Nandika didn’t expect this question from the Lost Boy. Her heart hitches for a moment. It is surprising but more surprising is when he asks this question, unknowingly a familiar face flashes in front of her eyes. The face which is gazing at her, unmindfully and then softly utters those unbelievable words, “You have beautiful eyes, Nandika.”

Her reverie gets broken by Lost Boy’s another ping,

“It’s okay if you don’t want to share. Actually, I was a bit curious. Nutty M…queen of romantic novels. An idol of love, for whom everybody is crazy; is she crazy for anyone? Does everybody’s love, love someone? But it’s okay if you are not comfortable. After all, you are my Agony aunt, not me.”

Nandika bites her lips in hesitation. Nutty M is famous for ruminating over human psychology. Analysing complicated love is her forte. But on the contrary, she doesn’t have anyone who can read and analyse her mind…her complicated emotions. Nandika types,

“Nothing like that. For the first time, anyone asked me this question. Maybe from inside, I wanted to be questioned about this for a long time because sometimes we writers need a mirror to whom we can ask…Mirror, mirror on the wall. So, thank you for being that mirror. But before answering, can I reverse the roll for this night? I mean; can you be my Agony aunt for this moment? Because my answer will depend on your answer.”

His answer comes straight away,

“It will be my pleasure.”

Nandika takes a few minutes to gather her words. Inhaling a deep breath, she types,

“Can a nerd, a very average-looking girl be liked by a handsome and popular boy?”

Some silence lingers and a question flashes on the screen,

“Nutty M…is this your own dilemma?”

Nandika closes her eyes to make up her mind. She has to get the answer.

“Hmmmm…like you are a handsome boy and vexed with over attention, I am an average looking girl who is insecure about her desirability….since my childhood. Perhaps that’s why I try to find my escape in my writing. It’s irony…right, the writer Nutty M who sounds so confident in her pages is actually so diffident about her existence! But it is my reality. I don’t know how love feels because I never allowed myself to fall for anyone because I know in reality, inner beauty comes always second when she has to compete with outer beauty.”

Nandika reads her own words, thinks for a while and then taps the send button. She has never waited for anything so eagerly in her life. She is staring at the screen, passing every second like aeons. Eventually, his answer reflects,

“No, Nutty M. Even I used to hold this notion. I thought that people like me, love me because of my good looks, flamboyance and charm. And perhaps it is right to some extent. But not for everyone. At least I can’t say it after what I felt today.”

Nandika was about to ask what he felt and whom is he talking about when her phone screen blinks its last and becomes black.

“Shit…this phone. Always betrays me in need.”

She curses with a gritted jaw and impatiently inserts the charger. Her eyes fall on the wall clock. God, it’s 3:45 am. She hadn’t realised how the past 3 hours passed like a blow. Nandika immediately switches off the side lamp. Tomorrow, she has a morning class and of course the study session with Maan Malhotra. His thought brings a grin to her lips but simultaneously a fear clouds her mind. Is she doing right? Are Lost Boy’s words true? Can inner worth win over outer quality?

“Maan and me? Can it be possible?”

Her heart raises the ultimate question. With a deep sigh, she pulls the comforter on her chest and slips into slumber.

......................................

Maan was frequently glancing at his wristwatch and then towards the way from where he was expecting her delicate frame, approaching him. His brows crunch with impatience and ire.

“Don’t tell me she is not coming. Fuck Man…I just told her the truth.”

He mumbles and rubs his neck with frustration. Nandika’s black doe eyes again start peeping into his mind.

“Damn it..!”

He turns at the tree and punches the bark in a pique.

“Maan..!”

A sweet yet worried voice shrieks from behind. Maan pivots and sees the most desired sight. His eyes meet her anxious face. Nandika’s eyes fall on his hand and widen. His knuckles are oozing blood.

“What the hell, Maan? Are you crazy?”

By saying this she immediately nears him to take his injured hand in her palms. Maan is observing her silently. His eyes are serene but his jaws are hard. Nandika takes out a bottle of water and a hanky from her handbag. She pours some water on his wound. Blood mixed with water drops on the ground. She glances at his face as she knows it is burning and she is perplexed why Maan doesn’t utter a single sound of anguish. She again concentrates on her dressing work; however, she could feel his constant gaze on her. All her nerves become strained. In order to shift his focus, she teasingly mouths,

“I knew that you are a guitarist…singer. But now, I can see you are a boxer too. But it would have been better if you had tried your punches on a punching bag. At least, I would not have to do this nursing on you.”

Nandika giggles softly while wrapping the kerchief around his knuckles. All of a sudden, Maan pulls back his hand with a jerk.

“Who told you to care about me? In fact, who told you to even come? Just go and leave me alone. I don’t need your any help, Ms scholar Murthy.”

He snaps at Nandika. However, he himself doesn’t know what is the reason behind this anger. His increasing attraction towards her or her ignorance towards him. A baffled Nandika looks at his angry eyes and mouths softly,

“I came to say this only. From tomorrow I won’t come. This is our last study session, Mr Malhotra.”