Fiction 41

“You’re really funny, you know that? You’re the only one I know who can talk about World Peace and the Idli-sambhar you had for   dinner in the same sentence, so effortlessly.”

“Thank you.” she says, taking a mock bow. “We aim to please.”

“You know, after the crying episode, no one even noticed that I’d cried, except you.” she smiles.

“So, what else is new? I’m the only one who understands you .”

“You might have a million friends around who love you, but you’re the only one I will ever truly love, remember that, okay?”

“It’s not the quantity, it’s quality that matters.” he says, taking a long puff, his eyes suddenly as red as the ember from the cigarette.

“What does that mean?” she asks.

“What do you think that means?” he replies.

“You shouldn’t answer a question with a question.”

“Then you should stop asking stupid questions.” he ruffles her hair. “Take off your glasses. Your eyes look beautiful in the night.”

“I can’t see without them. And anyway, I will look like a raccoon without them.”

“I like raccoons. And rabbits.”

“Aww…”

“They’re delicious!”

“Ass!” she says, throwing a pillow at his head. “That is so mean!”

“What is mean? I don’t even understand how you people live eating ghaas-poos and potatoes!”

“Some day,” she says “I’ll make you eat my vegetarian cooking for a whole week. Then you’ll convert. For good.

“In your effing dreams!” he laughs.

“Oh shut up!” she giggles, moving a little closer.

“You’re one of a kind. ” he says, holding her so close he’s talking to the top of her head.  “And although you might not believe it, people do love you.”

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