Aadi - Story 2

He saw her for the first time when she was 10 years old. Fat and dull- he thought. The only thing that made him go to her house to play was the fact her mother was an excellent cook and a doting aunty who insisted on feeding him goodies every time he came. Two years later he moved to Kanpur and they expectantly lost touch.

An engineering degree, lots of daru-bazi, plenty of crushes, a short secret fling, and a large circle of friends later he found himself in Mumbai. This time when they met he was 26. He almost didn’t go for the first meeting.

“Hi Aadi, how are you? This is Neha ..neha agarwal..dilli se.. pehchana. I got your number from aunty. I have also just moved to Mumbai. Though it would be nice to meet once. Are you free this weekend?”

Neha Agrawal– arrey woh moti. Sheessh. Saala pehle toh koi ladki phone nahin karti aur agar phone aata hai to iss moti ka! But he realized that his roomie was listening so in his most cocky voice he drawled “Neeeeha. Kaisi ho! Offfcourse yaar I remember you. How is aunty? I still miss her cooking. (he he) Haan Haan lets meet up this weekend. How about Barista near….”

So thanks to Abhi and his habit of listening to every conversation Aadi had, Aadi found himself at Barista at the designated time. When she walked in – his heart skipped a beat. Well it couldn’t really otherwise he would have collapsed but to him it felt like it did. Secretly reading Barbara Cartland and M&B makes you acutely aware of these sensations.

They hit it off from the first moment. Actually she thought he was a okay types (as she later told her friend) and a loud talker. But as for him the first meeting was the sign from above - sign that she was ‘IT’. Bas, lets just say he was hooked from the word ‘Go’. They kept meeting regularly for the next two years and he never once mentioned his feelings to her. She was involved with some one else. And while she was falling out of love with the guy he would never meet, his feelings for her were reaching their crescendo.

To make things bearable he decided to write to her. A letter for every day. All the passion that you would never associate with someone so analytical in his work found its way into those letters. 365 letters later he was told that she had split with her guy. But this didn’t make things any easy for him. For post that tempestuous relationship she was (as she put it) “off men”. All her conversations were now dark and brooding.

One evening he couldn’t hold it in any longer. He confessed. He confessed his love, his feelings for her, the fact that he thought of her before going to sleep and that it was with her thought that he woke up. Of the letters he had written, the future plans he had made. Of how he thought they would be the happiest together and how this was what was the best thing that could happen to both of them. She listened silently to the long speech. A strange mix of emotions were present – he had started with passion and love; briefly he was angry at her silence; then came the pleading and the tears and finally desperation.

Why is it that two people in the same relationship sometimes can never view it with the same lens? She never understood his passion. His next one year was spent in thinking of ways to convince her, to make her realize that she was wrong, that they were meant to be. As firmer her Nos became, the more hopeless in love was he.

He became quiet, sullen and bad tempered. His friends noticed the change. His mother too. To make it worse the rishtas had started coming for the both of them. Both refused but for entirely different reasons. And one day she dropped the bombshell. “Im going2 US. Its 4 the bst. Sorry for all this mess Aadi. Plz b hppy.” read the sms.

He met her the day she was leaving. He gave her the half hug you can give a female friend in India and pressed a parcel into her hand. “Something to read on the flight”, he said. He waited for a month for her to reply.

Those letters. They were his last hope. If she didn’t get them, nothing would ever convince her. A week passed with no word. She must be settling in. Another passed. New job hai, she must be tied up. Another week went by. He grew impatient and finally a month later he called. They had their first international fight. He accused her of being insensitive and escapist, trapped in her past. She countered that he was cruel and hurtful. Many words later, he found out she had never finished reading the letters. His heart finally broke with that realization. And he hung up.

Lets be friends, she said in the end. “un huh” was all he could manage.

The next day he quit his job and a week later moved to Hyderabad, A change of air would do me good was the thought. At 30, he was now no longer the man he was before. She had changed him. But as they say the worst was yet to come. New place, new office, new people. Six months into the city, he met Sumi. She was his apprentice- mentee in the organizational parlance. She was funny and cute. Didn’t make his heart stop as Neha but time did fly by quickly when he was with her. Within an year they decided to marry.

Three years later Mr. and Mrs. Aadi Malhotra found themselves back in Delhi. Three years of marriage make you realise how overrated companionship is. Both of them were getting tired of each other. Sumi felt that Aadi never paid her enough attention. He was aloof at times. Watched way too much football and had loud gross friends. Aadi's defence always was: Its soccer not football first of all. Friends' loudness and grossity werenot for her to judge and will she please learn to cook something atleast.

Their bickering was growing worse day by day. And then one day, she arrived. A simple facebook message : Aadi, Its been a long time. Am in India for a week. Can we meet? Will understand if you say no.

To be accurate Aadi's first response was to say: NO. But as he was typing the 'O' he heard Sumi in the kitchen say: phir TV laga liya. Pata nahin kitna TV dekhte hain. office se aaye nahin ki match shuru. Iss football se toh main tang a agayi hoon. Aadi quickly pressed backspace and wrote: Sure. Am in delhi. Tell me when and where.

They met at the old Barista. Aadi and Neha. It was like she had never left. "I am sorry aadi. I never responded to those letters but I wanted to be sure of my feelings for you. Your love scared me Aadi and I felt I wasn't ready for it. I just wanted to tell you that.And yes also that I love you."

For once Aadi was dumbstuck. He had no idea what to say. She looked stunning and kissable. And after 2 minutes of not so pious thoughts, he remembered he had a wife at home. "I am married now Neha"

"I know Aadi. I know. For the past few months I have been replying to those letters you wrote all 365 of them. I just wanted you to have the replies. Here. Goodbye." She left. Aadi watched her go. His eyes followed her till she sat in the taxi and then he sat looking at the parcel.

He opened it. Her perfume hit him. He sat there for 3 hours going through her work. She wasn't a good writer. (Nobody writes as well as I do. He smiled.) But she did manage to put her point across. And that point was simple: She wanted him back.

He left her letters in the car. On returning home, he ate dinner quietly and then sat staring at his laptoop wondering what to do.