Chapter 4: A Slow Burn in Bangalore (2008-2011)
M.Tech. at my dream college was a breath of fresh air after the stifling environment of my B.Tech. years. Freedom reigned; learning was valued over grades, attendance wasn't mandatory, and the library was accessible at all hours. I reveled in it all, participating in everything from theater to badminton and never missing a single class.
The most fulfilling part, however, was conducting lab sessions. I took joy in helping students think about the subject, valuing their approach over rote memorization. Their positive feedback, from both students and professors, was a sweet reward.
One face stood out in our male-dominated class. We'd bump into each other at picnics and parties, her infectious smile and carefree dancing attracting my attention. But a spark hadn't quite ignited yet. During our thesis period, on different research paths, we started spending evenings together, laughing, playing pranks, and simply enjoying each other's company. Two years flew by, and my feelings for her deepened, though I remained unsure. As my usual awkwardness would have it, my emotions were an open book. She picked up on my growing restlessness, and my emotions, as usual, were not well hidden.
The distance of Mysore training did little to quell my feelings. We stayed connected by playfully calling each other by nickname. Subconsciously, she was barging up more and more space in my thoughts.
By the time I landed in Bangalore after finishing training, the emotional intensity had reached a tipping point. The initial phase there was tough, lonely, and clueless, and I desperately craved companionship or a familiar emotional comfort shelter. Three years of simmering feelings finally boiled over.
One evening, during a regular chat, the conversation took a turn. At a pivotal moment, I confessed,
"It's been amazing knowing you for over two years. I've realized I have special feelings for you."
"What? I don't understand. What's special?" Her feigned ignorance, a common female tactic in my mind, only served to irritate me. "You know exactly what I'm talking about," I insisted.
An awkward silence followed. What complex calculations, I wondered, were happening in her mind?
"Hmm, yeah, I know," she finally admitted. "But... why are you telling me now?"
"Because I only just realized it myself," I confessed. "Two years seemed to fly by in a dream, and I just couldn't see it before."
"Yaar," she started, using a friendly Hindi term, "things would have been different if you had said something back in college. Now, I'm back with my family, and things are different."
Confusion clouded me. "I don't get it," I stammered.
"Yes, there was something between us in college time, and I liked you," she elaborated. "But now, even though we chat a lot, I think a lot has changed. I don't see a future for us. I'm so confused."
"Some deep emotions' waves take time to feel tsunami at a conscious level," I offered, trying to justify my delayed realization.
Another agonizing pause. "Even if I wanted to," she sighed, "Things are not going to be as smooth due to the difference in our family values."
Somehow, an instinct told me to press no further. Perhaps there was a part of me that was unsure as well. Despite the disappointment, I learned a valuable lesson: relationships can grow stronger over time, but timing is crucial. But another new self-realization was very important for me: I was unknowingly ready to commit my heart to serious relationships.
With her friendly encouragement, I ventured out into Bangalore's "field," prepared to face the world, financially independent, and full of confidence. Little did I know that within six months, I would experience some of the most beautiful and unforgettable encounters of my life..
