Chapter 3: A Spark in the Cubicle (2007)
The internship was a far cry from the academic grind. The work environment felt stagnant—a monotonous routine fueled by empty showmanship. But a beacon of light cut through the boredom—Urvashi.
On the second day, in January 2007, a new batch of interns arrived. Among them was Urvashi, an introverted beauty with a smile that could melt away the Ahmedabad heat. I, meanwhile, was battling the chores of the internship while preparing for the GATE exam, my escape route to a more stimulating academic environment.
Our working hours were grueling, from 3 p.m. to 11 p.m., but Urvashi's arrival made them bearable. With the GATE exam looming on February 12th, I should have been focused on my studies. Yet, I found myself inexplicably drawn to her. Every day at 2:45 PM, I'd be by the door, waiting to catch a glimpse of her arrival. The clock on the wall became a source of nervous anticipation, ticking down the moments until she walked in, her signature hair toss followed by that captivating smile if our eyes met.
We connected easily, sharing stories and laughter. A five-day break for Makar Sankranti offered a temporary reprieve, but upon returning, the yearning intensified. For the first three nights, I had trouble falling asleep because I was experiencing a whirlwind of contradictory emotions. It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced—a nervousness that surpassed even my final exams.
On the 19th, after a grueling shift, I knew I couldn't hold it in any longer. With the GATE exam just 20 days away, the pressure of my feelings threatened to sabotage my studies. I cornered Urvashi at the office stairs as she was leaving with her friend Rucha.
Taking a deep breath, I poured out my heart:
"There's something I need to tell you. It's been building up, and I can't hold it in anymore. I don't know how to explain it, but in just these ten days, you've become incredibly important to me. It's affecting my sleep, and with the GATE exam approaching, I'm worried it might affect my performance. I just needed to get it off my chest so I could focus on studying. The truth is, I feel something special for you. Don't take it as a proposal, because I might not be mature enough to understand these feelings, but they're real and scaring me like shit! But I think that you have some inexplicable but intriguing effects on me."
My confession spilled out in a single, breathless rush. Her initial surprise melted into a gentle smile.
"I understand," she said calmly. "It's good you shared this. Now, take it easy and focus on your studies."
Her simple response, while a relief, left me with a mix of emotions. Confusion mingled with a strange sense of calm. Nevertheless, I buckled down and dedicated the next 20 days to my studies. The exam went well, considering the limited prep time.
But Urvashi wasn't just a distraction; she was a catalyst. For the first time, I found myself drawn to the realm of front-end coding. The curly braces of ASP.NET code started to resemble the curves of her smile. Debugging errors, with their harsh red font, seemed laced with the sweetness of her voice. Even the mundane radio buttons took on a new charm, mirroring the beauty of her eyes. ODBC (a.k.a. open database connectivity) coding, a chore in the past, became a way to build an emotional bridge, a connection to her heart.
We laughed together, worked together, teased each other, and found amusement in our module leader's quirks. As my results approached, her hand offered a comforting presence amidst the nervous anticipation. The news was good—a score that guaranteed admission to my dream college.
We celebrated with ice cream—a bittersweet moment. Her silence spoke volumes, her eyes reflecting a deeper connection. As we grew closer, her affection blossomed.
"Why do you like me?" she finally asked.
My answer was prompt and concise:
"I can't explain it. There's a simplicity and a beauty about you that defies logic. I don't want to analyze it; I just want to feel it."
I retaliated with the same question, and she was startled. "How can you be so sure I like you?"
"Hey, how can you be so sure that I do like you?, It's nothing like that." She withdrew her gaze with timidity.
"Maybe, but your eyes are far more honest than your lips." I replied and was rewarded with a rare sparkle in her eyes and a blush in chicks for which any guy could die.
"Your honesty," she answered, "your confidence, your sharp wit, and..." she paused, a playful glint in her eyes, "and you are very, very cute!"
"Cute?" I scoffed, hiding my offense. "No way!"
"Okay, sweet then?" she offered with a laugh.
Lost in the melody of her laughter, I conceded. "Okay, cute is agreeable!"
As we continued to talk, the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over our conversation. The way she looked at me, with genuine interest and kindness, made me feel like the luckiest person in the world. It was in that moment that I realized I didn't just like her; I was falling hard for her. But she could foresee the social customs glitch between us. And me? I was so engrossed in the act of cuddling with my first crush pillow that I was unable to think beyond that moment. And as it often happens, our paths diverged. We moved on, leaving me with the memory of her intoxicating scent and the bittersweet taste of first love.
