Dates stress me more than anything in this world. I think the whole procedure to date and know the other person is just tiring that yields no fruitful outcome. As per my estimation, half of the people who “date” want their sex life active. And some try to find the true meaning of love which I think is funny. I am Sandeep Firdosh and apparently, I’m 37. We can agree that I have witnessed more people, compared to those who have just finished college, succeed, and fail when it comes to dating and everything related to it. What is dating to you? Most answers although, are cliché that we hear from actors in the movies and on TV serials. The whole system gains an artificial take on relationships and dating after watching content on the internet or the theatres. Perception plays the most crucial role when it comes to shaping the character of any person.

You might already have a perception about me after reading just a paragraph of what I believe in. That’s exactly what I’m saying. Although, I don’t have anything else to do or say as I’m waiting for my date in a secluded cafe with magical low-bright lighting and aesthetic as well as an intricate interior that just sets the mood right. Surprised, right? One moment I say dates stress me and the next moment I seem to be waiting for one. Yeah, folks, life is indeed confusing. Also, if it isn’t yet clear to you, I like humor. I have been here for five minutes and that is the longest I have ever waited for someone let alone a date. I am planning to leave if she isn’t here within five more minutes. Thoughts spiral in my mind as I think about how to behave when she arrives and so forth. Should I be polite and humble or should I just be myself on the first date? After all these years, this question still bugs me every time. A quick puff wouldn’t hurt until she comes, I think. But as soon as I get up, a beautiful brunette announces her entrance as the staff and I are watching patiently. Oh, I forgot to tell you guys that this is a blind date set by my colleague, Azhar so I don’t know if that gorgeous lady that entered a moment ago is my date or not. I canceled my stupid plans of smoking a cigarette and sat there, deliberately trying to ignore her so that she approaches me in the rarest case that she is the one.

The distance between both of us is continuously decreasing as she comes closer to the table and asks,

“Hello, are you Sandeep? Azhar’s friend and colleague?”

I replied by saying, “Yes, indeed. I have not been waiting for you at all.”

Why did I say that? My chances with such a pretty woman are getting even narrower than they were before.

“Well, I deserve the sarcasm for getting here late but you know how traffic in Surat is, right?”

“I did not..... Well, yeah. It stresses me so much.”

I now have to control myself from saying anything stupid so I go along with the flow.

“What do you do, Muskan?”

“I work as a Senior HR Manager at the head branch of GTS in the city.”

“That’s quite impressive, to be honest.”

“Yeah, kind of. Although, I love to write poems when I’m free.”

“You’re just setting the bar higher after each statement, I guess.”

Her smile turned into a grin as I said that. We both stare at each other as she breaks the silence by saying,

“So, enough about me. I know where you work which is not important to me. Do you like what you are doing with your life? Also, what is that one thing that you love to do when you have no one to care about?”

I am not going to lie as she caught my attention by asking those questions and I have to admit that she really is smart and sensitive at the same time.

“I enjoy watching basketball and football while analyzing the statistics in-depth for the same. Nothing gives me more joy. I don’t exactly love what I’m doing for work but I guess that keeps me going and doing something is better than sitting idle.”

Her gloomy, dark brown eyes stared into mine which I did not mind at all. It is just a little new to me as I haven’t been on a date for ages. Before we could talk about anything else, the table attendant interrupted politely, doing his duty by asking us what we would like to order. I ordered my personal favorite, The French Press and she ordered a Latte for herself. To all those reading, your choice of coffee or any beverage tells a lot about your personality. Anyway, the attendant goes away and there is an awkward moment between the two of us. I don’t know how to continue the conversation but I think of trying with exploring random subjects so I ask,

“Do you like hanging out with friends or do you like to stay alone on weekends?”

“I prefer staying alone and ordering food to avoid going out much.”

“That’s charming I must say. Avoiding unnecessary pressure by meeting people, getting dressed, and fulfilling expectations isn’t my strong suit too.”

I am glad I said that as I can see her get in her comfort zone. 

“Are you like this with every girl? How often do you go on blind dates?” she asked.

“Surprisingly, I haven’t dated anyone for many years. And I forgot to tell you before how beautiful you’re looking today.”

“Enough with the flattery,” she said while trying to hide the blush on her face.

As the table attendant was serving our order, I tried to look at Muskan through the gaps created by the hands of the attendant. She said she wanted to go to the washroom and would be back in five. Unlike most of the women I have met, she did not ask me about my past or my work portfolio. She is actually interested in who I am and what I like which I find unique as well as comforting. Comforting? Coming out of my own mouth? Seems strange and alarming but accurate as well. Just as I was lost in thoughts and ideas, I did not realize that she was back and calling my name so I blurted out of my imagination bubble and asked her to forgive me for being distracted.

 Lifting our cups, we started sipping the piping hot coffee. Just as I put mine down, I realized I was looking into the darkness of my coffee. It felt like I had a void deep inside my mind, a question unanswered that awaited my presence or required me to be the witness of something unmentionable. I couldn’t possibly think about anything happening in my present. Suddenly, within a moment of brutal hardship to demystify the thing that bugged me constantly, I took myself fifteen years back to my college days without my own permission.

College days were the happiest days of my life as I made a couple of friends during my time at the University of Dehradun. Believe me, I never had a true friend before, mostly because my father’s company required him to lead teams of marketing in different regions of the country. I was a funny individual who did not get well with groups because of anxiety and discomfort. I was always more interested in sitting and eating alone, observing everyone, and especially the nature around me. Dehradun doesn’t disappoint you if you are into nature. I was born in Delhi and raised in different parts of the country like Ahmedabad, Vijayawada, Mumbai, Bhopal, and Ranchi before I chose the University of Dehradun for my Bachelor’s degree program in Sales and Marketing.

I was always the “go with the flow” kind of a guy when it came to dating. In the second year of my program, I dated around 2-3 girls before I met the girl of my dreams in the final year. She was so beautiful that I couldn’t even open my mouth properly in front of her when we met. She liked me because I was sarcastic and funny and I liked her because.... because she was one of a kind. I knew my words would screw up what we had as she couldn’t tolerate me and my comments after a few dates. She ignored me for the rest of the year like I was some kind of a movie villain. I kind of liked that because let’s face it, villains are so underrated.

Enough with the chit-chat, I met a girl who was as funny as I was, in person. We immediately hit it off and knew that we were made for each other. In those days, I was a real hustler when it came to college assignments and writing fiction. She admired my personality and liked me for who I actually was rather than trying to shape me into someone that she thought of to be the perfect fit for her. I reciprocated and we dated for around four years before we thought of marrying each other.

Our wedding was weirdly beautiful as people from so many places attended it. It was a mixture of cultures into one big tank and everyone just appreciated it. She was from Karnataka and had all her relatives based in South India whereas my family and relatives were mostly from the North and East part of the country. It was a fest as people tried to blend in with each other, asking stupid yet cute questions, dancing, singing, and most importantly eating multi-cuisine food that covered all diversities. Basically, it was a dream wedding.

I always imagined how my life could be so perfect in every sense possible. I had a good job that paid me well, the most amazing wife who worked for a company she loved, supportive parents, and a room full of books. But as they say, “Calm before the storm” was dangerous as I eventually lost my parents in a road accident when I was 29. I had to learn so much from my dad who was a great leader, I had to sleep so many times more in my mother’s lap, I had so many questions in my mind like, “Should I have lived together to avoid this tragedy?” “I could have given them a ride if I stayed with them.” “What will I do without them?” 

“Life is strange as it makes you happy in a moment and breaks you from within in another.” I did not imagine my future without my parents. Gradually, I started to drink all day to fulfill my parents’ vacancy in my mind. I knew I had a beautiful wife who expected great things from me and most importantly, from us. She understood at first that I had developed this habit because I was low but she was so worried sometimes that she cried. I knew that I was the one who was guilty as I had never seen her cry like this, again and again, every day. I tried to stop consuming liquor but then I thought I had so much money that I should spend wherever I want. That was not the real reason. I made it up to convince her. 

We started to fight more which resulted in terrifying screams, thrown vessels, and increased detachment. She was so afraid that she did not even tell her mother about our fights or anything else. On one bright Monday morning, our telephone rang and my wife, Kritika, received the call only to know that her only parent, her amazing mother, had died due to a heart attack. We traveled to Mangalore immediately and after finishing the rituals, we sat there in shock at her place.

“Sandeep, I cannot process all this together. My mother just died and you can’t stop drinking.” Tears rolled down her cheeks as she continued, “Please try to reduce it for me,” she said before breaking down completely in my arms.

“Kritika, hey, listen to me. I promise I will leave it from now onwards. In fact, I have a plan for the same. Let’s move to my parents’ house in Shimla.”

“Are you sure? Because I have no family left, Sandeep. All I have is you.”

“Yes, trust me on this. We’ll sell our property and start some small business there to keep ourselves busy. What do you say?”

“I love you, Sandeep. I know I haven’t said that for months now but I really mean it.”

“I love you too. We’re going to make this work,” I said assuring her confused eyes to have faith in our relationship.

In about three months, we sold off everything to move to Shimla after deciding to build an aesthetic cafe with the money we had. We started getting familiar with the place. We bought land and started building a cute little cafe which was going to take about a year to finish. Surprisingly, we started living like we did when we were younger. Days passed and we used to drive to some beautiful locations near Shimla to dwell into the beauty that North India offers.  

One day when I was having tea in the evening, Kritika came running to me and said, “You’re not going to believe this! Guess what happened?”

“Magically, our cafe is open for business, right?” I joked.

“No, idiot. We are having a baby! I’m pregnant, Sandeep,” she said. 

“Oh my god! This is so great!” As I said that I started to dance out of nowhere.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!”

“We are going to plan every little thing about our baby, Kriti.” 

After a few days, Kritika started reading some books for the unborn baby to elevate knowledge. I had nothing to do all day since Kritika took time for herself and the baby. I started to visit the construction site and chat with the workers to know more about the place. In fact, they made me taste some kind of local rum that they had during the winter season to keep themselves warm. I loved it from the very first sip so I started consuming it twice a week which eventually went to a 180 ml bottle every day.

Kritika sensed something was off and when she asked me I told her the truth without hiding any detail. She was majorly upset because we had a baby that was due in four months and I was on my ruined path, again. I had to be responsible. “Tasting and consuming daily are two different things,” she said every day to imbibe a sense of responsibility in me. Fights were in our routine but we had nowhere else to go except to each other.  

I tried controlling my desire for alcohol but the situation became even worse than it was. I decided to drink for the last time and then quit completely from the other day. That night when I drank for the last time, I felt the need to drink more because I was going to leave that habit. I couldn’t control myself and went straight to sleep after drinking more than I should have. 

The next morning when I woke up, my head was hurting way too much to understand a word that my wife was constantly blabbering. I wanted my coffee so I went straight into the kitchen, ignoring her and her rants about me and my stupid habit. I made myself exceedingly hot coffee to gain my senses back. I was just in my boxers and did not have any shirt on while I took a sip and put the cup near a wooden table before washing my face off. Kritika came closer and shouted at me for not listening to her. I was tired of her and that morning my headache was so strong that I said, “Go, fuck yourself. I don’t give a shit about you right now.”

I instantly regretted every word of it in my mind but as soon as I turned back to apologize, she threw the extremely hot coffee on me. I was in shock as she did that and the skin on her chest got burned by that in a second while I lost all my senses and threw the next thing that I got in my hands at her. Unfortunately, what I threw was a metal vase and she started bleeding vigorously alongside being unconscious. I panicked. Immediately, I checked her pulse and that was it. She was dead. With the unborn child.

I still do not have any explanation for what I did. No response should kill a person. I should have taken that coffee burn on my chest in some other kind of way. It was my fault, after all. I was scared to call the police or the ambulance. Our house had a backyard so I buried her there and eventually sold the house and the property where we were building the cafe in order to run away from that place. Whoever asked about her in Shimla was told that she ran away to Karnataka as she did not want to live with me. Little did they know that she wasn’t even alive.

I bought tickets to Surat and started a new journey altogether as it would bring a major change in my lifestyle. As I was thinking constantly about all these things, I got a nudge on my hand from Muskan. I stopped looking deep into my cup of coffee and glanced a look at her face as I lost track of time, again. I still don’t know if I’ll ever get over what happened.  

Calling her closer, I whisper, “Can you keep a secret?”