May 2015, Bus Stop, Newtown, Kolkata
‘I love you, Pranali. Do you want to be my girlfriend?’
‘What in the world are you? How can you propose to a lady you don’t even know?’
‘Oh, so that is the issue? Then there won’t be an issue. I’m Akash, and I’ve been in love with you for the past two months.’
‘What ?’
‘Yes. I’m not sure when or how it happened, but it did, and I can’t exist without you any longer. Please accept me.’
‘Please leave. If not, I’ll shatter your teeth and strap them to your feet.’
‘You uncivilized lady,’ he said.
‘How shameless you are? Leave now, or I’ll report to the police,’ I said.
‘I’ll leave now, okay? Answer me as soon as you have opportunity. That’s all, my love.’
‘Do not follow me once more, bastard Akash. I threatened to report you to the authorities if you didn’t comply,’ I said in mind.
On the bus stop where I was waiting for a bus, the entire episode took place. Nimrit left to the office early because she had some additional work to do.
After I joined my workplace, he started to follow me. He added me as a friend on Instagram as well, but I disregarded it.
Actually, he was a chhapri loafer. Why does God create others like him? Completely pointless and a waste of space.
Why do males believe that adding hair accessories like shakalaka boom boom pencils, colouring hair, undoing the top two shirt buttons, riding a KTM, and creating reels can make an impression on a girl? Damn.
I arrived at work. I was in a completely bad mood. I was furious. I sat down and slammed my skull against the desk.
It was my friend and co-worker Shivam Agarwal who said,
‘Good morning, Pranali.’
BEFORE 2 MONTHS,
On my first day at the workplace, I was full of happiness. It marked the beginning of my journey towards independence. I dressed in a white formal shirt under a sharp black blazer and matching pants, ready to take on this new chapter. However, Nimrit’s sudden illness had led to her absence, leaving me with a bit of uncertainty.
She had instructed me to meet Mr. Khanna, who would be my guide on this exciting day.
As I stood at the bus stop, waiting for my ride, my mood took a slight dip when I spotted someone I’d rather not think too highly of - Akash. I had a moment of self-correction, realizing that comparing him to a swine was perhaps unfair to pigs. My apologies to the animals; I should choose my words more carefully. Akash, with his KTM motorcycle, appeared on the scene, and his eyes
seemed glued to me. However, I decided to pay him no mind and brushed off his intrusive gaze.
Finally, I arrived at my workplace and entered the lobby. It was abuzz with numerous individuals, each engrossed in their tasks. Nimrit had instructed me to meet Mr. Khanna, but I found myself at a loss when it came to locating his office.
Amidst the crowd, I noticed a man in a sky-blue shirt and black pants, sporting a well-groomed haircut and eyeglasses perched on his nose, well, on his eyes. I made the decision to approach him and seek his assistance.
I said, ‘Excuse me,’ to him. He swivelled to face me.
‘Would you kindly direct me to Mr. Khanna’s cabin? Actually, today is my first day,’ I said with a grin.
He responded, ‘Actually, it’s my first day as well, and I’m looking for Mr. Khanna’s cabin.’
‘Oh, I see,’
I extended my hand and said, ‘By the way, my name is Pranali Sharma.’ He did not reply. He began contemplating something while looking at my raised palm.
‘Hello, I’m Shivam Agarwal. Pleasure to meet you.’ We extended palms. His hands began to tremble. This is the issue with people from small towns.
‘Me too,’ I echoed, grinning slightly.
PRESENT DAY,
‘Good morning, I said,’ Shivam repeated.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t hear.’ I responded, ‘Good morning.’
‘What went on? Is something wrong?’ he enquired once more.
‘No.. nothing,’ I said, lowering my head.
Shivam hailed from a small village in Karnataka. He was your typical boy-next-door, known for his honesty and simplicity.
32 In the Arms of a Soldier Shyness was an integral part of his personality. Whenever he tried to strike up a conversation with a girl, his cheeks would flush with embarrassment. I’ve rarely encountered anyone as genuine as Shivam.
One of his remarkable traits was his diligence. He consistently completed his tasks well ahead of schedule, showcasing his dedication and commitment. Despite his grown-up exterior, Shivam had a childlike innocence about him, and he had a soft spot for his mother, whom he missed dearly.
What truly stood out about Shivam was his unwavering devotion to Lord Shiva. Before embarking on any endeavour, he would offer his prayers to the deity, seeking blessings and guidance. It was this spiritual connection that added depth to his character, reflecting his faith and values.
‘Good Morning guys’, he was Pratik Verma.
BEFORE 2 MONTHS
Shivam and I looked for someone who could assist us. But speaking to strangers who are dressed in casual attire can be extremely uncomfortable. Shivam exhibited complete introversion in it. I had to move forward as a result.
‘Is this your first day?’ asked a person coming we from behind us. We turned to gaze at the person.
He introduced himself as ‘Pratik Verma.’
‘Ha.. he. Hello, I’m Pranali Sharma’ and ‘I’m Shivam Agarwal.’
‘Is it your first day?’ he inquired once more. He continued,
‘Because I’ve never seen you here before.’
‘It is our first day, yes. Actually, we are searching for Mr.
Khanna’s quarters. So, would you kindly assist us?’ I asked.
‘You’d better follow me,’
‘Thank you, God,’ I thought.
We began to pursue him. With his trademark pervy smile he said, ‘By the way, your voice is so sweet.’ I found it a little uncomfortable. ‘Like you,’ he continued.
‘Oh, thank you,’ I exclaimed with a grin.
Shivam, a recluse, was on my side, and Pratik, a pervert, was on the other.
PRESENT DAY,
Shivam greeted Pratik by saying, ‘Good morning.’
Pratik said, ‘My good morning wish was also for you.’
‘Yes, good morning,’ I mumbled while feigning a grin. Once more, my cranium hit the table. Both Shivam and Pratik were confused.
Pratik, in our company, was quite the character – a slightly mischievous, fun-loving person. His main focus always seemed to be on having a good time and looking stylish. However, his Achilles’ heel was undoubtedly girls. He had a tendency to be easily swayed and fooled when it came to them. It was almost as it his main goal in life was to flirt with any girl nearby.
You know the type, right? The guy who’s never really serious and is always striving to be the cool one in the group. To be honest, whenever he tried to pull off this act, it often came across as a bit foolish. Annoying, isn’t it?
BEFORE 2 MONTHS
Shivam and I were directed by Pratik to Mr. Khanna’s stateroom.
We made our way to the house.
‘Listen, Mr. Khanna is an extremely rigid person. You should behave properly at all times. Avoid using a loud voice. Never say more or less. Best wishes. If you live, we’ll cross paths once more.’
My heartbeat picked up after hearing Pratik say these things. My hands and thighs began to tremble. You are now wondering what Shivam must have experienced, right?
34 In the Arms of a Soldier I greeted Mr. Khanna according to protocol and asked, ‘May I come in, sir?’
‘Yes, please come in,’
Shivam and I walked into Mr. Khanna’s office, and from the moment we met him, he exuded confidence while maintaining a humble demeanour. His warm grin and kind eyes immediately put us at ease. Mr. Khanna’s side-combed salt and pepper hair was impeccably styled, giving him a distinguished look. Despite his age, he carried himself with professionalism and experience that commanded respect. His glossy black leather shoes and perfectly tailored suit, complete with a pocket square, reflected his attention to detail.
As we spoke to him, it was evident that Mr. Khanna had lived a full life, one that had seen both joy and challenges. His facial wrinkles hinted at the stories he could tell, and being around him made everyone feel more confident, thanks to his calming presence and quiet strength. He gave the impression of being an intelligent, well-informed, and highly trustworthy individual.
We introduced ourselves to Mr. Khanna and handed over our papers, but Shivam continued to tremble with nerves. After a quick review of our files, Mr. Khanna picked up the office phone and made a call, instructing someone to come to his cabin. He then resumed reading or organizing his paperwork.
My ears were still ringing from Pratik’s words earlier, but to be entirely honest, Mr. Khanna didn’t come across as rigid or imposing as Pratik had made him out to be. After a brief wait, a woman entered the cabin, marking the next chapter in this intriguing encounter.
She asked without even recognizing our presence, ‘You called me sir?’
‘Yes.’ Mr. Khanna introduced us to Sonal as Shivam Agarwal and Pranali Sharma, respectively.
‘She is Sonal Malhotra, Pranali and Shivam.’
‘Hello,’ I greeted Sonal.
That shy creature said, ‘Ha.. hello,’ adjusting his glasses.
‘It is nice to meet you,’ Sonal said.
‘They are the newest members of team 7, Sonal,’ said Mr.
Khanna.
‘Team 7?’ I questioned in my head.
Mr. Khanna instructed Sonal, ‘Tell them then how our company operates and what their roles are in this company.’
Sonal nodded.
‘Follow me,’ she said to us. I and Shivam and I followed her.
‘Ma’am,’ I inquired as eagerly as I could, ‘What is team 7?’
‘I’ll describe it to you,’ she responded, ‘Follow me.’ She led the way to the gathering space. She urged everyone to take a seat.
‘Thank you.’
As the projector lit up the screen, a PPT presentation came to life. The presenter, a woman with a calm demeanour, embarked on a journey through the company’s history, its current objectives, and the ambitious long-term plans. To be honest, it was, well, pretty dull. The graphs, charts, and statistics seemed to soar to heights beyond my comprehension.
Yet, in the midst of this rather tedious presentation, one person stood out. Shivam, sitting beside me, leaned in with a focused gaze.
He seemed to hang on to every word, his attention undivided by the droning monotony of the slides. It was as if he saw something in that presentation that I couldn’t quite grasp.
In the realm of business presentations, where figures and forecasts can easily overwhelm, Shivam’s unwavering attention was a testament to his dedication and perhaps his ability to find meaning in even the driest topics.
After what appeared to be a tedious lesson, she questioned us,
‘Understood?’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Shivam yelled in response
‘But Ma’am, what is Team 7?’ I questioned.
‘Look, we work on projects in teams at this firm. As a result, the job is finished quickly and new, creative ideas are continued.
There are 5 people on each squad. You both belong to our squad, which is group 7.’
‘So, who are the other two squad members?’
‘Nimrit Shergil and Pratik Verma.’
I was overjoyed to be on my roommate Nimrit’s squad.
PRESENT DAY,
‘Listen Pranali, I think we are close friends, in order to share everything with us. There’s no need to be uncomfortable,’ Sonal said.
She was like the Barbie doll of our group, always impeccably dressed with a remarkable fashion sense. Her attention to detail was astonishing – she would even change her nail polish daily to match her outfit.
This gifted young woman shared a temperament much like Nimrit’s – kind-hearted and warm-hearted. There was something else about her that I couldn’t help but notice. Whenever Pratik, one of our friends, tried to flirt with other girls, she seemed uncomfortable with it. It was clear that she had strong feelings for Pratik.
As time elapsed, I would come to understand the reason behind her feelings.
As a result, Sonal was the Barbie girl of our group, Pratik was the cool man and pervert, and Shivam was the baby boy and introvert. Squad 7 was regarded as the best squad overall because of this. We used to finish tasks ahead of schedule. We had a mutual agreement and went beyond being a team. We resembled a family.
Father Shivam, mother Nimrit, younger boy Pratik, his girlfriend Sonal, and older daughter Pranali made up the family.
Pratik’s trademark grating chuckle accompanied his question,
‘Did you have a breakup?’
‘Will you just shut up?’ Sonal commanded.
I told them everything that had occurred that morning as I was leaving for work.
Pratik growled once more, ‘Ohh.. so that’s the issue.’
‘Pranali, don’t think about it.’ Sonal attempted to imitate my mother by saying, ‘The more you think about it, the more depressed you will feel.’
‘You are correct; you should pay attention to mother Sonal.’ It was Pratik once more.
God of annoyance.
‘Stop talking,’ Sonal retorted. She continued, ‘You all boys are the same.’
Shivam and Pratik gave her disturbed glances. I believe Pratik received it correctly.
‘What’s wrong with it,’ she questioned.
‘Oh really?’ Pratik questioned.
‘Yes, truly,’ Sonal retorted.
‘I am unique.’
‘From what direction?
‘Every,’ Pratik answered.
‘Why do you then always look at Arti?’ she questioned.
Shivam, Sonal, Pratik and I all turned to face Arti, who was seated right behind Pratik. In our workplace, she was the cutest girl. How then could Pratik, who is perverse, miss the opportunity?
‘I never do it,’ he said.
‘You do,’ she said.
‘Be quiet,’
‘You must be quiet.’ And as usual, their pointless argument began. Shivam and I were having fun.
38 In the Arms of a Soldier Shivam called me, ‘Pranali. Do you feel good right now?’
‘Yes,’ I replied.
‘Just put the morning’s events in the past.’
I responded, ‘Okay,’ with a sincere grin on my face.
Stop, you two, why are you fighting, Nimrit yelled as she entered the group.
Sonal remarked, ‘This idiot initiated this fight.’
Pratik argued, ‘No, this fight was initiated by this pig’s daughter.’
‘All right, go return to your work,’ Nimrit commanded.
We went to a café after finishing our job in the office. Shivam provided the delight. We then went back to our apartment.
I didn’t even eat supper that night because I was so exhausted.
I only dressed and lay on the bed. However, I continued to monitor my WhatsApp to see if Vikrant had messaged me or not. He didn’t.
It had been three days since that day. He hasn’t messaged me yet, though.
Come on, yaar, how is this even possible? Is he acting this way on purpose or is he actually busy? I asked myself, ‘Is he trying to show me attitude?’
Then I made the decision to question Nimrit about Vikrant. I then decided to abandon my goal. Nothing else was an option; I could only wait.
…
Finally, the weekend had arrived, and Sunday was bathed in brilliant sunshine. The warm breeze enveloped everything, creating a sense of tranquillity. Yet, there was something that kept coming up, Nimrit’s voice, a constant ache in my heart. I couldn’t help but be grateful for the air conditioning that seemed to save me from drowning in my own thoughts.
In reality, Sunday is a precious gift for those who toil tirelessly throughout the week. It’s the one day when people can engage in their favourite activities and cherish quality moments with their families. The anticipation of Sunday is akin to how peacocks yearn for rain; it’s filled with hope and excitement.
But here’s the twist - the true joy of Sunday often finds its way into Saturday. Do you ever feel like the entire Sunday is spent dreading the arrival of Monday? It’s like a shadow that looms over the day, reminding us of the impending workweek.
Sunday, a day of rest and leisure, can sometimes be bittersweet, as the impending Monday casts its long shadow. So, while we long for the relaxation and happiness Sunday promises, we can’t help but feel the ever-approaching Monday lurking just around the corner.
At 10am, I awoke. Actually, we had a modest party last night.
Our celebration was on Saturday night. On that night, we would perform dances, sing songs, view movies, and more. We lay in bed at 1am in the morning.
I was reading the book ‘I will go with you,’ which had that as its title.
She was Nimrit, who shouted ‘Pranali.’
‘Actually,’ she admitted, ‘I have a meat craving today.’
‘Of pig?’ I playfully questioned.
‘Pranali,’ she muttered.
‘Sorry. What do you need from me, then?’
If I was going to listen to her quickly, she said, ‘I want you to make biryani for me.’ I grinned. She believed that by looking like that, she had persuaded me.
‘Forget,’ I replied.
‘Come on, Pranali,’
‘No.’
‘I am your senior, so listen. So please do as I say, okay’ she said, attempting to sound intelligent.
‘Excise me. You are my senior in the workplace. We are both the same here,’ I said.
‘Come on, Pranali, yaar.’ She pleaded for help with a fake innocent expression on her face.
‘Okay, I’ll get there just because you said so.’
‘Liar, say na, you too have a craving for biryani,’ a voice inside me said.
She hugged me and said, ‘Thank you, thank you, thank you.’
I said, holding up a novel to her, ‘Aa ok, but I will make it tonight, not now, I want to finish this novel.’
‘Okay,’ she retorted.
After a few moments of silence, Nimrit questioned, ‘You know something?’
‘What now?’
She remarked, ‘Vikkie bhaiyya loves biryani so much.’
‘Now who is Vikkie?’ I questioned.
‘Vikrant bhaiyya, occasionally I refer to him as Vikkie.
Everyone in our village used to nickname him Vikkie,’ she said.
‘Pranali, this is your opportunity,’ my inner voice said.
‘Why don’t we call him to our biryani party tonight,’ I asked Nimrit.
‘Idea is fantastic,’ she retorted.
She jokingly remarked, ‘Finally you started using your brain.’
I looked at her angrily.
She continued, ‘But what if he’s busy tonight?’
I said, ‘First, at the very least, call him. Then, we’ll see if he shows up or not.’
She said, ‘Okay,’ and went out onto the terrace to make a call.
‘But why are you so eager to meet Captain Vikrant, Pranali?’
my inner voice questioned.
I retorted, ‘No, no, nothing like that.’
‘Really’
‘Yes its 7 days up and he didn’t messages me. That’s why….’
‘Ok ok..’
‘Stay quiet, let me complete this novel’, I said to myself.
‘But I hope he will come tonight’, I said in my mind.
‘Got you,’ exclaimed my inner voice.
‘Shut up’.
After few minutes, Nimrit returned. Her face was bright. It said, Vikrant is coming tonight.
‘Bhaiyya is coming tonight’, she said.
‘Yes yes yes..’, I said in my mind.
‘Oh really’, I said acting like.. its okay then.
‘Yes’
‘All right’, I said with smile on my face.
I had already planned what I would do and say to Captain Vikrant. He will first sound the bell. I will then proceed to unlock the door. Then I will respond ‘Welcome, sir’ with complete confidence. He will then enter.
Then, I will say, ‘Please have a seat,’ and I will say it with complete assurance. He will then respond, ‘Yes, thank you.’ We will then engage in discussion. Then, when it is appropriate, I will ask Captain Vikrant if he has my phone number. He will then respond ‘Yes.’
Then I’ll ask ‘Why haven’t you messaged me yet?’ He will then acknowledge his error and apologise to me. And I will pardon him with all my heart.
42 In the Arms of a Soldier Give me your number and I’ll massage you, I’ll add after that.
I’ll send him a WhatsApp message as a concluding step.
‘You make me proud, Pranali. What a wise decision you made. Finally, you are an adult,’ I told myself.
‘Rubbish one,’ replied my inner voice.
It was 7pm Vikrant will arrive at any time, according to Nimrit’s announcement. I last noticed myself in the reflection.
I wore a blue outfit. I put on pink lipstick and showered in my best scent. Bell finally ranged. Their pulse quickened as their bell ranged. ‘Do everything as it is intended,’ I told myself. I moved forward towards the entrance very slowly while retaining all of my self-confidence. However, Nimrit unexpectedly moved forward and unlocked the door.
A first step successfully failed.
He was greeted by Nimrit. He wore a full-sleeved black blouse with black bottoms. the same bright blue eyes.
‘Ankhon me teri, ajab si ajab si adaye hain’, my inner voice said.
Only one distinction stood out to me about him. And that was his last time shaving clean. His scant whiskers, however, were now visible. potentially a length of 4 millimetres. And let me tell you, he had a very seductive appearance. Nothing else was altered.
The same lean frame, wide shoulders, firm figure… excuse me.
Every single word I intended to say was said by her.
Step two was unsuccessful too.
Vikrant approached me. He smelled nice, just like the previous time.
‘Please,’ my inner voice begged, ‘Ask him what perfume he wears this time.’
‘Have you lost your mind?’
‘Please’
‘Shut up,’ I commanded myself.
‘Hello, Pranali,’ said Vikrant, extending his right palm.
‘Hello, sir,’ I said as I shook hands. My hands trembled once again. He observed once more.
‘Go to hell, Pranali Sharma,’ said my inner voice.
I said, ‘Please have a seat,’ with all the assurance I could muster.
Yes, the final step worked.
During our gathering, Vikrant, Nimrit, and I engaged in a delightful conversation, reminiscing about our childhood memories. Vikrant and Nimrit, in particular, couldn’t help but recall one unforgettable incident from their early days.
‘You know, Pranali,’ Vikrant began with a smile, ‘We had this neighbour, an aunt who was quite stern and strict. She had a cat, and oddly enough, the cat seemed to inherit her sternness. Back then, we used to play cricket, and on one particular day, I was in top form. I hit a magnificent six, and, well, it happened to land right on her cat.’
A chorus of laughter erupted as we imagined the comical scene of a cricket ball making a rather unexpected target out of the neighbour’s feline companion. Vikrant, despite his usually composed demeanour, blushed ever so slightly, feeling somewhat self-conscious about the memory.
‘That aunty,’ Nimrit chimed in after sharing a hearty laugh,
‘She was quite upset about it. She complained to our family and didn’t hold back in her criticisms of Vikkie Bhaiyya here.’
Vikrant’s cheeks turned even rosier as we chuckled at the memory. His protective instincts for his younger self clearly hadn’t waned over the years.
‘And you know what Vikkie Bhaiyya did that evening’ Nimrit continued, her eyes twinkling with mischief. ‘He decided to teach her a lesson, and, well, let’s just say her house ended up with a many broken window panes that day.’
44 In the Arms of a Soldier Another round of laughter filled the room as we pictured the determined young Vikrant venting his frustration in such a memorable way.
Amidst the jovial atmosphere, Nimrit excused herself to check on the status of the biryani in the kitchen, leaving Vikrant, Pranali, and their shared childhood memories to warm the room with laughter and nostalgia.
‘Pranali, this is it; this is your chance.’ My inner voice told me to ask him why he hadn’t messaged me yet, so I collected all of my chakra and energy and said, ‘Nice shirt.’
‘Idiot.’
‘Oh, thanks,’ Vikrant said.
After a few moments of silence, I inquired, ‘Can I ask you something?’
‘Yes off course,’
I asked, ‘Why didn’t you... message me?’
‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘You know, I was a little busy last week.’
‘What do you mean by busy?’ I asked in my head.
‘After that day, we actually had a meeting where it was agreed that I would travel to Bengaluru to meet with our Commanding Officer to discuss some important matters. After coming back, I had to shift to HQ Recruiting Zone at Bhowanipore from HQ
near Fort William. I really forget to message you during all of this,’ he confessed.
‘It’s okay,’ I retorted.
He said, ‘I’ll message you tonight.’
‘No need,’ Oh, I did say it. I’m not sure where my assurance to state that came from.
I made it plain, ‘Because.. give me your mobile number, and I will message you.’
‘Oh, All right,’ he sighed in relief and said, ‘Take 992234.....’
And was saved.
Biryani had been prepared, and we gathered around the dining table. I served Vikrant a steaming plate of biryani, and the fragrant aroma filled the room. But something unexpected happened when Vikrant took his first bite – he closed his eyes in sheer delight. I exchanged a puzzled glance with Nimrit, who had a satisfied grin on her face.
Without hesitation, Vikrant declared, ‘Mind-blowing.’
Nimrit burst into laughter, and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment. ‘This is the best biryani I’ve ever had,’ Vikrant continued, his appreciation shining through. ‘You know, when I’m on my missions, there’s only one thing I truly miss, and that’s this delicious food variety. I’m so grateful, Pranali.’
His usual composure seemed to vanish as he happily devoured the biryani, resembling a child lost in the joy of a favourite treat. It was an adorable sight that warmed my heart.
After our satisfying meal, Vikrant suggested, ‘I would really appreciate some ice cream now.’ Nimrit enthusiastically agreed, and we decided to head to “Happiness Ice Cream.” The nightlife in Kolkata was vibrant, with a pleasant and brisk temperature. The stars sparkled above us, and the moon added to the enchanting atmosphere. Vikrant took the wheel, with Nimrit joining me in the car.
As we sped through the city, Vikrant expertly manoeuvred the car, maintaining a perfect balance of speed and safety. We couldn’t help but enjoy the thrill of the ride. Finally, we arrived at “Happiness Ice Cream,” where a digital screen displayed a tempting array of flavours. It was a tough decision – which flavour should I choose?
The evening was filled with simple pleasures – delicious food, fast rides through the city, and the excitement of choosing the perfect ice cream flavour. It was a moment of pure happiness, and I couldn’t help but savour every second of it with Vikrant and Nimrit by my side.
‘Which flavour do you like?’ Vikrant questioned.
‘Butterscotch,’ I said in response. Vikrant smiled.
‘And you, Nimmu?’
‘I’ll take vanilla.’ He then requested ‘2 butterscotch and 1
vanilla.’ Even Vikrant enjoyed the taste of butterscotch.
‘Am.. it’s good,’ I said.
‘Do you enjoy it?’ Vikrant questioned.
‘So much,’ I answered. Ice cream consumed, it was time to head back home.
Nimrit said, ‘Bhaiyya, I’ll drive the car.’
‘Is she even capable of operating a vehicle? Does She have a licence?’ I asked myself.
Giving her the key, Vikrant said, ‘Okay.’ Nimrit was behind the wheel. I felt slightly apprehensive. Vikrant joined me by occupying the rear. We arrived in our chamber without incident.
Vikrant wished us farewell before departing. He had to travel 19km to reach Bhowanipore.
My inner voice advised me to message him. But what to?;That’s the question.
I typed a note after spending an hour in deep thought. When you find out which letter I wrote, you’ll be surprised.
“Itz Pranali” yes, it was the note, which was sent.
After some time, he responded.
‘Hello, reached?’
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘Just a moment ago.’
What should I say next? I began to consider.
‘You looked so beautiful today’, he messaged. It was totally surprising for me. ‘Thank you sir,’ I replied.
‘Hey don’t call me sir. Just call me Vikrant. After all, we are now friends, right?’
‘Yes sir,’ I replied. ‘I mean Vikrant,’ I corrected.
‘You cook really well Pranali’.
‘Thank you so much,’ I replied with smile emoticon.
‘By the way, what are your hobbies?’ he asked an unexpected question. Now how does one reply?
‘I like to listen old songs, watch movies and read novels’
‘Great,’ he replied. Now their was nothing great in it.
‘Yours ?’ I asked.
‘Reading novels, watching anime and cartoons, playing badminton and cricket, etc.’
‘Watching cartoons?’
‘Yes, my favourite cartoons are Doremon and Shinchan,’
he retorted with a smile emoticon, ‘And Naruto is my favourite anime. Actually, I have a very busy agenda every day, but I still find time for the things I enjoy,’ he continued. Our discussion was going really well. We exchanged preferences and dislikes with one another.
His preferences-
Hero- Shah Rukh Khan
Heroine- Deepika Padukone
Movie- Mohabattein
Song- Hum tumko nigaho me
Colour- Black and blue
Food- Chicken biryani (specially made by me) Sweet- Ras malai
I will spare you the rest of our discussion.
It marked the start of both my happy times and our new relationship.
#thankyouwhatsapp
