Written in the Stars

by Divya Anand

  Every. Single. Time.

  It was uncanny.

  ‘How is it possible that every day that’s good for his career is also good for romance,’ I muttered as I skimmed through the app.

  ‘Maybe some things really are written in the stars,’ Kavya offered.

  I couldn’t hold back a smile.

  ‘But this also says I can’t trust he’ll be with me for me. It’s all just the horoscope,’ I said, my argument sounding hollow to my own ears.

  ‘But you don’t believe in horoscopes,’ Kavya argued. ‘This is just a coincidence. Your idea was good, and so your project came this far. And through the project you got to know each other, and he really likes you.’

  It was tempting to believe the horoscope had nothing to do with anything that had happened. For a second, I really wanted to believe it. But I stopped myself.

  I knew better.

  Kavya stood up and walked to the balcony.

  ‘Aren’t you going to work?’ she asked, as I placed the empty bowl on the coffee table. I went back to lying on the couch.

  ‘I’m sick,’ I replied, as I threw in a fake cough for effect.

  She raised an eyebrow and busied herself with filling the watering can.

  ‘Well, look at it this way. At least your project is going well,’ she said.

  ‘We still don’t know if I’m getting the promotion,’ I said. ‘After all that’s happened, if that slimy Dhruv gets it, I might have to quit immediately.’

  ‘It’s lovely to see you’re not as competitive as you were,’ Kavya said seriously. ‘How’s the Calm app working for you?’

  I had deleted the app about five minutes after I had installed it, but hadn’t told anyone that. I picked up my book. Reading about Mia discovering her alternate reality was infinitely better than contemplating the future of my own.

  ‘Listen,’ Kavya said, pulling the book out of my hands. ‘I think you need some cheering up. Go water the plants,’ she said, handing me the watering can.

  Normally, I would’ve argued, but I was too tired. Maybe staring at some greenery would be good for me. After all, the Japanese swear by forest bathing to reduce stress levels. Not that our balcony garden would qualify as a forest, even though we had some plants that were trying to burst out of their pots and take over the entire space. I stepped out into the balcony and began listlessly watering our hibiscus plant.

  ‘Did you see how much the dragon fruit has grown?’ Kavya asked. Our dragon fruit was slightly wild. It had grown well out of its pot and was perpetually trying to create a bridge between our apartment and the one opposite. Sometimes, I wondered if it was attempting to meet a friend on the other side.

  I looked at the thorny stalk and gasped.

  I blinked a few times to make sure I wasn’t seeing things.

  I wasn’t.

  Someone was standing right below our balcony with a giant sign in their hand.

  Abhimanyu.

  The sign said, simply, ‘Sitara, let’s talk.’

  My heart was hammering so hard in my chest that I thought I was having a heart attack. But I didn’t trust myself to speak to him.

  He moved the sign out of sight to show me the next one.

  ‘I love everything about you.’

  That got my goat.

  ‘What do you even know about me,’ I yelled, throwing caution to the winds. I couldn’t fall for this cutesy move, straight out of a romcom playbook.

  ‘I know you scrunch up your nose when you think. I know you love dark chocolate and hate nuts in your chocolate. I know you’d never admit it, but you’re probably re-reading The Princess Diaries right now. I know you are the most competitive person I’ve ever met and also the most loyal . . . ’

  I stared at him in shock. He was right about every one of those things.

  He moved on to the next sign.

  ‘With some luck, we will be together before the end of this year’

  ‘I will give up astrology for you. And vaastu, too’

  ‘I like you for you, and the things you do’

  ‘I love you!’

  I felt like my face would split into two, from how widely I was smiling.

  ‘Come up,’ I yelled. Some of my neighbours seemed to be enjoying this show a little too much, and I didn’t want to have any more of this conversation in public.

  I had also spotted Kavya walking out towards the gate just as Abhimanyu was finishing up with his signs. She’d winked and waved at me from a distance, so I suspected the suggestion I water the plants wasn’t as innocent as it seemed.

  ‘Does that mean I’m forgiven?’ he yelled.

  ‘Well, I can’t forgive you for that terrible attempt at poetry . . . ’ I winked.

  ‘Sitara!’

  ‘YES! Yes, you’re forgiven.’ Some smart alec decided to start clapping. This was definitely a far more interesting morning than most in our society. I waved at Abhimanyu to come upstairs. As he moved out of sight, there was a loud groan.

  ‘Go watch TV,’ I yelled, before I headed back into the house.

  A few minutes later my doorbell rang. I opened the door, and there he was, clutching his signs to his chest. Now that he was here, I felt almost shy. He stepped in and closed the door.

  ‘You’re terrible at rhymes,’ I said again, weakly attempting to make a joke.

  He stepped closer to me, ignoring the nonsense coming out of my mouth, and gently moved a stray curl behind my ear.

  I shivered.

  ‘There’s something I’ve been wanting to do since the first time I saw you,’ he said.

  My heart did flip-flops. Before I could ask him why anyone would want to do anything with a person who called them a dick, he pulled me close.

  I had goosebumps all over and my neck began to grow warm. The tips of my ears and the back of my neck were on fire.

  Gently, he tipped my chin, bent down and kissed me.

  It was the perfect kiss—not too pushy, but full of intent. My legs turned to jelly. Initially, I was shy and awkward, and a bit stiff. Within seconds, I found myself responding. And how. If I were Mia, one leg would be up in the air right now signifying just how perfect the kiss was.

  He pulled back a little, looked into my eyes and moved in to kiss me again, unhurriedly, as if we had been kissing for ages. I had been kissed before, but never like this.

  This felt different, and yet so comfortable.

  It felt so . . . right.

  He broke off again. We stared at each other, our chests rising and falling, breathing heavily.

  ‘And now you know,’ he grinned.

  I blushed.

  With that, I could no longer insist that Abhimanyu was just a colleague or even a friend. With this kiss, I had given in to a longing I didn’t know I could feel. I hadn’t felt this way ever—as though we were expressing something deep within that had built over the past days, weeks and months. I reached for him again, but he stopped me by placing a finger on my lips.

  ‘There’s one more thing I have to tell you,’ he said.

  I was breathing so hard that I couldn’t reply, so I just looked at him questioningly.

  ‘You and me, we fit. It isn’t about a horoscope, it isn’t about anything in the stars. There is one thing though . . . ’

  He put his arms around my waist, pulled me close, looked into my eyes and said, ‘I don’t know if you believe in soulmates, but I do. You’re mine.’

  27

  Good Understanding Makes for a Pleasurable Relationship

  The next morning, I woke up in a happy daze even though I had forgotten to remove my contacts and they were now sticking to my eyeballs. I went into the dining area and saw Abhimanyu pottering about in the kitchen. I blinked to make sure I wasn’t seeing things.

  ‘Good morning,’ he said, in a voice which was too cheerful for the morning.

  I wondered how to tell him I wasn’t a good conversationalist until I’d had my first jolt of caffeine. Even the glow of the morning after hadn’
t transformed me into someone who was ready to talk so early in the day. He silently held out a cup of chai. It looked like it had been exactly tailored to my over-milky specifications, and he’d even managed to locate my favourite Alice in Wonderland mug.

  So this was what it felt like to meet the perfect man. I took a sip and closed my eyes. If heaven existed, I had stumbled into it.

  ‘By the way, we have breakfast too,’ he said. ‘I went out and got some croissants and I’ve also made omelettes.’

  ‘Would you mind staying forever?’ I said. It had been a while since I started my weekend with anything except a packet of chips as breakfast.

  He laughed and leaned forward to kiss me.

  ‘I think we still have some unfinished business,’ I said when the kiss ended.

  And with that, all thoughts of breakfast were abandoned for a while.

  Later that morning, we finally dragged ourselves out of the apartment. It took us a while as we kept getting distracted. I had planned to check out an exhibition that was happening nearby, and I talked Abhimanyu into accompanying me. I figured we could use some fresh air and sunlight.

  The exhibition was in an open-air stadium and was focused on handicrafts from around the country. It was lined with dozens of stalls, displaying everything from kitchenware to home accessories to clothes. The entire place was very festive and filled with the typical Bangalore crowd that attended such events. Ladies in handloom and chunky jewellery, teenagers who were there for the evening music and food, all carrying their own bags for their purchases so they could avoid using plastic.

  ‘So, should we get something to eat?’ Abhimanyu asked as soon as we entered. He gestured toward the corner at the back where there was a cluster of food stalls, next to an open-air dining area.

  ‘We just got here,’ I laughed. ‘Don’t you want to see the stalls?’

  ‘I’m not really into shopping,’ he said. ‘But I am willing to watch you shop if you promise to feed me at regular intervals.’

  ‘In that case, let’s start with some chaat,’ I said and began walking towards the food stalls.

  ‘Bangalore is obsessed with putting carrots into its chaat and that does not qualify,’ he insisted. He pointed at a stall advertising millet-based delicacies ranging from biryanis to halwa. ‘This looks like something I haven’t tried!’

  I scrunched my nose in mock disgust.

  Of course, the man zeroed in on the most healthy food stall there was in the entire place. Why bother with chaat, rolls or ice cream when one could eat millet biryani. Sometimes, I wondered if he ever ate anything unhealthy.

  I asked him about it as we stood in the surprisingly long line in front of the stall. He insisted he did eat unhealthy food and that I just wasn’t around to see it. I had my doubts, especially since I’ve never seen him eat anything that was even mildly unhealthy. However, he insisted he did indulge ‘on occasion’.

  ‘Life is too short to waste it on eating millets,’ I insisted, as I attempted to convince him this was an ‘occasion’ that warranted a cheat day.

  ‘You’re the weirdest and cutest person I’ve ever met,’ he declared as he put his arm around me.

  ‘I try,’ I grinned as we got to the front of the line. I ordered a millet dosa. Of all the options, it looked like the most interesting. I planned to follow it up with an ice-cream sundae for dessert. In order to prove he did eat ‘unhealthy’, Abhimanyu ordered the millet sweet pongal. We looked around for a bit and managed to snag a table. We ate our food in companionable silence as I people-watched in that happy daze that came from spending time with someone you wanted to be with for a long time and discovering that the real deal was better than anything you imagined.

  ‘So, how come you’re named Sitara,’ he broke into my thoughts. ‘It’s not a common name in the south, is it?’

  ‘You have my sister to thank,’ I laughed. ‘She insisted on naming me and at the time, her favourite rhyme was . . . ’

  ‘Twinkle, twinkle little star,’ he guessed.

  ‘Yes. She actually wanted to name me Twinkle,’ I said as his eyes widened. ‘Thankfully, my parents intervened and convinced her they would find a word that meant star instead.’

  ‘Twinkle Srinivasan,’ he mused. ‘You would’ve created quite a stir with that name!’

  ‘It’s a good thing she wasn’t given free rein with my name, given what she’s done to her kids . . . ’ I stopped mid-sentence as I saw Abhimanyu staring at me with a completely dazed expression on his face.

  I wondered if he was still listening to me.

  He blushed.

  ‘I’m sorry, I was distracted and lost track of what you were saying,’ he said, as he continued to stare at my mouth.

  ‘I guess you didn’t want such a long explanation for my name . . . ’

  ‘No! The problem is, you start talking and then I start looking into your eyes, but your mouth starts to distract me,’ he said. He leaned forward and grabbed my hand. ‘Do you think you can abandon shopping? I’ll make it up to you.’

  I laughed and stood up.

  ‘Yes,’ I said.

  ‘No way! You can’t stop by saying we kissed, fade to black, end credits. We need details!’

  After our attempt at going outside on Saturday morning, we hadn’t tried stepping out again that weekend. Abhimanyu finally left at noon on Sunday because we agreed we needed to get our chores done. Kavya came waltzing home almost as soon as he left, further driving up my suspicions that the two were in cahoots. She then convinced me to go for an evening walk at Agara Lake Park with her, Upasana and Shirin.

  Of course, it took all of five minutes before she blurted out to the others that ‘Sitara has been, ahem, busy with Abhimanyu all weekend’.

  I went blue in the face insisting we hadn’t spent all our time in the apartment but they refused to believe me. I was told that ‘pics or it didn’t happen’, and since I stupidly didn’t click even a single selfie with Abhimanyu at the exhibition, it didn’t help. I showed them one that I had clicked just before we left for the exhibition, but they insisted getting dressed didn’t mean we had actually stepped out of the apartment.

  When I insisted yet again we had gone out, Shirin spat her coffee back into the cup as she laughed out loud.

  Upasana straightened her stole, trying to look as calm and collected as always, but struggling to keep the smirk off her face.

  ‘Details, Sitara,’ Kavya insisted.

  ‘It was . . . good,’ I said, wondering how I could change the subject. It didn’t matter what I said, my face was flushed, and I knew I had that faraway, love-struck look in my eyes. ‘Actually, it was better than good . . . ’

  ‘Ooh . . . ’ said Shirin, doing a little hop and skip.

  ‘He looked really tired when he left. Probably from the exertion,’ said Kavya.

  The cheek!

  The three of them stared at me and then burst out laughing. I covered my face with my hands. It had been an intense combination of something that was completely overwhelming but also really straightforward. I hadn’t expected just how I would end up feeling. I couldn’t keep the dazed smile off my face.

  ‘Oh my God, you’ve really fallen for him,’ Kavya broke into my thoughts.

  ‘Didn’t you see that photo?’ Upasana said. ‘They both look completely love-struck!’

  ‘He did say he’s fallen for me too . . . ’

  ‘Well, of course. You’re irresistible,’ Kavya smiled. ‘But remember, don’t go too fast. I don’t want you to show up home one fine day saying you’re eloping Madhavan and Shalini style and need me for witness signatures.’

  On cue, Upasana and Shirin began humming Mangalyam Tantunanena.

  ‘As if!’

  When we got home after the walk, Kavya cornered me as I was making some lemonade to rehydrate. ‘You have to delete the app.’

  I was only partially listening, so I didn’t register what she was saying. I was too preoccupied with thoughts of my upcoming presentation. T
omorrow was our final meeting with Ash, and I had a bunch of things to fix. I had decided to spend Sunday evening working on it, and had told Abhimanyu we couldn’t meet that night. He had agreed, and said he would take me to dinner tomorrow.

  ‘You can cheer me up if the meeting sucks, and we’ll celebrate if it all works out,’ I’d teased.

  ‘Well, I don’t think it will suck. So it’s going to be a celebration,’ he insisted.

  Kavya poked me in my arm.

  ‘Ouch!’ I rubbed my arm. She was clearly mad at me because I’d been lost in thought and hadn’t been paying attention to whatever she was saying. I handed her a glass of the juice and then poured myself one. I took my glass and walked over to the couch, so I could open my laptop and begin to work.

  She followed me, and perched on the chair opposite the couch.

  ‘Sitara, you have to delete it,’ she repeated. She took a sip of the lemonade and then bent down to fish out the container of sugar she kept on the bottom shelf of our coffee table. She added two heaped spoonfuls to her drink.

  ‘What are you talking about,’ I said. I was having trouble focusing. My mind was a jumble of work-related anxiety and some not-safe-for-work thoughts about Abhimanyu.

  ‘That horoscope app. You can’t keep using it, you know it isn’t really responsible for things going well with your project. Or your relationship, for that matter!’

  ‘I’m not completely convinced my project would’ve got this far if I hadn’t followed Abhimanyu’s horoscope,’ I said. ‘But you’re right. The project is almost over and I no longer need it.’

  She glared at me.

  ‘OK fine. I no longer need it because I don’t care about the promotion. For now, I don’t want to jeopardize my relationship with him,’ I admitted.

  She took a long sip of the lemonade and then looked around for a clutch. She put up her hair and then looked at me.

  ‘Man, you really hate it when I’m right,’ she said. ‘Anyway, I had reserved the right to say I told you so, so . . . ’

  Ugh.