• ISHAAN •

Her baby-like face looked as if it was dipped in a ray of sunlight, complimenting effortlessly with her lemon yellow kurti. The lotus pink lips of hers looked as though it was a painting finished with thick honey. She flipped her short hair behind and adjusted her black-rimmed spectacles while smiling like a doll does.

“Hello, all! So, my unpopular opinion is related to You Belong With Me. I guess, everyone knows it, so that I won't be guilty of the crime of dropping spoilers.”

The other people, sitting in a circle along with her, nodded a yes in unison.

“Haha, that's great! Unlike other people I have come across, including my best friend, I highly believe that Maahi Sharma is a big red flag.”

Though the room fell to total silence, cryptic whispers were heard from the rest of the people.

“I mean it. We all have witnessed that in the initial stage, she romanticised Enzo as her soulmate. Then, as she was dating Ishaan, she made herself believe that she was truly in love with him. But then, she left him high and dry, and left for India to marry her family friend. And? She blocked his contacts, so that he would never be able to reach her and convince her.

Fine. Let us assume that Ishaan was her endgame and her soulmate. We all grew up believing that the power of love is the greatest of all time. It was believed that love can make anyone into anything who they are not. If she was very sure about being with him till the end of her life, she would have fought against her parents to get with him. No matter what happens.

But, instead, she surrendered to fate like a coward and was ready to marry that Indian guy. Why? She wanted a risk-free commitment, which is something nobody would wish to see in their life partner.

Life is all about taking risks over anything and everything. And, love? It is where we all need to take risks. After all, it is about someone with whom you're spending the rest of your lifetime, voluntarily.

So, according to my point of view, one of the important tropes of Ishaan and Maahi is Green Flag X Red Flag, where the red flag is, of course, Maahi.”

***

I opened my eyes with a startle as I realised that I was dreaming of a random (cute) stranger discussing about my fucked-up love story amidst a group of other strangers.

It was when I realised that she had given me delusions, along with many others like depression, anxiety, loss of sleeping cycle, and more.

I sat upright from my gymnastic position and looked at the most cursed person's face: Me. And yeah, I looked like someone who I claim to be lately, with a two-months-old beard, hundred-days-old moustache, three-months-old dark circles below my eyes, and my messy hair that resembled an amalgamation of plastic coil springs.

Throwing off my bedspread that was the representation of my life recently, I strolled to my toilet to do the duties Nature had forced me to do.

The moment I stepped out of the restroom in my velvet blue bathrobe synchronised with the sound of my ringtone Maahi had customised for me. I walked comparatively faster than I always do and carried my mobile as if it was my baby, only to build the urge to break it into pieces.

Yet, I found myself answering the call like an automated machine.

“Yes, I'm successfully alive today as well,” I informed Ved, the bastard of my life, who always calls at the same time to check whether I was alive.

“And, what am I supposed to do? Ask the BBC to create a special story on it?” I imagined him scowling while I placed the mobile on slanting, near my mirror, and removed my bathrobe.

“Oh, please! I would definitely encourage that from you, bro!” I grunted while bending down to wear my brown underwear.

“Fine. Tell me how you feel? Did you sleep well?”

“Well, I went to bed at one and slept at half past three. And… I dreamt of something strange.” I fastened the buttons of my sky blue shirt.

“What? Did you see flying pigs?” I scrunch my nose at the thought of me dreaming of flying pigs.

“Eww! Not that. I saw a girl—”

“Not again, Ishaan. Tell me it's not—”

“It's not her.” I heard my voice echo boom through my room like how they do in the Indian dramas. Or it is just my hallucination. I sensed a “Who was she?” question from Ved, for which I replied, “I don't know who she was, but it was a girl. Someone extremely beautiful.”

“Oh, wow! Do you still remember the art of simping, dude?” Ved asked how it would sound if he asked, “Are you friends with Giorgia Meloni?”

“Yeah, unfortunately, I do.” I rolled my eyes at the realization while polishing my chocolate brown shoes. “She was—”

“Let me guess. Was she naked?”

I mock-gagged— that was all I could do for what he had said— and added, “That's something you will imagine with Mehak. Not me. Not now.”

“Okay, dude. Chill. What was that ‘someone extremely beautiful' girl doing in your dreams?”

“She was discussing my love life with a group of people. She… She called her a red flag.”

“She called whom a red flag?” Ved emphasised on the word “whom”.

“You know who… Ved.” I emphasised on his name as if to say, “Stop being such a dorkhead.”

“Oh! I got it,” he sang it and added, “Okay. She was right. But, why would a random stranger discuss your ex to a group?”

“I don't know. She was discussing it as if she was talking about some… Movie?” I tilted my head to my left while checking whether I had packed everything for my office.

“Interesting. Even a few days ago, I had a dream of playing soccer and being awarded as the Winner of the Series.”

“That doesn't make you a Ronaldo, man!” I rolled my eyes again and walked out of my room with my bag.

“Likewise, that doesn't make you a Ryan Gosling, dude!”

“Duh, I never said that I was.” Sitting down on my couch with a plate of white sauce pasta— made by my housemaid Fiorella— and Tequila Sunrise, my mobile was sandwiched between my ear and my shoulder as I had tuned in to the news channel.

“Okay. And, Ishaan. I forgot to tell you this. Mehak and I are going to an Indian restaurant. You better join us, or you'll regret missing those yummy Naan and Chicken tikka masala,” Ved gave a formal warning while the mention of Naan made my mind go back to those days where I learnt to cook them for her.

Faking a chuckle, I replied, “Sure. I will do it.”

“Okay. Go to your office soon. Or else, you will end up getting scolded by that lady. Okay? Bye!”

He disconnected the call, letting his friend go physically present yet mentally absent.

It had been 184 days, 13 hours, and 49 minutes since the drive of our love story had lost midway, leaving me to lose my mind. It had been a multitude of sweet moments since she had got multiple options and chose one over me. It took 184 days for her to forget me, but it had been 184 days since I realised that I would never forget her even after 184 ages.

Washing the dishes and gulping down the last shot of my Tequila Sunrise, I stood in front of my comfort zone as I already had my weapons. I opened the lid of my marker, scribbled my random thoughts on my yellow Post-it, and stuck it on my notice board; like I always did for the past six months.

I looked back at my notice board for one last, my mind hovering around my latest scribble.

Day 184

Her world is in flame yellow while mine is in charcoal black, waiting to burn in the red fire of love.

I

***

How was Ishaan's POV, peeps? He must be some "true love" type, right? But, as the "random, cute stranger" said, Maahi is supposed to be a red flag.

And... Who do you think that "random stranger" from Ishaan's dream could be? (not a surprise, but still...)