1. The Methodical Madness of Cosmos


Analytical. Deliberate. Disciplined. Efficient. Methodical. Meticulous. Orderly. Organised. Planned. Precise. Structured. Systematic. Tactical.

These words, in alphabetical order, if you please, would be the words Sanskaar Ram Prasad Maheshwari would use to describe himself. He was a man of order, a man with a plan and at least a couple of back up plans (plan B, plan C, etc., after all there are twenty six letters in the English alphabet and numerous possible permutations, especially considering that there would be no restriction on the either the number of letters that could be used nor the number of times an alphabet could be repeated; which he was sure would surely run into a very large number and he would have found out the same if he had the time to compute). He, however, would not call himself perfect, he accepted that perfection was an illusion and he was quite aware of the foolishness of attempting to achieve such an elusive goal. However, he preferred to be well prepared, even for the unpredictable, which was ironic, to say the least.

His family and friends had slightly differing views.

His grandfather, Retired Major General Shiv Prasad Maheshwari, was proud of his grandson's military precision in planning and almost forgave him for the grave error of not following in his footsteps and joining the Army. He was also responsible for fostering Sanskaar's passion for planning everything down to the minutest possible detail. Ram Prasad Maheshwari, his father, on the other hand, true to his reserved and taciturn nature, expressed no opinion or reservations, though if pressed, would have admitted relief that his son's passion for planning had dimmed his father's attention on him.

His mother, Sujata, more than made up for her husband's silence by incessant grumbling about her beloved son. She loved Sanskaar but found his insistence at planning everything quite troublesome. Sujata believed in living life as it came, with no plan or preparations, which often caught her unawares and left her flustered, the degree varying from mild alarm to a full-fledged panic attack. Sanskaar grew up in a house where he had realised early on that anything that depended on his mother would rarely materialise and soon learnt to be independent of her. He loved his mother but then even love was not enough to overlook the glaring fact that his mother could not be relied upon for the most mundane tasks; there were days when making breakfast at a regular time seemed to be beyond her capabilities. He was thankful that his grandmother had never relinquished her reign over the household.

Uttara, Sanskaar's baby sister; who, as she was only three years younger, often objected quite vociferously at being called a baby, found her brother to be equal parts inspiring and obnoxious. While she admired and tried to emulate the way he managed to plan, most of the time, for she could appreciated the ease of execution that planning entailed, she could get exasperated when he tried to plan for her.

His clients and business associates adored him; his planning ensured that each advertising campaign could get executed within the timelines and with minimum fuss.

Ram Prasad had started the small advertising agency way back in the early nineties, just when the country had moved from the licence raj to the liberal economy. With his dedication and hard work, coupled with a creative ingenuity that most people would be surprised to know that he possessed, he had grown it to a fairly large and successful business.

When Sanskaar had taken over the same, rather than continuing only with the traditional modes of advertising in print and television media, he ventured into social media and digital marketing. It had been timed with his usual precision and enabled the newly christened agency to grab a large chunk of the digital sector, growing at a robust rate and received recognition for its professional services and affordable prices.

And he was tolerated by his friends, who marvelled at his parties, which were planned and executed with a finesse but otherwise cribbed about his habit of planning for everything, all in a good-naturedly manner. 

Despite his propensity to plan everything, in as much detail as possible, Sanskaar could endear himself to most of his friends and family, for he realised that not everyone could be a planner such as he was, and hence did not demand the same from them. However, though his planning and precision earned him great professional success and wonderful friendships, it somehow contributed a major share in the failure of his dating life. 

For, however hard he tried and irrespective of how well laid his plans for a date were, they invariably collapsed under the vagaries of the women he dated.

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"So how did the last date go?"

Sanskaar looked up from the menu and at Niraj, his best friend and childhood buddy who was a complete opposite to him, the disorder to his orderliness and the laissez-faire to his precision planning. Sanskaar and Niraj would both admit that it was this contrasting approach towards life that had each of them admiring the other. A lifelong friendship also ensured that there were few secrets between them.

Niraj had been drumming the table with his fingers, uncaring of the disapproving looks of the other customers, Sanskaar ignored both the drumming and his question, till he had finished placing their lunch order. It was only after the waiter had left that he confessed,"Well, it turned out to be a no show."

Niraj almost let out a whistle at the surprising news, most of Sanskaar's dates failed at the third one, but decided against it; instead as he waited for Sanskaar to continue, he noted, "That is eight in row. So what went off this time?"

Sanskaar appeared to be contemplating his answer for he kept quiet for a few minutes before admitting, "For starters, the date almost did not start. She said she would be ready by seven which meant eight thirty, but there was a part of me that hoped that she would manage by eight, so I reached her flat at around that time. I called her six times only to have her answer the phone half asleep. It seems the dinner plans had slipped her mind."

Niraj stifled the quick laughter that rose; it was funny, in a way, but then you do not laugh at your best friend's woes, especially as no woman in her right senses could forget a date with his friend. So it was with a straight face, as much as he could manage, that he asked, "And where exactly was the dinner date?"

"This place. I heard rave reviews about the food and since it offers vegetarian and vegan options, I felt it was a good choice."

This time Niraj did give a low whistle, a dinner date at Vintage Asia, (JW Marriot Hotel) that showcased innovative Thai and Chinese cuisine in a stylish yet relaxed ambience, was not to be trifled with.

"Did she know that the date was at this place?"

Sanskaar nodded but before he could say anything else, their conversation was interrupted when the waiter brought around their soups and starters; Tom Yum soups (with vegetables for Sanskaar and prawns for Niraj) and Thai Glass Noodles & Bean Sprouts Spring Rolls served with a sweet chilli sauce.

They focussed on their food for the next few minutes, savouring the distinct yet delectable flavours, their expressions seemed to enforce that opinion that the food did indeed live up to the reviews.  Once the soup bowls were cleared, they waited as the main course of Wok tossed fresh noodles with choice of vegetables and Yong Chow Fried rice (again with prawns), along with an assortment of dimsums was served. As they proceeded with their lunch, and once sure that there would be no more interruptions from the friendly serving staff, Niraj asked, "So after she confessed to forgetting, you came home?"

Sanskaar shook his head, "I wish I did that, though at that moment I thought it would a childish of me, so I asked her if I should wait while she got dressed. She took over five minutes to confirm that she would be down in twenty minutes. Those twenty minutes stretched to thirty then to forty minutes till she finally came down at half past nine; which, considering that she had to be woken up and which also would mean that she was fatigued, eighty minutes to get dressed is pretty fast."

Sanskaar paused, as the hot sweetness of the sauce mingled with the crispness of the noodles to create a burst of flavours; he spooned a couple more spoons of the noodles and decided to enjoy taste before continuing on what had been quite an unpleasant experience. 

Hence it was after quite some time, when they had almost reached the end of the main course that Sanskaar continued, "She got upset that I did not call her again but was working on a sales pitch. I thought that since she said she would be down as soon as she could, I might as well do something while waiting for her rather than keep calling or messaging her and that is what I told her. She disagreed for she felt that it showed I did not care enough for her. So she got into the car grumbling which only increased as I started to drive and continued till we reached this place. I already had reservations, two of them, at a gap of an hour between them, but then we started later than I could estimate, the traffic was especially bad and I could not contact the restaurant, so that we reached here only to learn that both were cancelled.

I was thinking what could be done. She threw a model tantrum.

It was unbelievable; I had never seen that diva side of hers, though I had heard the rumours, which by the way are not even a tenth of what she is. And her language, I wondered where and how she learnt all those swear words? The only saving grace was that she was whispering, not because she did not want to anyone to overhear, she was suffering from a sore throat.

Twenty minutes and I had enough, I apologised to the manager; everyone could see her throw a tantrum, took her by the arm and drove her back to the flat. I was not sure if I had to apologise but decided it was the decent thing to do before I broke up what we had not yet started."

"And she took it quietly?"

"No, I got a backhand, and for someone who eats as little as she does, it packed quite a punch, I was sure she cracked my jaw. Guess those rumours of her intense gym workouts are also true."

When he finished his tale of woe, Sanskaar glared at Niraj, as though daring him to laugh but then Niraj was a true friend, he just reached over and patted Sanskaar's shoulder, "Good riddance to her, though you should have sent me a photograph of the bruised jaw. And how did you explain it to your family?"

"Told them I had tripped over some camera lighting wires, which they sort of believed."

"Even Uttara?"

Sanskaar grimaced, which Niraj knew to mean that Uttara had neither accepted that excuse nor had she let Sanskaar go till he told her the truth but then he decided not to say anything further and soon the conversation shifted to other routine and less uncomfortable matters.

It was when Sanskaar paid the bill and they were about to leave that Niraj slipped over the wrapped box, "Happy birthday, I think the next date would be the one for you, 'three's a charm'."

Sanskaar laughed, "You said the same twice already."

"Yes, so this time it would be the third time I am saying it, so it would be a double charm."

Sanskaar did not answer; he was gazing at the gift, a Fossil Q smart watch and Niraj smiled at the look of awe on Sanskaar's face for he looked like a kid who had been gifted a candy shop. Though, in Sanskaar's case, a smart watch that could be synchronised to a mobile phone with a built-in fitness tracker and one that enabled most mobile notifications and whose functions included heart rate tracking and GPS was the adult equivalent of a candy shop. As Sanskaar put on the watch, he commented, "I am sure that this birthday would change something for you, maybe it is time for some change, especially in your dating arena?"

Sanskaar laughed in assent,  he did not agree that he needed change but he was glad for the friend he had. He did not pay much heed to Niraj's words either, for he was sure that with his ability to plan he would one day be able to plan his love life too.

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 However, as much as the Universe favours order (the Greeks went so far as to name the Universe as Cosmos - which generally refers to an orderly and harmonious system), at times, tiny glitches do occur. Or maybe the Universe decided to honour Niraj's wish. Or it simply felt like throwing a minor tantrum. Whatever the reason was, there was a glitch, an unexpected occurrence. It could be a mere blip in existence of the Universe, and might not significantly affect its workings but it ended up disturbing and disrupting Sanskaar's Maheshwari's life.

Sanskaar stepped into his office in a much better frame of mind than he had been before he had gone for lunch with Niraj. He knew that not much work would be done that day, his associates and staff would use his birthday as an excuse to skip working and he did not grudge it. As expected the office was all decked up and a large cake awaited him. 

Thus it was three hours later, almost near to office closing hours that he walked into his cabin and saw them, those that would change his life forever.

It was on that day, the day of his twenty seventh birthday that the flowers and note arrived, and were waiting for him on his table. The flowers were half a dozen in number, and consisted of peach carnations and salmon coloured chrysanthemums, however, instead of the standard baby breath flowers, there was a sprig of the fiery palas flowers to break the monotony of the pinks, with the stalks wrapped in a large leaf from the wild almond tree and tied together with a broad ribbon of golden gauze. It was an unusual flower arrangement, yet Sanskaar could not deny that it was pretty, if in a messy way. However, what shocked him was the childish scrawl in the accompanying note.

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And this is where the methodical madness meets a speed breaker, do let me know your views, for do remember, all feedback, good or bad is welcome. 

Next update is The Perpetual Confusion of Chaos - and would be up in a fortnight, November 5, 2018.

love,

Nyna

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