Siddharth Kumar

It had been four months since we last met, and our relationship was going through a rough patch. Despite being together for four years, we had rarely lived in the same city, let alone together. Essentially, we were two people who fell in love and then spent years trying to iron out our differences. Typically, you fall in love with someone when your personalities align, but love is strange that way.

I had a flight to catch to Hyderabad, where I met my girlfriend on my birthday. She came to pick me up at the airport but was an hour late. We checked into a hotel and spent the night there. I slept like a baby, which was rare in my otherwise restless life.

People say you feel drowsy around the person you love because they make you feel safe, like a baby dozing off in its mother’s lap. Meeting my girlfriend was my own version of sleep therapy. Of course, this often made me a rather dull person to live with. I don’t, mostly can’t, watch movies because they require a level of patience I no longer possess, given my mental state and the weight of everything on my plate. It felt like everything was slipping through my fingers. And to top it off, I always fell asleep beside my girlfriend whenever we tried to watch anything.

But I’m nothing if not determined. After sleeping nearly the entire day and night, I finally managed to stay awake (mostly) while we watched Jab We Met. I also wanted to make our three-day stay enjoyable, something that, according to her, was a rare occurrence. We decided to take a stroll around Hussain Sagar Lake, but not without first having a fight in the cab. As usual, halfway through our walk, my lazy legs started aching, and she wasn’t thrilled about that. I rarely saw her, and when I did, either I was glued to my laptop finishing endless work or dealing with a slew of health issues, or what some would call tantrums. In the end, we decided to “stroll” in a cab and booked a ride to a restaurant on the outskirts of the city.

The moonlit 40-minute drive passed mostly in silence, broken only by failed attempts to discuss marriage plans. As usual, the conversation ended quickly when we disagreed on the timeline. Turns out, Google Maps wasn’t accurate. We found the restaurant five kilometers before the marked location. The driver wasn’t thrilled when we ended the ride early.

The restaurant looked new, bright lights, a big parking lot, and the typical “indie” live music scene. It seemed like a decent place to eat. The crowd was quiet, with minimal chatter, and the inside was dimly lit, so much so that I couldn’t even see people’s faces. The music had an oddly eerie tone. We took a table on the open rooftop, where the wind was chilly and soothing. In the distance, we could see Hyderabad flickering, surrounded by vast, empty land. The sound of wind sweeping over the paddy fields drowned out the music.

After spending ten minutes deciding what to eat, we ordered drinks first, two Piña Coladas, and then debated what food to get. Strangely, the waiter wore a face mask, two years after Covid had subsided. I pulled out my phone to take a picture of the view, but the moon had disappeared behind the clouds. My girlfriend excused herself to the bathroom, and I started scrolling through reels on my phone. The drinks arrived quickly, but ten minutes passed, and she hadn’t returned. I called her, but there was no answer.

I went downstairs and wandered around the parking lot, feeling uneasy. Something wasn’t right, all the cars had the same license plate number. My heart raced. I looked up and saw the waiter standing at our table, staring at me. He waved, signaling that our food had arrived. But we hadn’t ordered any food. I could see the moon now, right above him. My nerves were on edge, but I decided to return to the table and wait for my girlfriend. As I climbed the stairs, I noticed the other tables were empty, everyone had finished eating and left. Yet, the music continued, and I could still hear the clattering of dishes from the kitchen.

Back at the table, I asked the waiter to check on my girlfriend. “Also, we haven’t ordered any food,” I said. “It’s complimentary, sir. You’ll love it,” he replied. Ignoring him, I asked again for my girlfriend. “Your wait is over, sir. She’s here,” he said, lifting the lid off a large bowl. I gasped, unable to breathe, and suddenly woke up.

My girlfriend was lying beside me, holding my hand. “What happened?” she asked. I smiled, hugging her tightly. “I love you,” she whispered. An hour later, we finally set off to see the lake.