends tonight.”

“That’s too bad. Since I’m only in town for another 7 days I would like to spend some time with you.”

“Listen, I just want to make some stuff clear. I just got dumped by a guy and am pretty hung up…I don’t think I’m ready for anything else right now.”

They switch to Gchat. Anjor starts.

“Look, I don’t expect you to drop everything and jump into something serious with me. I’ve barely asked you out to coffee. It would still be nice to meet and talk, and see how it goes from there.”

“What’s with all this weird stuff suddenly anyway? I mean I like talking to you…but I’m not over that guy.”

“I see.”

“And he obviously doesn’t care. He’s a different person now. And I’m sure you don’t want to listen to my stupid story.”

“Of course I want to know.”

“Let’s not talk about that now. Anyway, I really hope this doesn’t make things weird between us.”

“Nothing is weird. It’s actually very simple. I like you. I want to get to know you better. You are coming out of a bad breakup, and don’t want to form any new attachments just yet.”

“It’s not that simple. When did all this happen? It’s very weird…you’re not even in Pune.”

“That is true. I’m not in Pune for most of the year. That will take some explaining.”

“Explaining which can be done now.”

“As you wish. I was never able to do anything about the crush I had since I never got the chance to interact with you a lot, and I wasn’t sure about what to do since I don’t live here. During some of my visits, you weren’t single, and during some of my visits, I wasn’t single. The moment you walked into that café I realized that my life was never going to magically present me with an opportunity to explore this possibility unless I did something about it. Better late than never right?”

“That’s…unexpected. You’re a really nice guy.”

“But you just want to be friends etc etc right?” Anjor has had the nice-guy conversation before.

“It’s just that I’m in a very different mindset right now. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get over him.”

“Does that mean you’ll never date anyone else?”

“At this point even thinking about being with someone else feels horrible. I’m hoping that time will change stuff.”

“Me too. The best way to get over one person is to find another.”

“No it’s not actually. That’s a rebound and it’s the stupidest thing to do. Anyway thanks for understanding. I have to go.”

“Well, if time ever changes your mind, let me know.”

Anjor closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He cannot just give up.

Strawberries with Cream Part III

Anjor’s hands do not normally sweat. Especially while texting. Yet the cellular phone almost slips out of his hands not once but twice. After feverishly thrashing his fingers on the keypad, going through several revisions of the message he is typing, the screen reads

“I was bored today, and started wondering how many guys would try to beat me up if I took you out for coffee. So I decided that there was only one way to find out.”

Waiting for replies to text messages should be employed as a torture method under the patriot act, Anjor thinks. He closes his eyes. It has never been this excruciating. He thinks about technology, as he sometimes does when he is trying to get his mind off something. Today’s technology has enabled him to transcribe his emotions into a well quantified electronic representation, which is then converted into a frequency modulated radio wave, flies and bounces and travels through the concrete jungle, perhaps stopping at a few towers on its way, finally makes it to her cellphone unharmed, and evokes emotions in her as she reads it. Then she will transcribe those emotions and they will reach him the same way. Hopefully.

The vibrating phone in his pocket shatters his thought bubble and he nervously reaches for it. He flips it open.

“One new message. Press OK to open.”
He blinks while pressing OK.
“Nah I don’t think anyone would try. But sure, coffee sounds cool. Barista at 6:45?”
This time his fingers are dry and it takes him mere seconds to type the next message.
“I’ll be there.”


Why isn’t she here yet, Anjor worries, its already 7 o clock. He flips open his phone to check the time in the message that she sent. It was still 6:45. Did he go to the wrong place? What if she had come to her senses and realized that she had only agreed to go out with him in a moment of madness?

Anjor periodically pretends to be very interested in his phone so that it doesn’t look like he’s being stood up. He keeps getting glances from the barista since he hasn’t ordered anything. He reads the menu cover to cover no less than four times. Hope is dwindling.

“And I thought waiting for text messages for excruciating.” He smiles dryly to himself.

Anjor debates about whet her to call her or text her or do nothing. He really doesn’t want to appear desperate. He decides to do nothing, and tries to calm his nerves. Finally his phone starts vibrating and he answers it in seconds.

“Where are you in Barista?”
“Oh right next to the counter on the entrance-side.”
“Ok I’ll be right there.”

He quickly stops looking at the door and stares straight at the barren wall to his right as she walks up to the glass door. He’s trying really hard not to look eager.
Her feet follow each other flawlessly on the polished surface of the coffee joint. Everything that he had rehearsed in his mind vanishes the moment she smiles and waves at him.
He is completely oblivious to her saying “Sorry I’m late”, because the relief is still washing over him.

“So how was your day?” he blurts without even waiting for her to sit down, and quietly curses at himself.
“It was fine…”
Say interesting things Anjor tells himself, but he looks like a deer dazzled by the headlights of her smile.
“So…uh why don’t we get some coffee?” Anjor smiles weakly as he tries to regain composure.
“That sounds good.”

They walk over together to the counter and order two Cappuccinos. She insists on paying for both of them. He is no stranger to going Dutch, but it is not often that a girl buys him coffee.

Anjor proceeds to conduct himself in a completely disastrous manner. In the next 15 minutes, he spills his coffee, hits his head, and narrowly avoids knocking over the table. She gets a call from a friend asking her to go somewhere, and this is her cue to leave. Anjor walks her to her scooter, and just before it’s too late he manages to blurt out

“I…had a nice time, I’d like to see you again”
“Ok. I’ll see you around sometime.”
“Cool, bye!”
“See you.”
He turns around and starts walking to his car, having no idea what she thinks of him.

The River

"So why do we always go to the river at odd hours in the night?"
"Because."
"...what?"
"Because its the river, and the river is awesome."
"Heh. ok"
"Walking by the river makes me forget about everything else for a while, you know, I can just kick back and not think about anything."
"That makes sense."
"The city skyline is pretty at night"
"Yeah, especially with the full moon"
so are you
"What do you want to do?"
be with you
"What do you mean?"
"You know, like, after all of this is over"
I wish it never is
"like college?"
"yeah"
"I have no clue. Maybe I'll be a bum in Central Square"
"(laughs) oh come on, you're going to get a high paying job and buy an island or something"
"I guess that would be nice" but not as nice without you "What do you want to do?"
"Probably go to grad school"
"Why?"
"I never want to stop learning"
"But you learn in the real world, too."
"Thats true, but not like you can learn here. There's so much to learn, I feel as though I have to make the most of every single moment that I have here"
me too.
"I like how we can just come out here and talk about anything"
"Me too. (glances at watch) oh wow its 4:30 already"
"Eh, thats not so bad."
"Do you want to head back?"
"Not really"
"Ok."

"What are you doing?"
"nothing...."
"Put that camera away!"
"no I want a picture of you!"
"why?"
"Because."
"...what?"
"Because its you, and you're awesome"
"Heh, ok"

"Its 5. we should really head back"
"I suppose"
"Yeah he's probably wondering where I am"
"Oh right, he probably is"