It was 7:15 am and he was running late. He needed to reach the restaurant soon before she comes and was feeling irritated. He had never been late once in the last six months. He hurried out of his house, started his bike already deciding on the short route to take. He arrived at 7:58 with two minutes to spare. His shirt was drenched through from the sweltering heat and he realized he had forgotten to wear a deodorant. He cursed himself. As if wiping the sweat of his brow, he smelled himself and decided it was not so bad.

The manager and waiters in the restaurant knew him well by now as he came here every day. The dark but pleasant faced waiter, Cheenu, greeted him “Good morning sir, late today, what happened?”. He just smiled, nodded and hurriedly sat in his usual place. He knew Cheenu will bring him coffee and Masala Vada without asking for it. He waited.

The clock struck 8:00 and she came. She wore a red saree with yellow flowers today. It suited her perfectly. Red was her color and the yellow elevated her beauty. He wished she wore red and yellow more often. This is the first time he had seen her in this saree and it made his heart skip more than a few beats. She was not fair or dark. Her skin was dewy and radiant. She had curly hair, not tight curls but more of the bouncy sought. She never tied her hair. Her eyebrows were well shaped. The lashes that adorned her eyes were long and thick. She had large onyx eyes, straight Grecian nose, full lips luscious like rose and all of this rested in an oval face. She was not thin or fat. She was perfect for him in every way. He knew the shape of her so well that he could draw her blindfolded. He loved her.

She ate breakfast here at the restaurant every day, sitting exactly 5 seats ahead of him. He has been watching her for 6 months now (not the weekends.). She smiles at him once in a while as a result of the vague familiarity that comes when a face becomes recognizable. Cheenu brought him his coffee which he started drinking slowly. No one, not even the girl knew of his true motive of coming to the restaurant. He was very careful so as no one caught his worshiping gaze of her.  She was laughing at something her companion said, what a laugh it was! It sounded like flowing water, you could get drenched in it. Once he had followed her for one whole day. He knew where she lived. On evenings when he had to see her one more time, he would have tea in the shop next to her house hoping to get a glance of her. He took care so he was not recognized by her, he did not want to alarm her and definitely did not want her to stop smiling at him in the mornings. Usually, before going to the tea shop, he changed into the extra pair of clothes he carried and finished the look with a wig and sun glasses.  On one of those evenings he had seen her and her daughter come to the shop to buy biscuits. He thought her daughter looked nothing like her.

She finished her breakfast, settled the bill and left to catch the 8:40 bus to her work. Now he needed to wait another 9 hours before he could see her, that is only if he was lucky. Sometimes she is already home before he gets to the shop and once home she hardly ventures out.

By the time he got home that evening, he was tired from all the day’s activities. His wife was waiting for him having just finished re-heating the food for him. She had prepared his favorite chicken biryani. He entered the house, dropped his suitcase and a plastic bag near the living room sofa and grunted at her a greeting. He went up to their bedroom to wash and change. He came down to eat. His wife had already set the table for him and served him. Midway through the meal he paused, looked at his wife and said “Get the plastic bag by my suit case. I have got something for you.”. She retrieved the bag and withdrew its contents. It was a beautiful red saree with yellow flowers. She thanked him again and again for it. He asked her to go change into it immediately so he can see how it looks. As she carried the saree to the bedroom, she wondered how lucky she was to have a husband who worked so hard, pulled such long hours without complaint and still remain so considerate to her. She mused that even though the saree was nice, green was her favorite color not red, but she berated herself for being ungrateful and squashed the ungrateful thought as soon as it came.