• AADYA •

A WEEK LATER…

A mysterious text from a random person named Advika Bansal gave me hope that my days-long questions would be answered very soon.

Drop that frown. Let me explain what had happened that day.

While meeting Ishaan for the first time, I had this pull towards him. It felt like meeting your long-lost best friend after ages. Those features were so familiar to me, but I didn't know where I had seen him. I couldn't help but search for clues on his face. I wished that I had the guts to initiate the conversation and confirm my suspicions.

Trying to ignore those overwhelming thoughts, I looked at the screen, only to see those tiresome advertisements. “Fuck! Can't they just play the movie already?”

“I think they won't.” I heard the reply from the familiar stranger, as if all the Gods had replied to my prayers. “Are they waiting for the Prime Minister to inaugurate the show?”

“Probably.” I bit my cheeks, trying to suppress my monstrous laughter, and was successful by reducing the size to somewhat minimal. “But, I don't want anyone here. I just want the movie to run right now.”

As I turned my focus to nowhere, a voice inside me— something so demanding that I should listen to it— said, “Come on, Aadya. Ask what you want to.”

“Have we met somewhere? You look so familiar.”

The look he had on his face was so deadpanned that it made me curate a list of probabilities that could be running in his mind.

“No. I'm new to this city.” As he had finally managed to come up with a reply, it did nothing but raise my out-of-the-world suspicion.

“Oh! No wonder you're here,” I joked and chuckled at it, making him chuckle as well. A good joke is one of the secrets behind gaining someone's trust. “Did you know why there's a countable number of people in this hall? Because, everyone knows that this is a movie that deserves only the attention of reviewers, cast and crew of the movie, and lovers who badly want to have a hot makeout session.” Adding a dramatic pause, I continued, “Also, people who are new to this city,” in a “no pun intended” tone.

“Oh!” He let out an airy laughter and asked, “Then… Why are you here?”

Is that okay if I confess to a stranger that I came to a random movie show to escape from my fiancé with whom I had a fight?

Adjusting my black, square rimmed spectacles and inclining myself towards his side— I replied, “I'm a freelance reviewer,’’ mentally wincing at the lie. Anyhow, he's new to the city and couldn't recognise me. Even if he found out my real identity, it wasn't like he would come to me and ask why.

“Oh, fuck! I'm extremely sorry. By the way, your name?”

Oh, shit! There he goes. I was sure that I could never say that my name is Aadya Chatterjee. At least, for that moment.

Before I could come up with a new bluff— or a name— he added, “You may know mine as well. I'm Ishaan Ahuja,” and extended his hand.

A man with messy hair, dusky skin, and dark green eyes with Indian facial features? Check.
Not a Delhiite? Check.
Named Ishaan Ahuja? Double check.

I tried to let out a chuckle, trying to get rid of the overwhelming thoughts in me, as I said, “That's fine.” I reciprocated his handshake as I introduced myself as Maya Singh. “Well, Ishaan…” I scratched my forehead and paused to propose my new plan into words, but later asked, “Before it gets dark, shall we take a selfie?”

I couldn't help but ask this, so that I could do this for future references. What if I almost knew where he was from but couldn't remember his face? As I noticed the hesitation in his face, I added, “I have fixation amnesia.” Seeing his frown getting deeper, I further bluffed, “Short-term memory loss,” while my head and heart unanimously screamed, “Fuck you, Aadya!”

The moment I uttered those lies, I wished there was a secret passage underground which would open up that moment and swallow me like a hungry shark.

“I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to ask that. Please don't—”

“That's fine, Ishaan.” I let out a tiny, fake, reassuring smile and extended my phone for the selfie, silently asking for his response. As he nodded his head, I switched it on and took around three selfies of us.

Then, as if on cue, the movie started to run with a statutory warning for not to smoke, drink, and use drugs while I was reminding myself to text my friend Shaina right after the movie ended.

And, just as I remembered, I texted Shaina about my brief chat with Ishaan and the three pictures— one of the selfie I took with Ishaan and the rest of them were AI art portraits of Ishaan made by Jaspreet Singh and Chelsea Gilchrist— when I got inside my cab to my home. Ten minutes later, when I reached my home, I received two texts from Shaina.

Shaina:
Since when the fuck did you become so unbelievable? Like, honestly, this way WAY TOO FUCKING MUCH, Aadya Chatterjee!

Me:
I know. *sad emoji* That's a true shame on my ass, right?

Shaina:
Yeah. *eyes rolling emoji* A true, fucking shame on your bippity-boppity ass, bitch!
You could have thought of a better idea.

Me:
I'm not a think tank like you, Shay.

Shaina:
*sideways glance emoji*
Stop singing praises of me. And, wait! Did that guy believe your bluffs?

Me:
Yes.

Shaina:
ALL of them?

Me:
Yes.

Shaina:
Ouch! That's too pathetic of that guy.
But then, yeah, he DOES look similar to those fan arts (why the Hell do I have to support your delusion?).

Me:
I know right! (you're my best friend, for Goddamn's sake. So, you have to support it)
Also, I have this feeling that all of my delusional thoughts are so true. Is it normal to feel that way?

Shaina:
How would you like to define your “delusional thoughts”?

Me:
That Ishaan, after all, is not fictional. He did exist in some parts of the world, along with those words I've written and I'm planning to write.
Is it normal to feel that way?

Shaina:
Normal for species other than Homo sapiens. *sideways glance emoji*

Me:
Bitch!

Shaina:
Just kidding. But honestly, I don't know. It may. It may not. Only the Universe knows!

***

0dv1k0._.:
Respected ma'am,

My name is Advika Bansal. I know this may sound creepy, but I feel like telling you about something important— neither late nor never.

So, I just saw your post on the guy who resembled Ishaan in your imagination (which was so uncanny). And, after seeing them, I think it's high time to talk about it.

I know, this sounds too mysterious and stuff. But, I fear that I couldn't give any more details other than these. Some stuff needs to be explained in real life. So, if possible, could we catch up somewhere? I live in New Delhi as well, so meeting is quite easier in this case. I swear, you can trust me. I'm not a prankster.

Thank you!

I reread the message I had received to my personal account and my professional account a week ago, meanwhile waiting for Miss Bansal to arrive at the Starbucks near my house.

Though I was vehemently against this plan— like, only God knows what the Hell her motive is— she managed to convince me like Hell. Let me tell you, this woman's tenacity was something to be feared of! Upon fixing our appointment, I warned Shaina and Dhruv to stay alert and pick up my calls at any time, so that they could be an additional help if I ever landed in danger because of her.

Just then, a corner of my eye spotted a maroon Activa scooter of two people from outside the window. One was a short girl in a white “Main Character Energy” T-shirt and black cargo pants with a pair of rectangular spectacles. That innocence in her face made her look like she was twenty, making me almost confirm that it was Advika Bansal.

The guy who sat behind Bansal… He had those features I would remember even in my dreams. After all, he was the real life carbon copy of the child I created with my brain. Messy hair. Two-months-old beard. Dusky skin. Dark green eyes. It was him, indeed.

It was Miss Bansal who saw me first and seemingly alerted Ishaan regarding the same, making me straighten my posture. Then, Miss Bansal paused on her way and had a brief conversation with Ishaan about God-knows-what.

Done with their conversation, they enter the café together and look at me with a smile. While Ishaan perfectly mastered the art of shooting a confident smile, it was Miss Bansal whose eyes squinted a little as she tried to smile, making me wonder if it was Miss Bansal who had texted me.

“Hello, Maya! Errr… Miss Chatterjee,” Ishaan greeted me and extended his hand for a shake as I stood up from my place and felt ashamed of the past me who had lied about my identity.

“Hello, Ishaan!” I reciprocated his handshake and extended my hand for a shake with Miss Bansal while greeting, “Hello, Miss Bansal.”

“Hi, Miss Chatterjee,” she greeted back with an evidently faux confident smile and reciprocated my handshake.

As Ishaan and Miss Bansal sat together opposite me, I joined them while Miss Bansal asked, “Did you order anything?”

As I nodded a no, there was silence at our table. A silence that screamed that nobody was interested to be here.

“So…?” It was Ishaan, remaining as interested as he was, who tried to initiate the conversation.

“I thought we were here to talk about something,” I spoke up finally, thus brushing off my awkwardness from the corners of my senses. “So, may I know what Miss Bansal was going to say?” I positioned myself at the edge of my seat, my inner self proud of my sudden, boosting confidence.

“Well, yeah…” Miss Bansal paused and looked at Ishaan, then proceeded with her speech. “I know that the thing I would say is unbelievable and uncanny. But, at the end of the day, I fear that there are no choices for you other than trusting me.”

Why do I feel like this girl was telling everything I wished to tell them?

“You know—” I focused deeper into her words as she continued speaking. “— this sounds very surreal to think about and to speak. But, this is a fact. When you posted about Ishaan, I realised that—”

“Yes, you realised that it's time to tell me everything. Well and good. But… What is that everything you're trying to say?” I knew that I was a bitch to interject her like that, but who would like to wait for someone to complete beating around the bush?

Letting out a fed-up exhale through her mouth, she continued, “Okay. So… Imagine this. We live in a universe. You and I. Existing in this world. One world. But, what if there was another world just like ours?” Noticing my frown getting deeper, she continued, “What if there was one world created by you? What if there was a world, which existed only in manuscripts, is actually a real one? What if the Ishaan Ahuja you met at the theatre— and this moment— is your creation for real?”

There was silence as she paused to drink up some water. The one which demanded for some noise and more truth.

“So, let me tell you what happened.”

With that, she explained everything: how she became Ishaan's online friend through emails, how she transitioned to the universe where Ishaan existed and met him there, how she met other characters like Ved Singh and Mehak Trivedi— who was then Mehak Trivedi Singh by getting hitched to Ved— and other trivial characters of my book, how Ishaan and Maahi had a conversation over a phone call at Crapolla Cove (just like how I had planned for prologue of Call It What You Want), how he proposed to her at the meantime, how they're together after him knowing about the real reason of his existence, and how they are here to meet me to get approval from me of their relationship.

After hearing all of the stories, I wished I could believe them but I couldn't. I couldn't believe the fact that she was telling me that I was right about being overly delusional. I couldn't believe that my book was a mirror that reflected a parallel universe. I couldn't believe that this whole stuff was going on already. Like, that sounded obviously false, so it had to be a dream.

But, why was it real?

“Do you want me to believe this?” I raised my eyebrows and folded my hands while I leaned on the chair.

“Oh, come on, Miss Chatterjee!” Miss Bansal raised her voice in an exasperated tone and questioned, “What am I going to benefit by lying to you? And, especially, about this?”

Though she had a point, I replied to her with an, “I know. But… This can't be happening, can it? Travelling from one world to another? I mean, the entire world of science is draining their brains to find a vehicle for that. Nobody had officially acknowledged that Mars is an eligible place to settle. Even travelling to the black hole is totally impossible—”

“Miss Chatterjee, the one you're stating are facts. They are related to science. But, this isn't. No fact can explain the reason behind its existence. I get that you're being pragmatic and realistic, but for this stuff, you need to displace your brain for a while.”

“But…” I paused midway as a sudden thought struck my mind like a thunderclap. “Miss Bansal, how would you like to believe that this Ishaan—” I pointed at Ishaan, who was sitting silent for a very long while. “— is a person from the world I created? What if he was a person from this world? What if you two were conning me?”

Of course, as Miss Bansal said, I find no benefit behind them conning me. But, it wasn't like I wanted to believe them either.

Sighing out of defeat, she suggested, “Fine. I'll propose this plan to you then: you find out for yourself whether he exists in this world or not. Take as much time as you wish to. You can do any kind of research to find this out. This would remain our final meeting if you conclude that Ishaan is from this world. But…” She paused with her tone shifting into something more serious than before. “If you conclude it to be otherwise…” Sighing for another time, she continued, “You'll know it.”

She shot a look as deep as the ocean, making me rethink about the intensity of the issue.

“Okay, Miss Bansal. At least, for my sake, I will look into this,” I assured, warning myself not to let go of this.

***

TWO WEEKS LATER…

“Hey! You okay?” Dhruv asked the first thing he entered the house— upon my call— along with Shaina, who reached the house at the same time coincidentally.

Which man wouldn't ask this if he sees his fiancée in puffy, moist, and red eyes, frizzy hair, and a dress she had been wearing for around 28 hours (a sign that she did all but nothing)?

“Aadya, I asked you. Are you alright?” Dhruv stepped an inch closer and asked in an out-of-characteristic concerned tone.

While I wanted to nod a yes, my mind forced me to nod a no as I broke down again at the sight of seeing my fiance feeling concerned for me. Unable to face him for longer, I leaned on his shoulder and continued crying further with my hand carrying my mobile— which was displaying the chat box of Avinash Chauhan, Consul of Indian Consulate in Milan and Aisha's cousin's best friend's husband— gripping Dhruv's lower arm. Sensing the cold touch of my mobile on his hand, he took it from me and read Mr Chauhan's message. Aloud.

Avinash Chauhan:
Hi, Miss Chatterjee. Mahima told me about you. And, yeah, I searched for the details. But, unfortunately, there is no person with the details you asked for with Italian citizenship. We have even searched from the past 30 years. We regret the inability of finding the required information you asked for.

Me:
Is there any other ways to get the information? I mean, I came to you all as a last resort. There must be other ways, right?

Avinash Chauhan:
As far as I know, I'm sure that there isn't any other way for finding this information. I regret not providing the required information, but I would also like to know whether you have sent us the precise details about the person. I mean, are you sure that he is an Italian citizen? What if he was an illegal immigrant? In that case, you may not procure the information you needed. Are you sure that you're precise about the details?

At that point, I asked, “What do you mean, he was an immigrant? I created him. I know him inside out. I know his background, childhood, teenage, love life, and whatnot. I know things more than his mother does. How can he ask whether I have sent the right information?”

“Uh…” Dhruv paused, possibly searching for words to compose me. Then, he spoke up again, “We’ll talk inside. Come inside, Aadya. Please.”

The way he said “Please” gained some sympathy towards him from me as I broke the hug and led Dhruv and Shaina inside. Sitting on the couch, I placed my hands on the forehead, trying to tackle the extremely painful headache. Shaina, placing her hand on my thigh, asked, “So, is there no way to prove that Ishaan is a real person?”

I shook my head, to which Dhruv asked, “Then, who is he for real?”

“I don't know, Dhruv,” I sighed in exasperation with my tone wobbling a little as I looked up at him. “I don't know.”

“What if that girl was right?” Dhruv countered, his eyebrows developing into a deep frown. “I mean, what if he was from the fictional world, as she claimed it to be?”

All of a sudden, Shaina sat upright and tapped my shoulder incessantly: a sign that something sparked in her mind. “Aadya. She asked us to prove your allegation, and we did. Now, you ask her to prove her statement. What do you say?” She ended with her eyebrows raising and her eyes twinkling.

Though it seemed out-of-the-world, it did sound like a plan.

“Yeah, right! Ask her for that. We'll make a decision when you're convinced of it,” Dhruv added, supporting Shaina while I took my mobile already to text Miss Bansal.

Me:
Hello, Miss Bansal. Thank you for giving me time to prove my statement. And… To give you an update of my process, it's done and unsuccessful. I searched for evidence to prove my evidence but it failed. I get that he's not a person from this world. But, who is he for real? How would you like to prove your statement?

I think that I have a plan for this. You claim that Ishaan is from another world, but where does that exist? What does it look like? I think these answers can be answered only if you take me to that universe. Yes, you read it right. Take me to that world. Prove me that your statements are right and I'll make a decision.

A few hours later, when I was watching Gossip Girl along with Shaina, I heard the mobile ping. Taking it out while Shaina paused the series and called Dhruv to the living room, I read aloud Miss Bansal's reply to my suggestion text.

0dv1k0._.:
Hello, Miss Chatterjee. Glad to know about the result of your statement. And, I would be more than happy to introduce your world to you: who deserves to see that if not you? I will contact you again on the date, time, and place.

“Wow! Sis has some guts indeed!” Shaina commented and let out a lopsided grin.

“I'm Team Advika, though! I mean, nobody could be this confident if they were lying,” Dhruv stated with a proud grin on his face. “What about you, Shay?”

“I'm Team Aadya!” Shaina exclaimed and gave me a side hug while I received another message, that time from Avinash Chauhan.

Avinash Chauhan:
By the way, let me warn you of this as well. I did this at the stake of my career, only for the sake of Mahima. Though I know you won't, I would warn you not to misuse the information I have given you. You will face dire consequences if you break this.

***

TWO WEEKS LATER…

“So, you believe that Ishaan is from the fictional world. Right?” Shaina asked me for the nth time with a no-nonsense look on her face for which I nodded a yes.

I visited an under-construction site (upon Miss Bansal's insistence) two days after she assured me that she would take me to the world I “created”. I ensured that Miss Bansal and Ishaan didn't inject any drug and that I didn't eat too much to get sleepy. I was wide awake for the entire time until Miss Bansal played You Belong With Me and the next thing I saw was myself inside Ishaan's room.

Then, for the rest of the week, I spent time with Ishaan, getting to know about his life and the people involved. I couldn't believe that I had met Fiorella, Ishaan's housemaid, as well. Even before the week ended, I was convinced that I was living in the world I created.

When I came back to the world I lived in, I asked Miss Bansal, “Will everyone who plays You Belong With Me the song move to my world?”

Yes. That's my world as well.

Miss Bansal chuckled and replied, “No. My presence is mandatory to access that world. My friend once tried to go there without my presence and failed.”

“So, what's your plan?” Dhruv asked over the video call.

“I don't know. First of all, let me clear my head. Only then, I can make a decision,” I stated in a firm tone, though the context sounded otherwise. “I didn't know that stuff could get this complicated.”

“Fine, girls. Looks like my boss needs my ass right now. Gotta go. Bye!” Dhruv ended the call, whispering the “Bye”, as Shaina left my room, giving room for my privacy.

As the privacy sunk in, a sense of insecurity from the past week filled my mind. Insecure of why I didn't have access to Ishaan's world instead of a random girl. I mean, I was the one who created that world. So, who had the exclusive right of travelling to and fro the world other than me? But, why wasn't I allowed to go there?

While these insecurities were playing with my mind, an additional fear of letting Ishaan live with that girl walked in my mind to ruin my mental peace. My point was that Ishaan deserves better, not a girl from reality. Ishaan doesn't deserve to live in this world. Or rather, this world doesn't deserve a man like Ishaan. I created Ishaan only as an escape from this world, not the other way around. The idea of him living the rest of his life with a mere girl in this world did nothing but injected fire into my veins.

Then, I took my mobile  from my chest drawer to text Miss Bansal, knowing what should be done to solve this issue.

Me:
Hello, Miss Bansal. First of all, thank you for taking me to my world upon my insistence. I didn't regret visiting that place. The people I created, the places I built, and the events I planned… I never knew that I would be seeing it live (unless it was some movie or series, xD).

Before letting you know my decision, I would like to tell you some things. Ishaan is not just a mere character I created; he's my baby. You know, I've been writing stuff since I was 18. For these seven years, I saw nothing but failure in my career. Yet, I didn't care much about it, hoping to make things better with my next work. Then, YBWM happened. The moment Ishaan came into my life, I was like, “That's it. He's gonna change your life for sure.” I wasn't the only one to say that; my friends, fellow writers, and even my publisher. He came like a cool spring in my life of barren desert.

I created an entire world for the sake of him. I created it for my (little amount of) readers who needed an escape from this fucked-up world where you and I exist. Then, in such a case, how could you expect me to send my man to this world which has nothing but negativity? I mean, you are a nice person. But, I care more about the world we live in than you two. This world is a drainage, Miss Bansal. It ruins everyone who's into it. And, I don't want my child to get ruined by this.

Hence, for the sake of his mental peace, I would like to wave off my red flag for your relationship with him. And, this was a decision I took after all that brainstorming I did. I'm sure that there's no room for further discussion.

Thank you!

A few minutes later, I received a reply from Miss Bansal.

0dv1k0._.:
Hello, Miss Chatterjee. I understand your feelings. But, at the end of the day, I fear that there's no life for him and I without each other. I know that this world is a drainage. But, I promise to give him a life better than the one in your world. I know that you gave him a king-size life in his world (exclusive of Maahi, of course), but I know there's no room for his life to be better without me, now that I'm here. And, it's the same vice versa.

I respect your decision, Miss Chatterjee. But, I love him and so does he. So, I hope you too respect my decision the way I did. And, the same goes for me: there's no room for further discussion.

Thank you!

“That fucking bitch!” I yelled in an out-of-characteristic pitch and raised my hand as if to throw my mobile, but dropped out as Shaina entered the room with a stunned look. As she raised her eyebrows, I yelled, “Why does nobody understand me?”

“Who didn't understand you?” She questioned and frowned a little while I jumped out of the bed while wearing my sneakers and tying my hair into a bun with a claw clip.

“You know what?” I said as I went near her, my breath getting hitched and rugged. “I'm going to show that bitch how it is to gain my wrath.”

***

Ah, there comes the twist, peeps! And also, the trauma!

And, I think Aadya is a big bitch, though. What do you say? Drop your views at the comments' section, peeps!

See you soon!