Was he really in love?
By this time, if you have read the previous parts, it won’t come as a surprise if I tell you that this story has a fictional blend twisted with utterly real moments. It is amazing how one can learn from his partner. They hadn’t labelled their relationship as ‘The Relationship’. Neither did they try too hard to act otherwise. Like a tie complements a suit, both of them filled in the gaps just enough to deem them inseparable. It was like the poles of two magnets, which had been long kept apart, were reunited and aligned in the right direction. It was a pitch perfect match.
If Karan had expected anything from his life, it wasn’t this. Krutika was the one distraction he could never overlook. His impetuosity was replaced with careful contemplation over things. Everything was linked with her. He knew he had to keep calm. Not every day an Engineer realises the practical importance of the infinite solutions when two lives superimpose each other’s. His day began with a greeting and never ended unless she wanted it to. At times, he would call her up for an evening walk. Always keeping a safe distance from his dad’s medical store, they would stroll the busy streets, inconspicuous of the people around them. With their fingers locked in, they were oblivious to the world. What mattered wasn’t ‘The Relationship’ but the real time interaction they shared. Their chemistry was impeccable. If you think it was materialistic, you would be wrong. Absolutely wrong!
They had a mutual understanding of their future. A unique one! Neither of them inherited idealism as good as either of their parents. They were self-proclaimed mavericks who had found the right extent of freedom in each other. If someone exploited it, the partner would keep him in check. It was a fail proof strategy.
Now that you know what their ‘relationship’ over the span of two months was like, I would switch back to first person and describe it in his own words.
‘I was infatuated. Or maybe struck by the charisma of her unadorned love. Oh wait! It was too mawkish to be called ‘love’. What would you call it?
When she quit all the work to tie her tufts of hair in a bun, my heart would skip a beat. An involuntary smile would stretch across my cheeks, crooked but happy. And then it slowly recedes like waves from the shore, relenting to nature’s call. I was drawn towards her like an insect attracted towards heat. During class, I just used to stare at her unflinchingly calm disposition. Then she would look back, as if convection just made air her bitch.
She exerted an invisible force upon me and I was happy to comply until I saw her that Sunday afternoon.’