Chapter 9 : Yes Abhay, I'd like that.

I place the small but heavy cardboard box on the worn and definitely well used study table, placed at an odd angle blocking the balcony, and let out a sigh.

"What's in this box Abhay? It weighs a ton," I ask, swiping my sweaty palms on my jeans.

The said person lifts his head, pauses taking things out of the box labelled 'kitchen', "Oh that! That has my medical books. Sorry about that, I should've carried it," he says, sounding apologetic.

"No problem, I'm a strong girl, see," I lift my arms and flex my non existent bicep muscles. He just chuckles at my antics.

Today is the day Abhay is moving into his new home, exactly one week after the girl's day out. After two days of over analysing, dreaming, self reprimanding, giggling, blushing, sighing, slapping myself, I finally had enough of my own dumb self acting like a harmonal teenager, so I snapped out of it and calmed down a bit. From Monday I've been working on the 'dawn sky dress'. I decided to call it that. Dress with all shades of blue doesn't sound appealing. The fabric and embellishments came out great, now it's upto me to make it a masterpiece, and it has to be a masterpiece, because I've spent a good fortune on it, and if I don't make enough selling it, I'd have to skip this months rent, which will only prove to my parents that what I do isn't a 'real job' and for them to pester me to get one. No thank you.

We've been brining cardboard boxes from Rajiv's mini pick up truck parked below. He uses it to get supplies for his restaurant or for delivering catering services. I borrowed it to help shift Abhay's stuff from his brother's apartment to here. His brother's family couldn't be here to help him settle in, as they had plans to visit Aarti's parents today.

The books box I just placed down, happens to be the last of it. Abhay doesn't have a lot of stuff though. He only has like 11 boxes, out of which 5 has books in them, a study table and an electric stove. I think even this house will be bigger for him.

I look around the almost empty house, "Abhay, you need furniture. You only have a study table. You already have a cot fixed with the interior, so you'll only need a sofa set, or at least two recliners. You need a dining table, a small two seater one will suffice. You don't have any appliances either. You need a tv and most importantly a refrigerator. Oh and we also need to stock the groceries," I add, thinking of everything that is needed to make this place a home, or at least a bachelor pad.

He gives me an amused smile, "Yes mam. I'll start shopping for all those things right away," he says, going back to digging around boxes.

"Abhay, stop putting everything out of the boxes, it'll only make arranging harder. Your sister in law and mother have neatly labelled every box. You start with your cloth closet, I'll start arranging the kitchen. Ok?" I ask the confused looking guy.

"Yeah, that makes sense," he agrees, looking relived to have found some direction on how to do things.

He grabs the two suitcases containing, all his clothes apparently, and starts dragging them to the only bedroom of the flat. But just before he could disappear through the door, he stops and turns around, giving me a soft and meaningful smile.

"Thanks Dia, you didn't have to do this, but you still did. I know you are busy with your dress, so I appreciate both the help and the company," he tells me, somehow packing each sentence with a sincerity only he could muster. He gives me one more smile filled with meaning before disappearing out of sight. There it goes again. A tiny spark of joy and hope rises in my gut, again.

The smile he just gave me, somehow makes me feel special. With that smile, it seems as if he is saying that I am special, that I am important. It's hard to explain, but I don't think people go around throwing such smiles to just anyone. Smiles that reach the eyes, the eyes that look directly at you with a gentle, almost content look.

These smiles are one of the most beautiful things about him, and these have also been causing a lot of harm to my once simple and uncomplicated life.

You see, I met with Abhay only once in the last week. We have been in regular touch though, through texts and calls. I even called saturday evening after I returned from the shopping spree and apologized for both dragging him to the hangout and for my idiot friends. The sweet guy that he is, immediately brushed it aside, and even went as far as to say that he had fun.

On wednesday, he came to the apartment to sign some papers and get the keys to his new home, and naturally he stopped by to say hello. And of course, I invited him to stay for lunch, naturally. We had a great afternoon, talking, laughing and exchanging stories. I had just finished telling him the story about me trying to coax, then plead, then beg, and even bribe the bharathanatyam teacher at Vrindavan Vilas to let me join her class, but unfortunately she didn't give in to any of my 'charms', and remained teaching only primary school kids. Abhay was looking at me the whole time, as if amazed, with the same beautiful smile on his face, giving way to flutters of joy and a spark of hope within me.

It was getting harder and harder with each day to push these feelings aside, so I just decided to embrace them, and channel my affection. It didn't seem to go away just because I wanted it to, so I just decided to be myself, the me who likes the sweet and kind professor. It's nothing to be ashamed of. Showing and feeling affection is a good thing. I know that it might lead to heart break, but I can't control what's to come, all I can do is enjoy the moment.

On thursday, I decided to get him a house warming gift, but I had no idea where to start. I didn't want to be typical and give him some home appliance, so I resorted to the expert for advice. The expert being google, of course. As I was browsing through different articles and ideas, I came across a Hindu house warming tradition.

I immediately knew what his present was going to be. He is not the type of guy to want for home appliances or decorative pieces, and what he'd definitely appreciate is a sense of home and tradition. I'm sure if his mother was here, she'd have done the same.

So, here I am, standing in his new kitchen, after sending him to his room to unpack and arrange his stuff, plugging in the electric stove, hoping to surprise him a little.

I quietly sneak out of the open main door to where I've hid the bag containing a new medium sized stainless steel pot, a milk packet, two mugs, a sugar box and chocolate syrup, behind the neighbours big potted plant. I take the bag and quietly sneak back inside. I set everything on the counter.

After rinsing the pot, filling it with milk and placing it over the electric stove, I go to his room. I see him neatly arranging his clothes, one by one. "Hey Abhay, Come on, I have a surprise for you," I call out, excited for him to see it, experience it.

He looks surprised by just those words, "surprise? Dia you have already done so much!" he says, but reaches me at the door anyway.

"Oh come on, don't be so formal, it's what we do for people we care," I say, and lead him towards the kitchen.

When he sees the mugs, and the pot filled with milk on the counter, his face immediately lights up, "Really? How did you know?" he asks with a big smile.

"Well, I was searching for a house warming gift for you, when I came across this article on this tradition of boiling milk till it flows off the seams in a new vessel in the new home. It symbolises the abundance of joy and prosperity we wish for in our life in the new home. I thought you might like it. I also asked my mom if this was something they did in Karnataka, and apparently it's done all over the country. Do you like it?" I ask, but judging by the huge smile on his face, I can already pat myself for the good job.

"Yes! I like it. In fact, my mom just called me a few minutes ago asking me to do the same. Thank you so much Dia, this truly is the best house warming gift you could've given me," he says, giving me another one of his beautiful, meaningful smiles.

"Good! Then what are you waiting for Dr. Sharma? Go ahead and switch it on. I even checked to see if this is a good time according to muhurath, and it absolutely is!" I say, my happiness and excitement increasing at seeing him so bright and happy.

He readily does as told, chanting a little prayer to the God. We patiently watch the milk boil, holding light conversation about things people traditionally do at house warmings. I explain to him that, after the milk is boiled, we add something sweet to it and have it as the first food in the new home.

As the milk boils to the surface and flows just over the edge, Abhay switches off the stove. Together we start arranging the few utensils he pocesses into the kitchen draws and cabinets, as we let the milk cool down a bit.

As Abhay arranges the last of his utensils and the bare minimum groceries he has, I set about making chocolate milk in the two mugs.

Once done, we each grab a mug and move to the balcony. We started the shifting after lunch, at around 2 pm and now the sun is already setting.

I look at the view, the sun ready to set behind a small hill in the distance. There is a gentle breeze in the air. The sky is painted in different shades of pinks and oranges and purples. Some bright stars already start to shine through. Over all, I couldn't help but find the setting pretty romantic. Two people, a man and a woman, drinking coco, admiring the sunset, content with each others presence and company. Yes, it definitely seems like a romantic scene.

Apparently, Abhay thought so too, because that's when he drops the bomb on me. No, no, he didn't tell me a bad news. Nope, this is a good bomb, a great bomb in fact! A colorful, sparkly bomb, which burst into joy and wonder and color and fragrance and sparkle.

"Dia," I hear Abhay call my name, and look away from the beautiful sky towards the beautiful man, to find him already looking at me with an admiring expression, accompanied by a gentle smile.

"Will you like to go on a date with me?" he asks, his smile widening along with my eyes. I stare at him surprised, speechless. I truly wasn't expecting that. Here I was, over analyzing everything about the guy, and thinking about him at least once every waking hour, and convincing myself that he was not the dating kind, while he simply stands there flashing me his adorable smile, holding hot coco in his hand, and asks me on a date, as if it's natural.

Isn't it though? Doesn't it feel natural to be standing here, with him, in this moment, while he asks me out on a date? The answer is simple. Yes, it seems so right and natural.

Now that I've experienced this! This moment right here, him asking me out, I can't imagine how I could've thought any differently. How I could've convinced myself that this isn't what was going to happen? That this isn't where we were headed? Because, it is where we are, it is where we should be, and it is where we have been heading towards since the moment we met each other.

So, I give the beautiful man my answer, "Yes Abhay, I'd like that," this time, my surprise is long gone, my smile out shines his, out shines the setting sun.

"I'm happy to hear that," he says, biting his lip over a smile, as if controlling the smile that wants to break free. Once again his words ring with sincerity. The way this man makes the most normal sentences so meaningfully sincere amazes me each time.

We both continue sipping our coco, both clearly giddy with happiness, excitement and probably a little disbelief too. So I decide to ask and earase away the tiny bit of doubt from my mind, before it eats me up.

"Abhay, can I ask you something?" I ask, turning towards him, placing my empty mug on the study table by the balcony door.

"Yes, of course," he prompts, placing his own cup beside mine.

"To be honest, I believed you to be the kind of guy who marrys the girl his parents choose for him. I didn't expect you to ask me out on a date. I'm not saying it's a bad thing, I like that you are a good son, but I'm also not complaining about you asking me out," I tell him everything on my mind.

"Yes, you are right. I'm the kind of guy who marrys whichever girl his parents choose for him, and that's how I thought it would happen. But Dia, I didn't expect to meet you. I didn't expect you to be so amazing and smart and caring and funny and beautiful and so full of life. You completely amaze me Dia. I like you, I admire you, I adore you. As you might already know, I'm not in this for some fun Dia, I'm really serious about you. And I know that you'd like to take things slow, and I'd like that too. I want to take you out on a date, so I can give you a chance to get to know me as a partner, instead of a friend, and decide if you think I'm good enough to be by your side," he pauses, and gently, tentatively takes my left hand into his, making my already racing heart race faster, and my throat to tighten, "You are right, I'm not the dating kind of guy either, but I can make an excemption for the right woman, and for me Dia, you are as right as it can get," he finishes, looking me directly in the eyes, his sentences, as always, oozing with pure sincerity.

My throat tightens further, and for a second I worry that I might cry, but manage to compose myself. I think my affections towards this beautiful man just doubled.

So, I say, hoping to sound as sincere as he did, "You are as right as it can get for me too," I squeeze his hand, hoping to have conveyed all my feelings in that one sentence, because that is the absolute truth.

He is incredibly and wonderfully right for me.