I, the resident of a studio apartment in Paradise Apartments Block Q, do not have a balcony I can call my own. I am thirty years old, I read a novel a day, and I love monsoons – but none of that matters without a balcony. You know those rainy afternoons when all you want to do is grab a cup of tea and pretend to read some Proust? Where am I supposed to do that if I do not have a balcony?

I rushed into Kitab Khana, drenched to the bone thanks to the sticky wetness of Mumbai’s infamous rains. The blast of the air-conditioner froze me momentarily but the polite reminder of “madam, the store is closing in fifteen minutes” by a gentle cashier snapped me back into life.

It was late October 1999. The ground beneath my feet was wetter than water. Bhubaneswar’s clear skies had turned into a swimming pool. And I learned that the clouds that I thought were made of cotton were actually made of waterfalls.

“Gridlock. Bottleneck. Logjam. Stalemate. Congestion.”

Aparna muttered these words under her breath, as the comforting breeze of her car’s air conditioner caressed her forehead. She loved thinking of synonyms. All her life, she sought to make little word-trees. Maybe that is why she taught Verbal Reasoning at Career Launcher.

Once upon a time, I did not know the meaning of the word “lalochezia”. But then, I met him. And my life changed.

“Hey, I am Chris. My idea of a good time is going to concerts, dinners out, out for drinks, or watching movies. I am always looking to try new things”.

Left Swipe.