"When I see your face, there is not a thing I would change, 

'Cause you are amazing,just the way you are."

~LuxusLyrics~

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Shaurya had come to the realisation that he was falling for Aabha much earlier, almost in the initial weeks itself, when they had given up their efforts to win Nisha back. He did not know it was love at that time but he was aware that her presence in his life was important and that fact disturbed him as he was not sure as to how Aabha should matter more than Nisha. When he got the news of Nisha's wedding he had felt relieved, for all that time there was a tiny voice inside him which left him a trifle guilty that he had not really worked very hard at trying to win Nisha back as all the time that he was with Aabha, Nisha rarely figured in his thoughts.

He loved every moment he had spent with Aabha, though for him too, certain conversations stood out, and just thinking about them would put a smile on his face. 

And for him, the book she got, held a special place, though for reasons slightly different to hers. When she had given him the package and asked him to not to unwrap it till she was gone, he had simply nodded and waited for a few minutes after she left the shop; he did not care if she would know whether he would have waited or not, he would do what she asked. When he removed the wrappings, he saw it a book named, 'The Joy of x – A Guided Tour Of Mathematics, From One To Infinity". 

He smiled, though the choice was a little bewildering, he was happy that she had thought of him and had taken the trouble of buying something for him. He then opened the cover to read the message, in her small sinuous hand, she had inscribed - 

He sat for quite some time reading that single line and his fingers kept tracing the words, lingering on the A of her name. Suddenly seized by an inexplicable desire, he reached out for his pen, carefully wrote out what he wanted, dated it and closed the book. He would treasure that book though he might never get around to reading it; carefully re-wrapping the book, he placed it in one of the numerous zippered enclosures of his laptop bag.

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And as he had first noted, she had a great sense of humour tinged with quite a bit of practicality and he greatly admired her trait of not breaking into girly giggles when he openly complimented her or lightly flirted with her. He would smile when he recalled a conversation where he had first admitted his attraction to her; she had taken it in her stride and had actually matched with a smart quip of her own.

They were discussing her fascination with mathematics and Shaurya watched Aabha's face rather than listen to what she was saying, 'she really loves mathematics,' he thought as her face lit up when she extolled, "I love the way the equations can be solved, all variables slowly unravelled, gently identified to reveal the glory of numbers. What could be more beautiful than a complex equation distilled to pure numbers? You can find truth, beauty and elegance within mathematics itself and none can escape its everyday presence, educated or not, child or adult..." 

She stopped when she saw that Shaurya had his head cupped in his hands as his elbows rested on the table with a very dreamy expression in his eyes.

She glared at him and Shaurya, suddenly jolted to reality by the descending silence, looked shamefacedly at her and said, "I was listening, I swear I could hear you recite an ode to numbers. You are a mathematician hiding the soul of a poet. You sounded like you were saying something like:

To integrate or differentiate that is the equation
The order of operatives is confusing too
How could one forget the thousand natural ratios,
That maths is heir to.
Nightmares of quadratic roots or
The lost passages of vectors and tangents of time
The pangs of long division, logarithms that ease multiplication
Laws of motion, insolence of Pi and the fractal patterns
Pythagoras theorem, gorgeous geometry and terrible trigonometry...."

He trailed off, thinking he had gone too far. Then noting that Aabha was trying not to smile in spite of herself, he continued, "But apologising for the bad poetry and on a very serious note, I love numbers too, EBIDTA, EBIT, EBT, PAT, EPS... those numbers actually dictate my life at times. And recently, a certain figure seems to be occupying my thoughts too."

Aabha laughed at his statement, noting the flirtatious allusion to her and answered, "And you Shaurya, are actually a ruthless businessman masquerading as a poet."

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Another incident which Shaurya could never forget was when he had accompanied her to attend a lecture. Aabha had just mentioned in the passing that she would not be coming to the café the next day as she was planning to attend the one-day lecture seminar, organised by the Calcutta Mathematical Society to commemorate the birth anniversary of S. N. Sengupata. Shaurya knew he would not actually understand a word being spoken, let alone participate, but he simply did not want to give up her company. Despite her protests he accompanied her.

The first half of the seminar he attended to all his official mail correspondence through his mobile and even held a couple of teleconference meetings while he paced the corridors. The seminar was held in one of the smaller conference rooms of Science City and by the time the tea break was declared for the second half of the seminar, Shaurya was exhausted from sheer boredom, even though he had not heard a single word of the lecture. But then the only thing that gave him joy was seeing Aabha enjoy the lecture and her enthusiastic interaction with like-minded attendees. 

Post tea break, he was forced to sit beside her for his mobile battery had drained off. And as he could do nothing else, he sat beside Aabha trying to fathom if anything in the lecture hall, from the swirling patterns on the ceiling to the faded seating upholstery could be deemed interesting. He lost track of time for suddenly he realised that there was absolute silence around him, one of side of his face was buried into something soft while something equally soft, yet firmly, held his cheek, holding his head in position.

It took him a minute to gather his bearings and realise that he had actually fallen asleep on Aabha's shoulder and that she was firmly holding him so that his head would not roll. He would have continued to sleep if his vision did not behold the total scene in front of him; the hall was empty and at a slight distance from them stood a couple of cleaning staff, the event manager and another couple of gentlemen, who presumably were the Science Centre Officials, all wearing similar expressions of consternation and exhaustion, and then he heard Aabha hissing at them, "Please, I am not waking him up, he must be very tired and his rest is more important than this stupid cleaning you want to do, I mean it is only two chairs, you need not worry, you can do it tomorrow or later. And I do not care how long he sleeps; neither I nor any of you are going to wake him up."

It was a very embarrassed Shaurya who led Aabha out of the hall, after a round of profuse apologies, from his side, for Aabha continued to glower at them, convinced that their voices had woken him up. He also handed a sizeable tip to the cleaning staff, given when Shaurya was sure that Aabha could not see it. He waited till they were in the privacy of his car before he questioned Aabha. 

She was surprised at his tone and replied in a matter of fact manner, "First thing, you came with me because I would like it even though you knew that you would be bored out of your wits. Secondly, you must have been very tired which is why you fell asleep and there was no necessity for me to wake you up and thirdly you looked so relaxed and peaceful, I did not want to disturb you. That stupid staff could not wait a few more minutes; they behave as though they thoroughly clean all the chairs, every day of the week!"

Shaurya was speechless, partly wondering if she was for real, in his limited dealing with members of the female sex he had never come across anyone like her and was sure that even his friends with a wider experience would agree with him. All the women or girls he knew were the first to take offence if the menfolk did not enthusiastically participate in what they liked, shopping, movies, theatre etc., expected a vocal opinion, which however had to echo what they wanted, and were perpetually prepared to wage a war if the men ever even looked at their mobiles while in their company. 

And here was Aabha, who had not only not voiced a whimper of an objection at him for attending to all his calls but was actually upset that his sleep had been disturbed.

He gave her a spontaneous hug and holding her by her shoulders said, "I really do not know what to say now, I have never met anyone like you. However, I want you to know, you are amazing the way you are. Please do not change, just stay the way you, always."

Aabha gave a bemused smile, she still could never get used to the tingles that coursed through her whenever Shaurya touched her and was still pondering over what he said. She looked at him, knowing she would have to say something, so she replied, "There is ample statistical evidence that people change their habits or the display of some traits but none regarding whether people change. So statistically, it can be said that people do not change."

Noting Shaurya's amused face at her reply, she then continued, "Let us go, if I am home very late, we will find my Dadi pacing outside the colony gates, driving the security guard and all the unfortunate passers-by crazy with her worry for me. So enough of this talk, could we just start the drive back to the city?"

Shaurya nodded and started the car, the journey back home was in comfortable contemplative silence, as each wondered on the effect that the other had on them.

And here ends Shaurya's thoughts on his journey so far, though both are going to need some time to admit their feeling. However, it is about time to bring the other couple on track which might encourage these two to confess too. 

In the meanwhile, maybe you could let me know your thoughts and views, as I say, all feedback, good or bad is welcome.

love,

Nyna