It has been about six months since I started searching for a perfect soulmate on various matrimony sites. So far, I have had conversations with almost fifteen girls and met one in person. She believed a French-style contract for a couple to live together for a few years was the ultimate "couple goal." Another girl was working at Ernst & Young and had been on matrimonial sites for the past two years. She said she was often ghosted by guys after chatting for five months, or they would turn into buddies for mutual corporate benefits, like company recommendations. I dropped that conversation.

The search continued, and all along, I have been looking for a partner who is good at communicating her thoughts and is emotionally available. Then, late one night, a request came from a Telugu girl named Janaki living in Santa Clara, California. (I did some data mining to get her exact location, though it might be incorrect). My eyes were leafing through her bio, which mentioned the two exact qualities I was seeking: good communication and emotional availability. Her profile picture was very simple, unlike the others I had generally encountered, and in that moment, I knew I had fallen for her.

I accepted her request and sent her a message thanking her for taking interest in my matrimony profile. I waited for her response, and around 3 a.m., I received her message in which she shared her contact number. I decided to message her at mid-morning.

She responded the next day, on Sunday. She asked me where I was staying, to which I replied, "Right now, I am in Milan. Where are you right now?" She didn’t respond to that question. Instead, she asked, "Are you Telugu?"

That question felt like a job interview, where I was a guy who knew Python and the interviewer suddenly asked if I knew Go programming language. It felt like a deciding question—one wrong answer and I would be out of the whole scenario.

I replied, "No, sorry. I am from North India, but I am learning Telugu. Most of my friends are from Hyderabad." I paused, knowing I might already be out of the scenario. Then I added, "Please let me know if you have any restrictions regarding this."

She responded after three minutes, "Hey, I was just asking you! You can try to learn Telugu, and it’s good for you."

After that, I told her that I had completed my bachelor’s degree in one of the southern states, and from there I developed an interest in South Indian movies. I asked her, "Since we are from different backgrounds, wouldn’t that be a problem for you?"

She replied, "Haha, yes, it is very different, but I think our combo is working out well."

I found her response quite straightforward, which I appreciated. I told her that I liked her approach of putting things on the table exactly as they are in her mind. She acknowledged that she shared the same belief.

She asked for my bio and photos, which I sent her. I thought of asking the same from her immediately, but I held back, as things between us were just getting started.

After texting her my bio data, I further asked her if she required any additional information about me. She replied, “It is enough for now. We’ll get to know each other better later. How was your weekend?”

During my actual weekend, I was running some atomistic modeling simulations for the additive manufacturing process and correcting the script for visualizing stress, which wasn’t working properly. By the end, my neurons felt depleted.

I replied to her, “It was quite good. How was yours? Any plans for tomorrow?”

She responded that she had just returned from a friend’s house and then asked, “Do you have any nickname?”

At that moment, my brain started to work like a vector database, where my various nicknames were stored as vector embeddings. My mother had given me the nickname Chuchu, but I had decided long ago never to reveal this to anyone. My Telugu senior friend—my first flatmate when I came to Milan—had nicknamed me Master, since whenever he came into my room either Master BGM was playing in the background or a movie was running on the other system. Both names felt weird, so I preferred not to reveal them.

I swiftly replied, “Not yet, to be frank. Do you have any? I can understand my name is complex.”

She told me, “You can call me Chitti.”

I immediately googled the meaning of the name because I remembered Chitti as the character played by Rajinikanth in the movie Robot. I found that her nickname meant something small or a cherished young person. I replied, “Okay, I will call you Chitti from now onwards.” She agreed.

I also texted her, “If you want, you can allot me a less complex nickname.” At that moment, I had a flashback to my high school days: during prize or certificate distributions, teachers often mispronounced my name as Akanksha. I always felt shy walking up in front of everyone, so I used to nod toward one of my classmates named Akanksha and then go collect my certificates.

She replied, “Hmmm, let’s see. What is the time there now?”

I answered, “It’s around 3:19 a.m.”

She asked, “Still awake?”

I replied, “I usually sleep around 4 a.m. It’s fine. What time is it there?”

She responded, “It’s 6:24 p.m. Until what time do you sleep?”

I answered, “I sleep till 8 a.m.”

The main reason I didn’t mention was that I had been a less caring and self-obsessed person until 2017. During my bachelor’s studies, I would only pick up calls from my parents or call them back once every 2–3 days. After graduation, I focused on clearing GATE exams and applying to foreign universities to pursue my master’s, since becoming a scientist was my ultimate goal at that time.

I received an offer letter from the University of Sheffield in Material Science and was also shortlisted for the MEXT fully funded scholarship to pursue my master’s in Japan. Around that time, I noticed my mother struggling to walk properly and developing black spots on her legs. I informed my father, and they went to the hospital. After several diagnoses, we learned that she had a chance of developing cancer. The root cause was a clot in her spine that had formed years earlier after she fell from an auto-rickshaw, injuring that region.

After this, I decided to stay back in India to be with her and started working as a Research Associate at one of the NITs in South India. From that time onwards, I began sleeping only a few hours a night, as I had promised my mother that I would become one of the best scientists in the world and make sure people would know my name.

It was in 2013, a reunion party was organized by Juhi, my childhood friend and classmate till high school, three years after we had graduated from class tenth. I was picked up by my best friend, and we hurried towards Juhi's home, which was quite near to mine, on his scooty. We entered the hall with chips packets and cold drink bottles, where our old-school friends had already arrived and were slouching on the sofa and chairs. Being a bit of an introvert, I sat down quietly after smiling and nodding at everyone.

Then I saw her sitting in front of me—the girl whose face was glowing like the moon surrounded by utter darkness in the sky. Roshni had just broken up with her ex-boyfriend, who had created a fake Facebook account in her name, liked erotic pages, and kept the profile public. I had also received a message from that account when I was in my room in Kota, Rajasthan, preparing for the JEE exam. The message said, “I love you.” My overthinking brain quickly processed that the account was either fake or hacked, as Roshni was one of the shyest and most silent girls in school—someone who would cry in front of everyone if any inconvenience occurred. We had never spoken to each other in any form until we passed out of high school.

Seeing her after three years, she looked so different from the version I remembered. She seemed confident, charming, and more beautiful with her open hair. I couldn’t take my eyes off her until the reunion party was over. After everyone left, I asked Juhi whether Roshni was single or still committed. She laughed and replied, “I have no idea, but don’t worry, I’ll ask her and let you know.” I smiled, bid farewell, and headed home. That night, after dinner, I scrolled through Roshni’s Facebook account and sent her a friend request.

She accepted it the next morning. Though I was an introvert, this time I decided to take the extrovert’s role by initiating the conversation. I typed “Hi” on my Nokia phone’s keypad, the one my parents had given me after high school when I left home. I pressed send with zero expectation of receiving a reply. At that time, I was packing my stuff, as I had to leave for college in Chennai in a month. My counseling was done, and I had chosen Mechanical Engineering to pursue.

That night my mother cooked aloo parathas, my favorite dish to this day. After stuffing myself with five of them, I lay down on my bed and saw a notification—Roshni had replied: “Hi, how are you?” Without hesitation, I wrote back, “Hi! I’m doing well. How is your medical exam preparation going?” That was how our conversation began. Talking to her felt like starting to watch Game of Thrones—I was instantly addicted. I didn’t want any spoilers about her past because I have the curse of an eidetic memory.

As time went by, our conversations grew deeper. One day, I proposed to her on Facebook Messenger. My heartbeat shot up, I could feel the blood rushing to my brain and through my veins. She saw the message and replied after ten minutes, saying she had just come out of a toxic relationship and wanted to focus on her career. It was the second rejection I had faced in my life. The first one was from my class ten crush—let’s call her Pradhaan Ji—who was pursuing an integrated bachelor’s degree at BITS Pilani. She rejected me because she had a crush on another guy, who later married someone else as he was much older.

A few days later, I was about to leave home to catch the Rapti Sagar Express from my hometown to Chennai—a 40-hour journey. I wanted to message Roshni one last time to confirm where we stood. Nowadays, people would call it a “situationship.” I typed:

“Answer this MCQ. Only one option is correct.
Q: Are you in love with me?
a) Yes
b) Option A is correct
c) Option B is correct
d) All of the above”

She replied with a laughing emoji, saying there was a printing mistake in the paper and that she deserved bonus marks. I smiled with a bit of disappointment, carried my bag, and sat down by the train window. I noticed a South Indian family having breakfast—steamed foods and pickles—that would later become strongly connected with my life.

When I reached my college hostel in Chennai, I bought a new regional SIM card, which I still use today. My room was shared with two others: one from Amravati, Maharashtra, and another from Kurnool, Andhra Pradesh. Next door lived a group of Tamil boys, whose first question was, “Bro, do you know Thalapathy Vijay?” At the time, I had never watched South Indian movies except Don No. 1 (Hindi dubbed), which I had seen in Kota. I told them to recommend some movies. Later, I became a huge fan of Vijay, watching Master more than 40 times. I loved that movie the way Sony Max loves Sooryavansham.

Life in the hostel settled in, and I made many South Indian friends. I fell in love with Chennai—the beaches, and the soft fragrance of jasmine flowers tied into gajras I often saw in Tambaram markets. One evening, after dinner, I saw a Facebook message from Roshni asking if I had reached college and how things were going. I replied, and soon our conversations started again. My roommates got to know about it and nicknamed me “Roxni.” My best friend, who also had a crush on a girl preparing for medical exams, gave me another nickname: “Light.” He once asked me to recommend a good movie. I stressed the word good and told him to watch Don Jon. He blindly recommended it to his crush without watching it first, and the result was hilarious—but now they’ve been together for 12 years. That girl is now my best friend too, someone I confide in whenever I feel low.

College life continued, and eventually, Roshni accepted my proposal—on my seventh attempt. She also got admission to study MBBS. We grew closer and even had some intimate conversations. Once, I was returning to my hostel late at night, carrying a 1000-page Thermal Engineering book, when she texted that she had enjoyed our late-night talks and wanted to continue them. It was 2 a.m., I was alone on a deserted street, yet I found myself typing back with one free hand.

But then things grew complicated. She told me her uncle, a reputed doctor, might have arranged her marriage to a friend’s son. We stopped talking for a while, but eventually resumed. One night, I got a call from Pradhaan Ji, who was in Bangalore for an internship. During our chat, she suddenly said, “Let’s do dirty talking like others do.” But by then, I knew I was deeply in love with Roshni. I laughed it off, asking, “How many pegs have you had today?” before steering the conversation back to normal topics.

By 2016, I was working hard on my bachelor’s thesis, spending mornings in the metal workshop at 5 a.m. for design and welding work. Around this time, Roshni messaged me regarding one of her friends, who was also my friend and her neighbor. He had asked me if her friend was single, and I told him honestly that she wasn’t. But Roshni said the opposite, and we ended up arguing. The fight escalated, and she blocked me on WhatsApp.

We met again four years later at a friend’s wedding, where we had a short conversation. The next day, she messaged me, asking which Kanchipuram saree looked better and also warned me to stay back in India due to the rising COVID issues in Italy. I appreciated her concern, but by then, I was a completely different person. My mother’s health issues had changed me, and I had no feelings left for her.

She got engaged to the same guy her uncle had chosen for her—the very day I landed in Milan: December 15, 2021.

It was in September 2021 when I was rambling across the rooftop of my Auntie’s home in Shahdara, Delhi. Shahdara is famous for its spicy food like chilli potatoes, chole bhature, momos, samosas, and its clothing markets where you can buy cheaper clothes and even get things at wholesale prices. What I liked most about visiting Shahdara was eating my auntie’s handmade Dahi Aloo, which is still the tastiest sabji I have ever had, made even more special by her recipe. I was also captivated by the sunset—I’ve loved astrophysics since childhood. Back then, I used to paste newspaper clippings about research or new findings on Mars and other planets.

A cool breeze was flowing around me while I enjoyed the sunset, when suddenly I received a phone call from my father.
“We are at the birthday party of your Sanjana aunty’s grandson. What’s going on at your end? And what’s the status of your visa process?” he asked.
I replied, “The application status is still showing under processing.”

Me and my father often had differences. He wanted me to be a government official and never supported my dreams. Sometimes we got into intense verbal arguments about my future. He wanted me to stay in India, get a government job, and make extra money on the side. I, on the other hand, followed my mother’s teachings: be honest about your work, do your best, and don’t worry about the results.

He continued, “Sanjana aunty’s husband is talking about getting her elder daughter, Priya, married to you. She is a simple and sharp girl, and your mother and I think she’s perfect for you.”
I thought, Of course, money must be on his mind again—he’s probably expecting a handsome dowry. Because of his mentality, I had never asked him for a single penny while pursuing my Master’s in Milan, thanks to scholarships and freelancing projects. I replied, “Ok, fine. If mummy likes her, then it’s fine.” After that, there were daily conversations between my father and Priya’s father.

On 15th February 2022, I was sitting in my room in Turro, Milan, submitting my study plan for the next semester. I got a notification on Facebook that Priya had sent me a friend request. I accepted it a few hours later after finishing my work. She initiated the conversation:
“Hi, how are you? Where are you right now?”
I replied, “Hi, I’m doing well. How about you? Right now I’m in my room.”
She answered, “That’s good. I’m also fine—just finished dinner.”

Like that, our conversation began. I wasn’t sure whether I should marry Priya or not. As we talked, I learned she was an artist who made beautiful drawings and paintings, and she also had a habit of gardening. My mother had already told me about the greenery and flowers at Priya’s home, all maintained by her. I suggested, “You could set up an online store to sell your paintings—I can help you with that.”

We had been talking for three days when I decided to browse her Facebook account. While scrolling through her older posts, I saw she had been tagged a few months earlier in a romantic poetry post by a guy named Manish, to which she had responded with a love emoji. Things got interesting—it felt like a scene from the movie HIT: The Third Case, where Nani investigates a girl’s profile before a date and asks, “Purpose emiti?” (What is the purpose?).

Scrolling further back, I found posts from five years ago where the same guy had tagged her in similar posts. On one of them, she had commented, “Yes, I will always be with you.” It was easy to deduce that she was under family pressure regarding this marriage.

I said nothing to her, but the next day I called my father and told him, “I think I’m not ready for this marriage. Please say no to Priya’s family.”
He asked, “Why, what happened? Have you found another girl there? Tell me about her, I’ll talk with her parents for the marriage.”

I was astounded by his friendly tone. But I didn’t tell him the real reason—I never wanted anyone to raise questions about Priya or her family’s character.

I returned to India after 2.5 years, in 2024. That’s when I found out that Priya’s family had sent a wedding invitation card to ours. On the card, inscribed in elegant italics, were the words:

Priya weds Manish.

The best thing about living in a European country is it makes you independent. Sometimes your own community people give zero damn to the things regarding your work, yet they appear like a Hum Saath Saath Hain movie family during gatherings of any festival celebrations. The other best thing I learned here is valuing others’ time because everyone is fighting their own battles to become the best version of themselves.

Assembling the furniture bought from IKEA was another skill I learned in a hard and interesting way. When I do assembly work of any furniture bought from IKEA, my carpentry workshop in my bachelor’s flashes before my eyes because the workshop focused on basic operations, tool familiarity, and learning to make various wood joints like Half Lap and Dovetail.

When I first arrived in Milan, my apartment was located in the Turro region. My apartment was shared with Telugu people, and from them I learned about cooking egg biryani and other spicy foods. I am an eggetarian, totally opposite to my whole family members who are non-vegetarian. I still remember how they enjoyed their spicy non-veg meals while I had the option of only eating rice milk. Well, I have tasted non-vegetarian food twice in my life.

The first time was in 2014 at a restaurant located at Pillaiyar Koil Street, SRM Backgate, Potheri, Chennai, during my ongoing bachelor’s study, as I had heard a lot about boneless butter chicken from Roshni, since this dish was her favorite. I can understand how the character Justine felt in the movie Raw, who was a pure vegetarian and was forced to eat raw rabbit kidneys, after which she started to have cravings for meat.

The second time was in 2019 when I was in Lucknow for my TOEFL exam. I ate fish offered to me by my best friend’s brother-in-law, who worked as a jailor in Lucknow. We had some bittersweet moments together. Once he scolded me, “You have seen the whole India, but you cannot locate one hotel on your Google Map.” That day there was the marriage ceremony of Palak di at Babian Inn, Lucknow, who is the fourth elder sister of my best friend. This was in June 2018. That time I was in a Bolero with the driver, carrying fruits and sweets to be delivered at the Babian Inn for the marriage ceremony. I was using my Samsung Galaxy J2 whose map arrow was not calibrated properly and led to wrong directions. From that scolding, I was a bit afraid of him and ate the fish without any violations, and it was the last time I ate any non-vegetarian food.

Now, coming to the point of having a subsistence vegetarian life in Milan, there are two locations where you can find Indian foodstuffs: one store situated in Via Padova and others located in Porta Venezia. So one evening in April 2022, I was escorting myself to my apartment after shopping for food supplies from the store located in Via Padova. Both my hands were gripping the stuff in plastic bags. In one bag, there were packets of Haldiram’s aloo parathas which cost around 2.5 euros per packet, with four pieces inside. The other bag contained rice, papads, toor dal, coriander leaves, and other edible stuff.

I received a call from one of my high school friends, Vijay, now nicknamed Fufa ji because he gets easily frowned like normal-aged uncles. He said he received a phone call from a girl who worked as a JRF in one of the IITs and she was enquiring about the internship position which I posted from my firm’s account a few months back for hiring a modeling and simulation intern. I told him that it was fine, I would go through her CV and decide about the further process.

I arrived at my apartment after 15 minutes, retained the frozen food in the refrigerator, and kept the other stuff in the food container. I took out the non-stick pan, and after the pan became warm, the butter came to the berth of the hot surface of the pan and slowly melted down, releasing a redolent fragrance. I took out two pieces of aloo paratha and placed them on the melted butter. I pressed the top surface of the aloo paratha and rubbed the bottom surface against the butter. After a few minutes, I flipped it over and repeated the same process, while in the background my Motorola mobile played the song Coming Back for You by Maroon 5.

I took out the dahi, poured it into a bowl, and kept it along with the aloo parathas on my study table. I opened the website where I posted the internship. The internship post received around 2300 applications, and only 5 percent of candidates possessed 25 percent of the skills mentioned in the post. I remembered the girl’s name that Fufa ji told me to look into. I unfurled her internship application and dictated the information mentioned in the resume in my mind: “Shivani, completed her bachelor’s in manufacturing technology from Lucknow in 2013 to 2017, cool, it coincides with my period of bachelor’s study. Worked as a JRF at one of the IITs and carried out various projects on simulation and numerical modeling using the software I mentioned in the job description. Let’s give it a shot.”

I mailed her regarding the interview date and time, which she accepted. I called her at around 1 pm my time, and for her, it was evening as she was in Pune, India at that time. I asked about her projects and about the software used for carrying out simulation. She asked questions about me and then came to know that I also pursued my bachelor’s during a similar time as hers. She asked about my research area, and I mentioned my bachelor’s thesis work. Without a second thought, she said, “You know that area is completely outdated now, right? You should explore other areas also like additive manufacturing.”

There was a sudden echo in my brain: “Who the fuck are you to tell me about my research work? I have done more quality research work than you.” But the words that evolved from my mouth were: “Okay. Which other research areas should I explore? I don’t know much about simulation and numerical modeling. I am more familiar with optimization using machine learning algorithms.” She explained the research areas and software which later became the pillars of my research career. She also mentioned she was going to the USA for her PhD starting in August 2022. I was also targeting that time to get a PhD position in the USA after completing my master’s, and she suggested applying to one of the reputed universities in Texas, which was famous for research in additive manufacturing.

We started to communicate a lot and ask for each other’s suggestions and it was 2023, I began to perceive some feelings for her as she and I were working on the same research areas and our goals were the same. I was the guy who bunked the simulation and modeling classes in my bachelor’s and now I am learning the software day and night to know every aspect of it. One day, I broached these feelings by sending her a message on WhatsApp. The message was blue ticked after 3 hours and she replied to the message after one day by saying, "I think I am not ready for this now. I have other objectives to be met in life." I said, "It’s fine, I value your thoughts." After that day, we lost contact and I decided not to message her and removed her from my LinkedIn connection.

I received a LinkedIn message from her where she shared the PhD open positions. I did not reply. The next day again she shared other PhD openings in one of the research groups. I thought why the fuck she is doing this, she is well aware that I removed her from my LinkedIn connection. She pinged me on WhatsApp which was totally uncalled for and asked me how I was doing. I said I am doing well and currently working on my Master’s thesis under one of the professors, which she once applied for a PhD position but she didn’t get it. She again said if it’s possible to get one of the recommendation letters from my thesis supervisor. I replied, "I am just a master’s student, who just started his thesis a few weeks back. I cannot go and directly ask my supervisor to write a recommendation letter for you." We sorted out our differences and she made me write a one-page research paper about the topic of why I removed her from my LinkedIn connection which I submitted on time, before 12 am midnight.

We sorted out our differences and collaborated on publishing a book chapter, a research paper, and a book. I browsed through her Facebook profile whose DP was not changed since 2013 and also there was no DP on her WhatsApp either, it was totally blank. One evening in December 2023, I was having a video conversation with my friend on my laptop. I realized she was doing an audio call on my WhatsApp but this time it was different. Her blank DP was superseded by her photo with open hair standing against a bridge railing. I neglected her call as I was discussing important things with my friend regarding internship opportunities in Germany. She called thrice back-to-back which never happened before. I asked my friend to call him later and picked up her audio call. I think she thought I would comment about her DP, but I behaved normally as we are friends and completed the conversation regarding her ongoing research work.

In May 2024, I was at my home in India and I received an audio call from her around 5.30 am morning time. This time we were more philosophical and discussed what we were expecting from our lives and our goals. Out of nowhere she said, "I know what is going in your mind about me and that is possible. But do not keep expectations from me as anything can happen in the future." I was startled by her words and said okay it’s fine. After that, she mailed me her research data obtained from the experimental work and asked how it could be simulated using the software which I was using for my thesis work. There was one thing in my mind, it had been two years and she did not think of asking to connect on Facebook and Instagram. Once I asked her about the Instagram profile and she replied I don’t use it much, but her increasing followers and following data suggested the opposite.

I returned back to Milan in June 2024 and made a lot of applications for jobs through LinkedIn. She audio-called me again regarding the software installation on her laptop. I instructed the procedure for the installation and to my surprise she managed to complete the complex procedure. After that, we gossiped about our seniors and she brought out the point that she is a Marwari Brahmin. Her community is very small and the ladies don’t change their surname after marriage as they marry within the same surname. Her mother also said that the ladies can get married to people whose surname is Pandya. I also commented that in our surname also we can marry people having these particular three surnames. I sent her the simulation files and the data which I developed myself for incoming presentations before the PhD committee about the project proposal. After getting the files and data, she disappeared.

One night, I opened her Instagram profile which was private. If you open a private Instagram profile, you see some suggested accounts as "Suggested for you." I was seeing the suggested people and then suddenly, my eyes remained wide open when a profile of a guy whose surname was ending with Pandya appeared. This guy’s profile was public, which I opened and browsed his following and followers list and Shivani was in both of them. I remembered the words which she said that they can get married in the surname Pandya also. This guy was working as a Software Developer in the USA. It was clear that she was looking for other guys in the background. The next day itself, I dropped a lengthy mail about our situationship but I did not mention the Pandya thing, which she replied to after 15 days by making an excuse that she saw the mail just now and why I have a problem with whom she is following on social media. This brought me back to my senses, and I posted the preprint on the data and simulations work done by me (which I gave to her) on the arXiv site as a single author and also decided to create my profile on a matrimony site once I settle in, as finding a good partner is going to cost a lot of time.

We signed the contract for publishing a book the previous year. The editor sent us a mail asking about the updates at the end of August 2024 as the deadline was approaching. We had our conversation started again for completing the book. In September 2024, we submitted the book for publication and she called again and mentioned that there was no one to help her regarding her research work as no one was familiar with the domain. This time I got the job as a Data Scientist and we were working on the same domain which she mentioned. I began to get my hands dirty on the software and the script work which she mentioned without telling her. I started to post some of the simulation results on my company’s LinkedIn page by May 2025 which she followed, and it gained her attention and she asked to keep the meeting. I told her we can keep a Google meeting around 11 pm my time. She agreed and we met on Google Meet at 12 am midnight as she was late. She did not turn on her camera and she told me she could not hear my voice clearly, it’s better to do an audio call. This was the first strike. I replied, you are the first person to say this as I have many meetings on Google Meet and people never complained about it. She sensed it and continued on Google Meet by muting our audio but she called on WhatsApp for the audio.

She messaged me on WhatsApp on 9th June as there was her poster presentation at a conference in South Carolina and she needed help regarding designing the experimental setup on simulation software for putting it in her poster. I designed and sent it on 10th June. The next day was my birthday, I got wished by close friends but she wished on the next day on LinkedIn which I did not open. She sent a message on WhatsApp for the correction in the design, which I did and sent her without saying any word. She again messaged, "Hey I think you missed my birthday wish on LinkedIn." This was the second strike. I said who replies to 50 automated birthday wishes on LinkedIn. She said, I do. What did you do on your birthday? I thought I was just played for a fool. I did not reply and sent her the corrected design and closed the conversation.

After her poster presentation, she mailed me again regarding the discussion of simulation work by keeping the meeting. I did not reply to the mail. After 20 days she mailed again as she was in need and no one was there to help her regarding this except me and she wanted to present the project update on the coming Monday. It was Thursday and I became soft and agreed to keep the meeting on Saturday. I deleted her WhatsApp number a long time back and set my privacy to only contacts though she called me on my WhatsApp at 12.30 am midnight and started to talk about the work politics going on in her lab. We discussed what points to cover on Saturday’s meeting. We disconnected but I was not able to sleep the whole night. The next day I wrote the below email to her:

I think it’s better to not have the meeting. I wanted to say it for a long time but I don’t want to keep bottling it up in my mind. There are the following things which were going on in my mind:

1. You once said we can have some chances in the future but not to keep expectations. So it means you will be open to other possible choices and leave if you find better options. I have no such mentality, if I am with someone or if I have someone in mind, I will give my hundred percent effort to make it work out. It’s just a simple theory "jitna efforts main, utna efforts tum." This is how any relationship works.
   
   

2. On our previous Google Meet, you were not comfortable turning on your video or I think you were not comfortable at all for a Google Meet. It shows you still have some trust issues though it has been more than I think three years possibly since we know each other (know each other is just an assumption). I think you can discuss your project with your main person, at least he can make efforts for you to find from his connections to help you out.
   
   

3. I remember every minute detail about you but from your side, you don’t give any damn to know the things or details about my life. You only prefer to know or follow your own person of interest.
   
   

4. I have some traditional thoughts. I was in a previous relationship but never went physical because I know my limits. I expect the same from my person of interest (though she knows I love her) but I can’t accept her talking or hanging out with other guys. I just don’t want to be a backup or last option for her.
   You know it takes days or a month for me to overcome these thoughts. I dropped the plan of coming to the US due to these reasons, it’s like making the effort for a person who doesn’t give any damn about you.
   
   

I had these concerns. Sorry if it bothers you.

I did not get any response from her after this mail and I sent her the source code for the simulation work which I developed for her research work and also the PPT files on Sunday which could be helpful for her presentation on the coming Monday.

Sometime after, I got a mail from the publisher who published our book regarding the modification of the royalty contract form where she mentioned she did not want any royalty as she did not make a significant contribution to the book. This was the third and final strike. I was furious and mailed her: Please don’t do anything bullshit in the background which is going to compromise our published work. I have declined to sign the change in royalty form, which will be equally shared. I am not a gold digger. You can donate the amount which you are getting by royalty for a noble cause if you don’t want it for yourself.

To this, she replied she has the full right to do it and again she mailed the publisher and other co-author of the book without thinking about how it’s going to cost my reputation in front of the publisher and the other co-author. I mailed her again: Do whatever you want and take the screenshot of this mail also from a professional point of view. It’s your nature of being selfish and self-centered, anyway the nature of a person cannot be changed, it’s irreversible. You can mail the publisher that we have agreed to the proposal, as I don’t want any more headache from your side as I have other important things to do.

And I also mailed the publisher to replace her bank account details with a foundation that works towards child education and development by sharing the contact details of my friend, she is an ongoing PhD researcher at IIT Guwahati and also was volunteering with this foundation for child education.

The next day, I posted the source code which I shared with her as open-source on my company’s page which was appreciated by various professors and researchers working in that domain, leading to an increase in page followers.

“So what is for dinner?” I texted Janaki. She replied that she was living with her uncle’s family and that her aunty would cook. She didn’t know what her aunty was going to prepare. I replied, “Okay.”

“You live with friends?” she asked.

I replied, “Right now yes, in a shared apartment for the coming three months. I have to shift to Rome after that.”

I was working from home at this time and had to go to the office located in Rome four times a month. I liked Milan more in comparison to Rome, as it had good transportation connectivity, safety, fresh air, and the park called Parco Lambro near my apartment, which spans several kilometers. Another reason was that, as I had been living in Milan for a long period of time, I had become allegiant to it.

She catechized, “What are your hobbies?”

I corresponded to her query by texting, “I like reading books, like a blend of mythology and sci-fi. I like listening to music and unplanned travelling.”

By unplanned travelling, I meant that sometimes I had booked tickets just a few hours before sunrise and went on trips to nature-based places like Lugano, Switzerland, and Trento, Italy. If I ever go underground or disappear from social media in the future, the readers can find me running a cafeteria in one of these nature-based places.

I also asked about her hobbies, to which she replied: watching movies, listening to music, playing badminton, working out at home, and trading stocks for two hours every day.

I remembered when my niece Khushi had sent a few bucks to a guy on Instagram for investing, and the guy sent her back double the money. She again sent him the doubled amount, and then the guy disappeared. When she mentioned this, joking about it, I laughed out loud—but later I had to do the job of the disappeared guy who had promised to double her return.

Another incident was with my first Telugu flatmate, who once asked me to choose between two folded paper slips while I was on a call with my parents. I randomly picked one of the folded slips and handed it to him. He gazed at me in a confounded state and backpedaled towards his room. Later, he revealed that a year ago he had bought a stock for 10 euros, and now its worth was around 950 euros. The slips he gave me had written on them, “Withdraw” and “Not withdraw.” I had chosen the slip that read “Not withdraw.” and he didn't withdrew. 

I replied, “That’s nice. What is your genre in movies and music?”

She replied, “I like sci-fi and horror movies.”

I thought she was totally my type, as I enjoyed watching sci-fi TV series like Dark, The Three-Body Problem, etc. I had also almost completed watching all horror movies with an IMDb rating above 5 from the year 2018 onward. The concept of watching TV series and movies according to IMDb rating was suggested by one of my friends during my bachelor’s studies, and I still follow this rule today as it filters out most of the mediocre ones.

I don’t know what came to my mind, but I asked for her biodata and photos so that I could send them to my mother. She unquestionably sent me three photos and her biodata. I fell for one of the photos.

She stood framed by the ancient, carved wood of the doorway, a vision spun from tradition and quiet grace. A drape of sheer crimson, the color of a fading sunset, enveloped her, its delicate fabric a whisper against the vibrant jade-green of her blouse. A forest of green bangles graced her slender wrists, a silent promise of music with every gesture. Her long, dark tresses fell like a silken river over one shoulder, drawing the eye to the gentle curve of her neck, where a simple, beaded necklace rested. Her gaze was soft, lost in a distant thought, as if she were listening to the echoes of an old melody—her expression a portrait of serene contemplation and timeless beauty.

Is she the one? my brain contemplated.