Someone Like You by Nikita Singh, Durjoy Datta Page A

from Jaipur. I’ve lived there all my life. I spent the last two years in Kota though.’
    ‘I thought you were from Delhi. Or Mumbai or Bangalore,’ he says and adjusts his spectacles that drop below his nose-bridge.
    ‘Why would you say that?’ I ask.
    ‘You look like you are from there. The clothes, the way you talk … you know? The style … I don’t know,’ he says, and it looks like he regrets saying it.
    We start talking about our home towns and he tells memore about himself. He tells me his father has a small factory that makes parts for electronic calculators and his interest in electronics started from there. He looks like someone who comes from a background without a lot of money. His complexion is darkish, his looks are average, his clothes are regular and his hairstyle shouts that he belongs to a small town. And that is what I find most appealing about him. He is just a kid, from a small place, from where he must have always wanted to go out and study. But the best thing about him is that after he completes his studies, his plan is to go back to his home town and work with his father. He dreams of taking his father’s small business to heights some day. He wants to go back to where he was from, and do something there.
    ‘So you always wanted to be an electronics engineer?’ I ask.
    ‘Yes. There are a lot of things I have wanted to do with my father’s business that he can’t. So I thought I would get a Master’s degree in electronics and join my father’s business. I had started studying all our subjects in my twelfth class itself. What about you? You always wanted to be an electronics engineer too?’
    The kid’s sincerity and the innocence in his voice make me feel a little ashamed and worthless.
    ‘Me? Not at all. I just wanted to get into IIT to make my parents proud. I didn’t mind studying and I didn’t know what else to do. I have not really thought about what I want to be,’ I say, at the risk of sounding stupid.
    ‘Oh, that’s okay,’ he says and there is a silence.
    We listen to what the professor is saying, but he has gone off on a tangentially different topic and we are clueless. I break the silence and start telling him about Kota and what it was like there. I tell him about my classes there and my only friend—Navroz.
    ‘Navroz. Is he your … I mean, are you committed to him?’ he asks and I don’t blame him. I guess I was talking too much about Navroz, so I had it coming.
    ‘What? Navroz? Oh, no. He used to have a girlfriend there. Priya. But then they broke up—’
    ‘Because she thought he was going out with you too?’ he asks.
    ‘No. Because of other reasons.’
    ‘Hmm. I thought they broke up because of you.’
    ‘No, they didn’t,’ I say, exasperatedly.
    ‘Are you sure he didn’t secretly love you? Maybe he did. And his girlfriend got to know. That’s how it always happens,’ he continues, quite irritatingly.
    I don’t say anything.
What just happened to the cute kid?
I don’t understand why he suddenly started acting so weird. It was getting a little awkward, so I decide to shut up.
    ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispers after a while. ‘I just wanted to keep the conversation going. But I didn’t know what to say. I was nervous.’
    ‘Why would you be so nervous? You’re so … you know … lovely …’
    He looks embarrassed. And I think that’s kind of sweet too.
    ‘I hope you’re not mad,’ he says meekly. ‘I just thought it would sound cool if I talk about relationships and break-ups. My friend said that’s what people do in the cities,’ he explains.
    ‘That is the silliest thing I’ve ever heard,’ I say and we burst out laughing.
    I suddenly remember that I didn’t put him through my Three-Minute Test. But then I didn’t need to. There are a few people who come into your life like sunshine on a gloomy, winter morning, Tanmay seems exactly like that. I have met him twice and it seems like I know him for a really long time. I don’t