The Makings of a Meet-cute

The Whole Story

Tsk.

There was a reason she believed in Murphy's Law. It was because it made its presence felt in her life over and over again multiple times, leaving no doubt in her mind regarding its existence.

She looked at her watch for the hundredth time. She had told her broker several times that he needed to be on time for this. She had a very important call scheduled in the afternoon that she absolutely could not miss.

And yet, here she sat on the stairs of a building whose address the broker had texted her in the morning, waiting impatiently. She couldn't even ask him to reschedule. She'd been looking for an apartment for ages. From non-existent kitchens to judgmental roommates, she really felt like she was reaching the end of her tether. Apartment hunting felt a lot like her love life at the moment.

Tiresome and disappointing.

She sighed yet again when she heard a Bollywood song play out as a ringtone.

She looked up in sudden hope and saw an older man come up. He pulled out a phone from his pocket. Dressed nattily in a purple shirt and black pants, he had his sunglasses on as he answered the phone.

"Yus, madam! I told you 2 PM toh 2 PM. Where are you? Na na...I have appointment with other client at 2.30 madam. I told you. Time par aane ka! No delays."

She looked down in irritation. Not her broker. How many apartments were up for rent in this building even?

She picked up her phone, poked at her screen in frustration and held it up to her ear. The line was busy. Again.

She picked up her bag and hoisted it on her shoulders roughly. That's it. She just couldn't wait anymore. Another waste of a precious half day.

'Ding'

She was mentally trying to count how many more days of leave she had left when she saw the lift door open. The heavy wooden door swung open easily and the metal doors clanged to the side. She saw a backpack emerge first. She looked down to see shiny black shoes click as the metal doors closed. Just as the wooden door shut in its place, the person turned around and looked directly at her.

Whenever anyone asked her what she was looking for from an apartment, she was never able to list out a specific set of requirements. She would always say that it was a feeling she was looking for. One that showed her living there. One where the vibe was in tune with hers. It was not something she could always check for through pictures. Because it was not a feeling she could put into words. The closest she could say was that the house should make her feel like she was finally home.

Oddly, here in a tiny corridor, as she sat on a dusty staircase, with the sun streaming in from the verandah window behind her, she felt that feeling as she looked into a pair of warm brown eyes.

Eyes that locked in on hers and seemed unable to look away.

If she had to describe the scene later on to her friends, she would say that he probably felt as harried as her, with a crooked tie around the neck and glasses slightly askew. A bead of sweat was all ready to flop off his brow when he took a large square handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped it off. He momentarily broke eye contact and looked around the doors and saw that they were all locked before looking at her again. He then pulled out his phone and tried to call someone. If she could venture a guess, she would say that he was having a day as good as hers. Probably with a goal similar to hers?

He was clearly in a rush. He had probably waded through the heat and crowds of Mumbai to reach this apartment building for...someone who didn't seem to be on time. He looked tired and irritated.

But even with all that going on, he was beautiful.

After a minute or two of trying to call someone on his phone, he gave up and quietly pointed at the large Navtaal on one of the doors and hesitantly asked, "Um...are you here to see the house on rent as well?"