The First Meeting

It was late August.

I was on my way to Godavari from Vizag. It was unusually humid, and I was gazing outside at the lush green rice fields while remembering my sister’s words -

“You better come to Godavari to watch my violin program and take good pictures with that pricey phone of yours. Else, you’re gonna regret it”.

The silence that followed from her while staring at me and my dad made him book the tickets to go there immediately.

She left with my mom to attend the rehearsal on Friday, we started on Saturday.

The reason we started a bit late was that I couldn't bear the thought of having to watch their group yell at each other, claiming they weren't the ones who made a mistake. This is typically followed by a blaming session that lasts around an hour, which remains unresolved.

We planned to stay the night at my aunt’s house, roam around the city until the next evening and then go to the music hall.

After their rehearsal concluded, my mom called me to ask about our plans. After we spoke for a while my mom mentioned a girl, a year younger than me, who would also be taking part in the same performance as my sister. I said “Oh! Is it so, that’s good” because anything more would activate her sixth sense, leading her to assume that I would hit on her the next day after the performance, even though I don’t even have the slightest intention to do that.

As I was immersed in my thoughts while admiring the scenery through the window, we reached Godavari.

Everything went according to plan, and it was evening. Four of us- me, my dad, aunt, and uncle went to the music hall.

After completing the necessary stage preparations, including announcements and speeches, everything was in place for the performance to commence. The stage was ready, eagerly awaiting the unfolding of the show.

If I had known what was going to happen at that moment, I would have brought a camera with me. It was a significant moment in my life that I wanted to capture and preserve as a cherished memory.

The curtains rose. My eyes, instead of finding my sister, were instantly captured by a girl who shone the brightest among other artists. Beautiful hair that moved as smooth as silk every time a slight breeze brushed through her, and dark brown eyes that drew me in every moment I made eye contact with her. Her simple yet beautiful clothes matched her slender body. Her face, although she had a bit of make-up on, looked like that of a goddess who accidentally stumbled upon Earth and chose to grace this planet with her beautiful presence. The way her fingers moved, gently playing the violin whose sound was unique enough for my mind to be focused and mesmerized by.

Although my mind was filled with her presence, my brain did not forget the purpose of my visit. Such was the fear etched into our family by my dear sister. Saying she has her way is an understatement.

I filmed the entire program. While my eyes were stuck on her, my hands filmed the program, highlighting her subtly enough that the ones who’re gonna watch the video won’t notice my desperation.

After a few minutes, they paused playing as the curtains closed for a break. A few minutes later, the curtains rose again, and I couldn’t see her anywhere. Her place was empty, and I thought that was the end of my luck.

That girl was talented enough to play violin on par with her teacher. It was a feat that even my sister, who is exceptionally good when it comes to the violin, couldn’t achieve.

An announcement about a special dance performance lifted my spirits again. She came onto the stage with a new outfit that was even prettier than the earlier one.

For ten minutes, a goddess descended from heaven and danced in front of us. I was awestruck for a second, but my body acted fast. It was a golden opportunity to exclusively film her, and I had no reason to hide my desperation since I’d be showing that video to my mom and sister, the two classical dance enthusiasts in our family.

I admired her as she danced gracefully. After a while, the performance ended.

They distributed mementos for every performer while announcing their names. Then I heard her name - “Mythili”. It was the first time I felt happy about being named Ram since I was astronomically far from being the perfect man in the universe.

With eagerness in my eyes, I waited for the moment she came down after the curtains fell. Although she came down and was surrounded by many people praising her for her hard work, I hesitated to talk to her since it was my first time meeting her, and she would feel creepy about a random guy, whom she’d never met before, showering her with compliments.

I thought that her first impression of me shouldn’t be weird but smooth. She slowly started walking in my direction, I was trembling while thinking what my first few words should be so that she wouldn’t be creeped out.

Like a guardian angel, my mom stood in front of me and started talking to her, I was staring at her while thinking - “Did she sense my thoughts? Such a caring mom I have...”. My mom turned around and said, “This is my son”, she gestured for me to introduce myself. I thanked her in my

heart for providing me with such a wonderful opportunity and introduced myself.

Since I used to play an instrument and had a fair knowledge of music, I complimented her not in the usual way but in a more sophisticated manner which seemed to have done the trick. She kept smiling and enjoyed our conversation which lasted for five minutes. She said she noticed me filming the program. I stared into her eyes with positive expectations.

A few minutes later.

We had each other's contact info. And I was about to share the videos I took, with her.

She was very outgoing and cheerful. She took the first initiative to exchange contact info right after my compliment shower. I held back my grin while feeling proud that my plan worked well.

I didn’t talk too much about unnecessary stuff and kept the conversation short and simple because I planned to ask my sister everything that she knew about her, the price of which I thought would be a watch she had been eyeing for the past few weeks and a trip to her favorite, expensive dessert shop that would leave me broke for the coming few weeks.

We headed home after the program ended. As I was traveling, it rained for a while. I was playing with the raindrops that hung onto the rods outside the bus window while thinking all about the stuff that happened earlier.

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