• ISHAAN •

A WEEK LATER…

“Did you know that this Sunday is Advika's birthday?”

Since it was only me and Aarvi on a ride to a mall on her scooter, it was obviously Aarvi who gave me the information as a question.

I shook a no and questioned, “Are you planning something for her?”

“Well, yeah… A handwritten letter for her. And, either four paperback books or a hardcover. Both would cost the same.” I could sense her smiling out of the excitement of surprising her friend. “What about you, Ishaan? Are you getting any for her?”

There she goes, planting a question that would probably leave me sleepless for nights in the simplest way possible.

“I think I should.” Then, as I noticed the way Aarvi emphasised on paperbacks and hardcovers, I asked, “Why paperbacks or hardcovers? I mean, what is the difference between both of them?”

As it took time enough for her to process the question, she stopped riding the scooter, parked it at the roadside, and asked, “What is the difference between a rented house and a mansion you own? Both are houses to live in, right?” with a seriousness as a book-loving girl in her tone.

“Fine,” I sighed out of realisation and apologised, “Sorry. I didn't mean to ask that.”

“That's fine,” Aarvi muttered and continued the ride. “I'm glad you understood.”

“Thank you for helping me understand. By the way, don't you guys own hardcover books?”

“It costs our monthly food expenses. What do you say?” The way she compared it made me understand the problems of book lovers who wish to own hardcovers.

***

It has been one week since my hunt for Miss Aadya Chatterjee's book. My unsuccessful hunt for You Belong With Me.

After learning that Aarvi had borrowed the book to their newly-wed neighbour, Advika decided to buy one copy of that book for me. And, that was why this hunt was throughout the bookstores, eBooks, online stores, and audiobooks.

But the extreme demand for the Bestseller was preventing us from getting what we wanted: a written representation of my world.

And, as I stood in front of the theatre at the mall with a ticket in my hand, I knew that I was ignoring the obligation to accomplish the mission linked with my existence.

I entered the theatre hall while some random advertisements were playing on the screen.

I waited for a lot of minutes, glaring at that screen playing an eight-season-long series of advertisements, when I heard a girl next to me groan and complain, “Fuck! Can't they just play the movie already?”

“I think they won't.” I looked at the girl and joined her in roasting the advertisements. “Are they waiting for the Prime Minister to inaugurate the show?”

“Probably.” She shrugged and laughed, showcasing her overgrown canine. “But, I don't want anyone here. I just want the movie to run right now.” Pausing for a second as if to remember something, she added, “Have we met somewhere? You look so familiar.”

Was You Belong With Me adapted into some comic? I wonder why I was such a dumbass for not knowing much about my universe's role in this universe.

Yet, embracing the question with an unsuspecting smile, I replied, “No. I'm new to this city.”

“Oh! No wonder you're here,” she joked and chuckled at it, making me chuckle as well. “Did you know why there's a countable number of people in this hall? Because, everyone knows that this is a movie that deserves only the attention of reviewers, cast and crew of the movie, and lovers who badly want to have a hot makeout session.” Adding a deliberate pause, she continued, “Also, people who are new to this city.”

“Oh!” I let out an airy laughter and asked, “Then… Why are you here?”

Adjusting her black, square rimmed spectacles that framed her wine brown eyes and her position— inclined towards my side— she said, “I'm a freelance reviewer.”

If there was someone who badly needed a real brain instead of those made out of one-time use plastic, that must be me for sure.

“Oh, fuck! I'm extremely sorry. By the way, your name?” As I noticed the hesitation in her face, I added, “You may know mine as well. I'm Ishaan Ahuja,” and extended my hand.

She tried to let out a convincing chuckle as she said, “That's fine.” She reciprocated my handshake as she introduced herself as Maya Singh. “Well, Ishaan…” Maya scratched her forehead and paused out of hesitation, but later asked, “Before it gets dark, shall we take a selfie?”

I couldn't help but scrunch my eyes at her, wondering if taking selfies with strangers is a habit for this universe's people. Noticing them, she added, “I have fixation amnesia.” Seeing my frown getting deeper, she explained, “Short-term memory loss.”

The moment she said those, I wished there was a secret passage underground which would open up that moment and swallow me like a hungry shark.

“I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to ask that. Please don't—”

“That's fine, Ishaan.” Maya let out a tiny smile— the one that looked too hopeful for a fixation amnesiac— and extended her phone for the selfie. As I nodded my head, she switched it on and took around three selfies of us.

Then, as if on cue, the movie started to run with a statutory warning for not to smoke, drink, and use drugs.

***

THREE HOURS LATER…

Maya was right. That movie deserves only the attention of couples on their way to have their hot makeout session.

Before I could leave the hall, I saw a man running to the entrance without looking back, as if he was with his lover and had seen his wife.

Pity viewers.

I strolled outside the hall and, much to my pleasure, I saw a shop with amber lights glowing and the window showcasing the books stacked in the shop.

Realising that they could be the solace to the shit I had just witnessed, I ran to the opposite side of the floor and barged into the shop.

As I scanned for my universe in the Fiction section, I ended up with utter disappointment of not seeing a particular olive green-coloured spine of a book.

Until my terminally-blind eyes led me to my universe at the second shelf. I grabbed the book and was about to leave the section with the satisfaction of carrying my universe in my hands when my eyes fell on a particular bunch of four hardcover books in white with blue, yellow, red, and green respectively.

I carried the bunch and spelled the titles, “Twisted Love. Twisted Games. Twisted Hate. Twisted Lies,” while my mind reeled Aarvi spitting facts on hardcover books.

“What is the difference between a rented house and a mansion you own? Both are houses to live in, right?”

“It costs our monthly food expenses. What do you say?”

As I remembered seeing the same at the bookshelf of Advika's house, I grabbed my mobile and sent Advika a pic of these four books along with a text.

Me:
Are these books good?

Noticing that she wasn't online, I convinced myself, telling that she must be in her classes. Hence, I roamed around the bookshelf aimlessly.

Five minutes later, I heard my mobile pinging thrice, letting me hopelessly wish that it must be Advika.

And, yeah, there she was.

Advika:
Hey!
Sorry for not texting soon. I was in a class back then.
Well… Technically speaking, you're carrying a “How To Be A Fucking Green Universe: Men's Version” series. If you want to take notes and get jealous by seeing me simping those men, take it!

Me:
Me? Jealous? No way, sweetheart. I'm not that guy to do so.

Advika:
Oh, yeah! You aren't. *sideway glance*

Me:
Oh, yeah! You read “the book”, right? *skull*

Advika:
Twenty times. All for you.

Me:
Had to be so. People say that they find it hard to leave me.

Advika:
Who wouldn't if you are THIS irresistible? You sometimes make men question their sexuality, Ishaan.

“Excuse me?” A teen girl in a mustard yellow Brooklyn hoodie shirt requesting me to move aside from where I was standing had brought me back to the texts I had with my lady, thereby forcing me to wipe that coy smile on my face.

“Yeah. Sorry.” I moved away with my copies of the Twisted series and You Belong With Me to the billing department.

As I came out of the bookstore, I texted Aarvi, forwarding the image of the books I had sent to Advika.

Me:
I bought these four books as hardcovers. Don't tell Advika that I bought these.
P.S.: Shall we meet after college? I need to propose a plan to you. For her birthday.

Aarvi:
Okay. Meet me at 5.

Below was a location pin of a coffee shop near Aarvi's university.

***

TWO HOURS LATER…

“Hey, Aarvi!” I waved at Aarvi, who slumped in her seat and looked around the café aimlessly, and sat opposite her. “So, did you order something?”

“Not yet. Waiting for you to come.” She pushed the menu card towards me and opened it for me. “What was the plan?”

“I have a few questions. Could you please answer it for me?” I requested, scanning for good food through the menu card while looking up and seeing her nodding a yes. “Good. One: What is this place called The Ahluwalia's Abode?”

After stalking (yes, real stalking) Advika and Aarvi's joint Bookstagram account, kitabiphilics, I found a reel where Advika ranted that despite being in Delhi for three years, she had never been to that bookstore (which was a great disgrace to her).

“Dude.” Her mouth went O at the mention of the bookstore and let out a surprised chuckle. “You have no idea how amazing that place is. It's Disneyland for us book lovers. It's the G.O.A.T. of aesthetics. I mean…” She gave up talking and propped her head against the table, whining, “You have no idea about that, dude. I have always wanted to take Advika there, but it was either that she's busy, or I'm busy, or both of us are busy, or both of us are too lazy to go there.”

“Oh! Cool.” Taking time to bring the second question to the tip of my tongue, I asked, “Two: What about her favourite food?”

Sighing as if I asked the most inappropriate question, she asked, “I'm sure she must have said that Italian cuisine is her favourite, right?” Surprised at her knowledge, I nodded a yes while she let out a mocking chuckle. “That girl says this to everyone. But… Trust me, she's a hardcore Desi Girl by heart. And… No one would love butter naan and paneer tikka the way she does. Oh, also a grilled chicken breast from the restaurant near our house would be a cherry on the cake for sure.”

“Wow! That sounds so good! Also…” I pause to take my mobile out of the pocket and search for a particular video. As I found it after half a minute, I asked, “Could you please teach me this? I need your help,” play the video, and showed the mobile screen to her.

She carried my mobile in her hands, and fifteen seconds later, she paused it and said, “Only the accent?” I nodded a yes, enough with what she was offering me. “Okay. I'll teach you. Get a printout of its lyrics and… Let's catch up tomorrow. Same time, same place. We have only four days, so we must hurry up. Okay?”

“Yes, Chief!” I saluted like a diligent militant and shot a toothy grin, my heart racing and stomach releasing a zoo of butterflies at the thought of making it a best birthday for my best woman in the universe of universes.

***

Finally... Harsh is out of Advika's life, peeps! *standing ovation*

If you're asking, "What could go worse now?" Wait. I'm not done yet. *devilish smirk*