Picturesque

A gorgeous cyan sundress adorns her wheatish skin. She wears quite plain-looking earrings, some tastefully applied eyeliner and lip gloss. She lets her shoulder length hair flow and wave in the wind. She greets him and they get the pleasantries and compliments out of the way. When his friend said that he had a perfect girl in mind for him, he jumped on the chance to take the stranger on a date. He was expecting more, but let the disappointment hide behind his iris.

"I heard that you work for a startup Anya….?"

"Yes, I am the online content manager for them." She smiles as she completes the sentence. Her eyes wander every once in a while. Maybe she is a little nervous.

"Why a startup though? I am sure you could've done that for some better pay for some better, well, bigger company, no?" He wasn't sure. He didn't know where she had graduated from, or if the startup was the only one giving her an opportunity.

The question leaves her uncomfortable, she coerces a smile. "Well, I got placed there after graduation." She waits for a moment then presents a passable defense. "I'm waiting to get some more experience under my belt as most good opportunities require some form of experience. Plus it's a good learning opportunity." Her head drops with a smile, as if she senses the expectation which she did not meet.

"That is true, most companies want you to have work experience for an entry level job. " He chuckles, to lighten the atmosphere. "I applied for so many companies and got rejected because I didn't have experience, during my placements too. How can a graduate have a minimum of one year of work experience?".

"Really?" She looks up, suspicious at the dubious statements. "Aren't you an engineer for an MNC?" She inquires.

"Yes." Her head drops low. Maybe it's the insecurity eating her already unstable confidence, maybe its the feeling that she was judged on the first few lines of this conversation or maybe just disappointment that they might not have anything in common to talk about. "But I left it for a smaller company." he lies.

Perplexed, her gaze meets his eyes properly, keeping his attention, for the first time. "Why?" 

"I wasn't happy I guess. Maybe I am tired of just following the crowd. I'm not sure myself. Just that it felt good joining a smaller company then trying to run the dog race at a major conglomerate where the dude next your cubicle doesn't even know who you are." He is an elegant liar.

She lightens up, like a dim night lamp. A whiff of a faint but genuine smile crosses her face. "That's nice. I mean as long as you are happy…" He radiates a spurious one back.

As they have lunch, talking all the while, he realizes how unimpressed he is. He was a veteran. He had dated some of the most radiant girls. She doesn't compare. He is charismatic enough to make her feel more comfortable as the lunch progresses, mostly aided by some harmless white lies and counterfeit expressions. He finds her garrulous, now that she is a bit more comfortable. But he entertains her. She slowly starts to shed her veil, and somehow, for no apparent reason, enslaves his attention. Then, he says something, an unprovoked but passable jest. She finds it more than amusing.

For the first time since this exchange started, the first time since they sat down to adjudicate each other, she breaks a genuine laugh. Somehow, this little laugh is the fall of Rome. He is under a spell. By the time they are done, he takes the initiative-"Would you like to go out next weekend?"

"I love to cook. I do it all the time for my room-mates. They just love when I conjure something magical from my pan. Especially when I make something new." She smiles, but does not stop, "They always ask me to make something, even after a work day. They would rather have whatever I cook than order out." She chuckles, pauses for a breath then continues, "I am actually planning on braising something oreintal for them tonight." Her eyes find his, transfixed on her. She blushes. 

He doesn't understand why he is captivated by her. Most girls, by now, would have a questionnaire for him. Mostly about his previous relationship, about what color he likes and all the irrelevant details."Don't you get tired after a work day?"

"I do. It can be back-breaking sometimes. Especially since we don't have that many people in the team, so all of us have to shoulder a LOT of workload." 

"Then why do you cook? Tell your roommates you are too tired to cook." he fires immediately.

She looks down, as if asking the earth to sprout an answer. Then she finds it. "I like cooking for them. I love how happy it makes them. Even if they had a bad day, it brightens them up. One of my friends failed to get a job she was aiming for. I saw her prepping for it all the time. For a year. So I made blueberry muffins for her." It seems that her mind has found more words to sing out, but she stops herself. He is astounded.

Never to be the one to run out of words. "What about you? What do you like doing?" she asks.

The question isn't seminal. It isn't rare either. "I like eating" he chuckles, she reflects a quirky smile. "I love listening to music." The neurons in his head fire, looking for some interesting lies which he will deliver as if he was reading a script, but before he could, she interrupts.

"Do you like to be alone? Like take some time for yourself?"

The meaning of the words make him flinch, like a jumpscare from a horror movie. He spends most of his time alone, or pretending, just like he has for these dates, to be a charmer. No. He doesn't like it.

"Well, doesn't everyone like some alone time sometimes?"

"Yeah." He has retained control again. 

"Do you like spending time alone?" he inquires.

"Yeah. I do. It helps me collect my thoughts." No anecdote follows. She doesn't expound on it. 

"Really?" His face almost converts into a question mark.

"Not really. I don't like to be alone a lot. I like keeping myself busy with things." She acquiesces. "I always feel that silence is powerful, almost overwhelming. I think I will enjoy it with someone, rather than alone." 

"Doesn't that beat the purpose? I mean you want to be alone. Alone means just you. No?"

"Yes. But that is the astonishing part. You can find the same comfort of that transcending space with someone. Imagine spending a night underneath a starry sky, in the arms of someone special, just watching the universe move." Her eyes transform into diodes, emitting a warm shine on an unknown frequency on the spectrum.

What is insanity? Is it aching for something that you just discovered with every fabric of your being? Is it being consumed by an idea, within seconds of it being seeded in your psyche? If so, he was on the verge of it.

"What kind of music do you listen to?" She snaps him out of his festering hallucination.

"I don't prefer any specific genre." He was somewhat prepared.

"Do you like specific kinds of food?"

"Yes. Maybe you can make me some?"

"Sure. But I might mess it up." She chuckles. "I don't want you to go back and sulk in alone with some melancholic songs because I ruined your favourite dish. I'll practice first." She radiates.

But he never said he spends his nights alone, staring at the ceiling, feeling hollow most days.

"Why do you think I'm so depressed?" 

"Not depressed but you have wistful eyes." She waits. He can't fabricate an answer. "So what do you like to eat? What food are you ready to sacrifice?"

As the night unfolds, he keeps fighting to keep his composure. As she speaks, he finds more of her, as she blossoms. She is kind. She is caring. She likes seeing people happy. Even the content she writes, as he found out after the first date, is bright and hopeful. As if she was trying to radiate all the positivity unto the world all by herself.

"Can I ask you something?" She looks, with an inquisitive expression.

"Sure." He is nervous.

"Why did you ask me out for a second date?"

"Isn't it obvious? I like you. I was….., am interested in getting to know you better."

She smiles, but it leaves him disconcerted. "Why? You think I'm lying?" 

"Honestly, yeah. I mean the first time I saw you, I knew you weren't that interested in me. You are out of my league." She laughs.

He has always been eloquent with his words. Though struggling now, he still evades the question, and steers the conversation to a place where he is comfortable. She doesn't seem to notice. But most girls never could. He could have been a master orator, but fate had its way. 

She has stories for every word in the dictionary, and now, she isn't shy to share all of them. He almost questions where she gets the energy to keep going with her anecdotes. Time, now, seems like a concept that falls apart as they stop believing. And by the time they leave, she has unearthed a bit of him from the clay shell. The ceiling now shows glimpses of her face. The songs change pitch to mimic her voice. He could live without breathing if only he could talk to her. Something is snapping, cracking in him. 

He had never been the kind to text girls on his own accord. He responds, but never initiates. He is an enigma. All these years, he has refrained from talking about himself to anyone. He doesn't say that he was stressed by work, doesn't say he is feeling lethargic and never seems to have a bad day. Everything, with him, is always "good". But when she responds to his texts, asking about his day, he capitulates. He had always observed how easy it was for some people to really undress their emotions from behind a screen. He never thought he would be a member of that species. 

Now, enthralled by her, he sits waiting for her. He is not the most punctual person in the world, but somehow, he is here early. Anticipation floods his veins. His gaze is bewitched by the entrance door.

Then, finally, as a decade passes by, she appears. A pink off shoulder top, and jeans, she has her hair free flowing again, still accompanied by her trademark eyeliner and lip gloss. She walks in, and his mind slips. She looks pretty, but feels picturesque. Like a monk in meditation, his heart finds stillness. She smiles, and the sun starts setting faster, as if ashamed by her radiance. She seduces him with her angelic voice. In a moment of revelation, his heart comes undone at the seams.

"Tanmay" He is entranced. "Have you been waiting long?"

The unravelling monk speaks, "You are beautiful."