Crossing the Mirage:Passing Through Youth - Page 48/134

It was into that setting that Vasu entered when Nithya was all alone at home that evening.

“What do you want?” she asked, opening the door to a stunned Vasu.

He directed her questioning look towards the "To Let‟ board though without taking his eyes off her.

“My father is not at home,” she said, equally enamored of him.

"Can I see the place?” he asked, sensing his opportunity.

“You can, but... .”

“Show me then,” he persisted.

“But it's not I who decide.”

“I'm sure,” he said enticingly, “you can surely put in a word.”

She blushed for a reply.

“When can I come back?”

“After my father is back,” she said, regaining herself.

“How am I to know that?” he said with a smile. “I'll be back soon.”

“Welcome,” she said, a little embarrassed, “but I‟m sorry.”

“Never mind,” he said enticingly. “May I know your name?”

“I'm Nithya.”

“I'm Vasu,” he said smiling, “you've a nice name.”

“Thank you,” she too smiled.

“Do expect me,” he said as he took the road.

Drawn by attraction, she went up to the gate, and he, in anticipation, looked back at her. As that facilitated their eye contact, while she withdrew herself in embarrassment, thinking about the possibilities, he left elated.

"A man for dreams,‟ felt Nithya trying to relive the moment.

"A dame of a game,‟ thought Vasu sardonically.

When he came back, while shyness kept her away from him, her desire let her daydream in anticipation. And when he got the nod from her parents, she felt elated.

“He's of our ilk,” said her mother meaningfully. “Moreover, he's handsome and holds a decent position. Didn't he say he's an officer at some bank? It's a match that would floor anyone. Isn't that so?”

While the mother placed the cart before the horse, the seed of her daughter's infatuation got embedded in the soil of expectation. And to the delight of all, the following Sunday, Vasu occupied the outhouse.

“What if we invite him for lunch?” proposed her father.

“Why not?” said her mother. “It will make a welcome gesture.”

It was at the dining table that Nithya was formally introduced to Vasu.

“Nithya cooks deliciously,” said her mother, inviting him to have a go at the preparations. “You can check it for yourself.”

“Then,” he began eating, mocking greed, “I've got a job on hand.”

“In that case,” said Nithya getting up in jest, “better I get back to the kitchen.”