Missing a few stairs and escaping a couple of falls, I managed to reach the coffee shop unhurt. The place was deserted at 9 a.m., which was quite a contrast from what I was used to seeing. It was usually full of people all hours of the day. It was a Saturday morning, and most people either begin their day late or super early on weekends in Melbourne.
Adira sat at the corner table. It had an unhindered view of the street outside, which was also quiet as compared to the other days. She felt my presence in the coffee shop as I walked towards her, and turned her face towards me. I froze midway and could not take my eyes off her.
She was dressed in a bright-yellow salwar suit with her beautiful, long hair spread loosely over her back. She looked more beautiful than I had ever seen her before.
Adira gave me a warm smile. I observed that her almond-shaped eyes were beautifully lined with dark streaks of kajal.
She also wore a sparkly golden bindi on her forehead. It was not the first time I had seen her dressed in traditional Indian wear, but the way she sat there was pretty as a picture; she looked like an artist’s muse—captivating and alluring. There is a certain charm in the way she looks at me, or at anyone for that matter, and I would never be able to explain it to anyone. No words can do justice to the feelings which rose in my heart when she looked directly at me, inviting me into her beautiful world.
I saw a small frown appear on her forehead, maybe because I had been staring at her for too long or probably because my mouth was open in surprise. ‘Is something the matter?’ she asked me as politely as she could, embarrassing me. ‘No . . . no.’ I bowed my head to hide my embarrassment, and waited for her to get up. I had called for an Uber which was waiting for us outside, to take us to the Sai Temple.
‘You look so . . . beautiful!’ I finally managed to tell her once we were inside the cab. There was an awkward silence hanging in the air before and after the words were spoken. But I was happy that I had told her what I felt, for better or for worse. She took it genuinely, and smiled and said, ‘Thank you!’
The temple was half an hour’s journey from our apartment. In fact, I realized that everything was half an hour to forty-five minutes distance from where we were—malls, parks, the zoo, a temple—I mean everything! I aimed to utilize our time together in the cab by trying to know more about her, but as always my plans that day too did not work.
Even before I could adjust myself next to Adira inside the cab, Adira established that the cab driver was an Indian and was in fact from her own city—Chandigarh. The rest of our trip was very pleasant for the two of them as they spoke at length about each other while I looked for opportunities to butt into the conversation every once in a while. Both of them politely ignored me and my failed attempts as they discussed Chandigarh and everything about it. Finally, we reached there in what felt like ages to me.
We got down, and she bid goodbye to her city buddy.
Adira respectfully covered her head with a dupatta that she was carrying in her purse, and we walked into a building which looked like a local corporation building in India with its red-brick walls and low-maintenance gardens. My perception changed the moment we stepped into the grand hall.
It was decorated splendidly with idols, lamps and flowers in every corner. A pujari was reciting beautiful hymns. There was a massive and perfectly sculpted marble statue of Sai Baba at the other end of the room, which was adorned with jewels and a crown. The place smelled divine with many incense sticks burning in all corners.
In a few minutes, when the hall was nearly packed with devotees, the aarti began, and everyone joined their hands, and the place went from beautiful to magical, from glorious to gloriously divine! We took our prasad at the end of the aarti and walked out.
'Thanks for bringing me here' , Adira said as we waited for our Uber to take us back to the apartment. I did not want the trip to end like that but failed miserably when it came to finding the right words, in the correct order, at the right time. Thankfully, while I was still battling with the words to form an excellent conversation starter in my head, Adira spoke.
‘You are aware of my parents’ circumstances, aren’t you?’ I knew exactly what she was talking about.
Her parents were in the process of getting divorced, and not many people knew about it. It all started when Adira moved out of Nani’s house. Piyush had told me about the legal battle which involved a lot of money as Adira’s parents were joint owners of a massive business empire. But I could not let her know or her trust on her best friend would be broken. It was Tamanna who had told Piyush, in confidence, who then told me, in good faith of course.
I shook my head, inviting her to tell me about it. I shall spare you the details of our emotional and lengthy conversation. What I will tell you is that we didn’t take that particular Uber. Instead, we walked a little as she told me about her parents and their love which had got lost over the years, and I saw her in a new light. She had so much emotional baggage with her.
We had a cup of coffee at a nearby cafe and later ate lunch at a restaurant. We returned to our respective rooms at 7 p.m.
That day, I knew things had changed. She saw me as someone she could trust, and I made a promise to myself to never break her trust at any cost. That was also the day when we held hands for the first time, and she rested her head on my shoulder.
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