Three weeks at home, and I only saw you in the last three days. Hardly anyone in that gym stretched, me included. You did. So I thought, okay, this one knows what she's doing.
Then I noticed your form, and everything was on point. Then we kept making eye contact while I was squatting, and I was silently begging you not to look, because the funny faces and the grunting were about to begin.
Then I thought, whatever, it's my last day here. Little did I know I'd end up saying hi.
After the gym, I did. We got talking, and then you asked for my Instagram. (Yes, you asked π) I followed, pinged you, and the rest is in this book.
depth: on pointPR loadingβ¦
coach Puja πͺ
ii. kairos
Not just time. The right moment.
You taught me a Greek word on day one. (Yes, I googled it.) Chronos is time passing. Kairos is the right moment arriving.
You changed your gym timing. I switched to evenings. You said "see you on Monday," and I said I was leaving. Little choices, and we both made a few.
"Some encounters happen by chance, but whether they turn into something meaningful depends on what we choose to do with them."β Puja, philosopher, essay writer
I blamed kairos once. It's forgiven now.
iii. the unfinished coffee
Our brains hold on to unfinished things.
That same day, I asked you out. You had work, so the answer was: next time. I almost got rejected π
So I did the only logical thing. I planned to come back as soon as possible.
Psychologists call it the Zeigarnik effect. It's why I keep thinking about one coffee we never had.
Meanwhile, you kept sending me coffee. Black, of course.
"coffee sir?"
"coffee sir!!"
still waiting for that one β
iv. wildflowers
She likes every flower. But wildflowers most.
Because they grow effortlessly, untamed. Then one day she picked some off the roadside and sent them to me.
30th October π» marked.
My first flowers. Hand-picked. And a few more from her gallery:
(the lilies didn't grow. Next chapter, there'll be lilies π€«)
v. the deal
A picture for a picture.
You offered a trade. I'd never played this game. Then you went straight for the face. Strongest card first. Not fair.
deal π
"will this count?" β
It counted. Everything counted.
vi. a legal matter
The Cheek Contract.
In the Court of Swami Sandeepanand
Cheeks v. The World
Case no. 2207 Β· Term: lifetime
Exhibit A
Defendant when the 4:30 gym alarm rings.
Exhibit B
Defendant when bombarded with delicious food reels.
Exhibit C
Defendant upon receiving black coffee.
Exhibit D
Defendant's official statement: "these are called high cheekbones."
Legal precedent
At birth, every other baby weighed 3 kg. The defendant weighed 4. After careful review, this court finds that everyone else was underweight, and the defendant had the correct weight. (Defendant laughed so loudly her brother asked "kya hua tujhe?")
Ruling: the cheeks stay.
Non-negotiable. Best deal they ever signed.
Case closed
Swami SandeepanandChief Justice of Cheeks Β· Biggest Fan
vii. the little things
Things I noticed, that you didn't know I noticed.
π§ββοΈThe stretching. Where the whole story began.
π§¦Your socks. Before we'd even said hi, I spotted them and thought, cool, we have the same ones. Clearly a sign.
π―How locked in you are. People call it rude. I call it focus.
πββοΈYour hair. Open or tied back. Chef's kiss.
layers? never heard of her πββοΈ
sunflower mode π»and that smile
viii. the footnotes
A small glossary of us.
Swami Sandeepanand π§ββοΈ
Antaryami Baba, Himalayas branch. 60% success rate. Accepts black coffee as offering.
The tornado look πͺοΈ
Post-workout hair. Approved.
Baby potato π₯
What she calls herself. Also, my favourite vegetable.
The morning read
Essays that didn't feel like essays. Read twice, morning and evening.
"Not much of a talker" π€«
What she says about herself. Then types essays to me without even realising. Evidence: this entire book.
Walking library π
Two master's degrees, Anthropology and Psychology, and a PhD in the pipeline. "It's just a degree," she says. Gosh.
Looking at the sky βοΈ
What you have to do to look at me. I'll bring a ladder.
Class 10 friends
Three days in, it felt like picking up where we left off years ago.
ix. the honesty round
You picked all six levels.
1 Β· My first thought
This one's serious about her training. Calm, focused, in her own world. Turns out the girl in her own world had a whole universe of essays inside.
2 Β· What I noticed first
The stretching. I admire people who stretch, and there you were doing it seriously and properly. That's where the whole story began.
3 Β· What I like about you
The way you think. You turn a simple chat into kairos and Greek philosophy. How far you've come. Discipline, warmth, those cheeks, and all your cute little things with nails, flowers and everything else.
4 Β· What annoys me
Your sleep schedule. Every time the conversation gets good, it's 11 pm and you vanish. (Kidding. I respect it a lot.) What actually annoys me: you calling yourself ordinary, or a baby potato.
5 Β· Something I've hidden
I reread our chats. More than once. And I keep going back to your pictures.
6 Β· What I'd never say to your face
That I'm nervous about meeting you. Not because of you, but because these chats have meant so much that I don't want to mess up the real thing. Over text I'm Swami Sandeepanand. In person I might just be a shy guy holding a coffee.
(you said you'd be happy with the shy guy. I'm holding you to that β)
β
end of chapter one
Looks start the story. Qualities make you stay.
I don't want the idea of you. I want to know the real you: the good days, the tornado days, all of it. One coffee at a time.