A/N

Epilogue is in first person POV, and this is Anya's.

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I took my order of freshly brewed, steaming, filter coffee with two Hatti samosas and sat down at an empty table. It was the newly located Hatti Kaapi next to my temporary work location. Though it did not match the virginal filter coffee from home, it did come a close third. The second was my filter coffee experience with Ajay.

I flipped through the contract documents on my laptop. It was with a prominent construction company. This time the contract period was long, the budget was huge, and so were the expectations.

I'm confident that we would pull through come what may. I'm glad some people have become conscious of making environment-friendly choices for the betterment of society and increase the longevity of our natural resources.

It all began when I went home after the job fiasco. My dust-free room and my bed with a fresh bedspread brought me relief. It was as though I never left.

"I get the maid to clean the place from time-to-time. Your nanna* and I don't want it any other way. Hope you have everything that's needed. The breakfast is ready. Come down once you freshen up," my mother said peeking through my room door.

"We are glad you are back," she included as an afterthought and went away before I could reply.

I was dumbfounded to hear those words from her. I shook my head to clear my thoughts, setting it aside as a casual slip.

That day our breakfast was unusual as we ate in silence without indulging in any of my father's favourite topics. I was lost in thoughts but was fully aware of their gazes that darted to me too often. I didn't know if they pitied me, and I didn't want to know. I bent my head, praying to the unknown almighty to somehow revert to the past where I had been invisible in their presence.

I couldn't take it any longer and stood up from my barely touched breakfast to leave the room with a whispered, "Excuse me!"

"Ammalu*!" my father's insistent voice stopped me in my tracks. I turned around and looked at him. He gestured me to sit down.

"I am tired, and I want to sleep," I said not willing to prolong the interrogation session that I knew would happen.

My parents exchanged glances, and this time my mother insisted, "It'll not take long. Come and sit here." She indicated a chair next to hers. I took a deep breath and sat down.

Minutes passed, and my irritation grew. "If there is nothing to discuss, I want to take rest. I'm tired."

"Ammalu, what happened? You look defeated. You don't give up. Amma and I weren't that thrilled about your career path, but we trust you," he finished emphatically.

My mother nodded and continued in the same breath, "I think it's time you should know something. Anya, research was our top priority, and it still is. You were an active child. In some foolish part of our brain, both of us decided to bring you up as a live experiment.

"We thought if we let you alone, you would exercise your freewill without impediment. We gave you enough books to develop freedom of thought, a strong sense of right and wrong and independence.

"I took comprehensive notes of your progress and guided you to take responsible decisions but in the most detached way. Both of us had fun watching you grow, become individualistic and leave the nest. We wanted to remain unbound to you because we knew you would eventually leave us.

"But guess what happened? We grew attached to you. You are our only child, after all. And these last few years..."

As I tried to understand such disclosures, my mother paused to restrain her blatant display of emotions, which never happened before.

My father laid a protective hand on her and confessed, "We missed you. Age, you see, brings in a different perspective. However unconventional it was I have confidence in our upbringing.

"Whatever you are going through, may look insurmountable, but believe me, everything shall pass. This time, we are here for you Ammalu. Not just physically but emotionally as well."

I looked at their earnest faces. Though their admissions were unbelievably dramatic, somehow brought succour to my heart. I inherently knew that they would stand by me.

My eyes glossed with unshed tears, and when my mother squeezed my hand in support, I cried.

I broke down the second time within weeks. I could still remember Ajay's strong arms while he consoled me. Now, my mother quickly got up from her place and held me tightly.

I couldn't contain it anymore and blurted out all my woes. I mentioned Ajay only once. I planned to hold onto his thoughts in the confines of my mind to savour his presence, from time to time.

Things changed. Conversations became inclusive, and my parents did not pressure me about my future. They felt it was all for the best.

After 26 years of my existence, they were surprised when I shared my knowledge and theories willingly at the dinner table. I could sense the divide between us was getting abridged.

A few days later, my mother was busy stacking different things into her overlarge backpack and asked, "I'm going on a field trip today. Want to join?"

"Sure. Where are you going? What do you do?"

"It's for me to know, and for you to find out. Just get your laptop and your charger."

In these field trips, I met a vast network of people who worked in turning the world green by establishing sensible water and waste management systems with minimal costs, involving the local communities. Their designs were, however, primitive. They lacked insights in transforming their ideas into workable prototypes.

My data analysis background came to full use when I could project future trends using their models. Changes were made to these prototypes to convert them into viable solutions with commercial value. These were in turn promoted in middle-income households, gated communities, housing societies for zero profits.

Thus was born the new NGO for environmental services, WiCo!!(With Community). Its philosophy was simple - To help people to improve their immediate surroundings and neighbourhood providing a simple, cost-effective solution with minimum lifestyle changes. And these innovations were powered by data analytics.

My parents were happy as their academic knowledge was put to use, and I was following in their footsteps.

It took nearly three years to find our feet and create awareness. I was engaged in something that brought a lot of peace to my heart, and sometimes twenty-four hours weren't enough to grow.

The hot brew brought me back to the present. I had a meeting that evening and had to finish the tedious contract document before then. My team had left me to deal with it to enjoy at an amusement park. I hated this part of the job the most, contract documents and their jargons.

Mangalore was WiCO's base of operations. I hardly travelled to Bangalore to close deals. My team was sufficient and efficient, but this project demanded something bigger.

A fruitful half hour and a notepad full of notes later, I looked away from my laptop screen only to notice a familiar figure make way towards the counter.

I did have a small hope of seeing him again in Bangalore and more specifically at Koramangala but never imagined for my wish to come true.

There was no doubt it was Ajay Mullapudi at the counter, and his order of Filter Kaapi with Kaapi Dips was presented to him before he uttered a word. I could bet WiCO and the next NGO that this was his usual order.

He was now looking for an empty table. I slightly dipped behind the laptop screen to take a full measure of him. 

I scrutinised him. I noted how not even a strand of his hair was out of place, given it was almost evening. I followed his movements — precise and effortlessly graceful. I studied his face — stoic and calm.

I tried to reel away from my amplified awareness because I could sense his every minuscule action, I could smell his fragrance, and I could hear his breaths. When I closed my eyes, I went back in time where I could touch him without care, and he reciprocated without qualms.

It had been a while since I let him invade my mind. I knew his voice, his face and his nearness would flood me with unbridled emotions that I had kept in check for a long time now. Yet, I wanted him to join me at my table unless he did not. I was prepared to get embarrassed with rejection than to have regrets later.

I knew it was my doing to distance him. I wanted to put my life on track, and Ajay was a distraction then. I seldom took the initiative to call or to text except to diligently reply. Eventually, our conversations died a natural death.

I found through Sanjay that he was neither engaged nor married. I was not sure if he was dating someone, and I couldn't fathom my reaction if that was the case either. I'm ready to play with higher stakes.

As soon as he spotted an empty table, I called him before he sat down, "Mr Mullapudi!!"

A few interested revellers looked our way but minded their own business when Ajay noticed my raised hand. I was not ashamed but was filled with apprehension when he made no move to reach me. Though I carried colossal feelings, it was his choice to join me.

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Big changes in this new epilogue. I hope you enjoyed it. And if you've enjoyed please click the cute little star icon and post a few comments. 

Some glossary

*Amma - Mother

*Nanna- Father

*Ammalu - It's an endearment for a girl-child. Meaning is my mother.