Oakland International Airport
It's a twenty minute ride to our apartment that my cousin Ridha arranged for us (she's such a sweetie). The us includes just me and Hera. Ryan will be staying with Dr. David in an apartment next to ours. I am so exhausted right now that if they let me, I'll sleep the night off on the airport floor. There's a slight misunderstanding. It's morning here.
"How long should we wait?"
"They'll be here any minute. Don't be impatient."
Ryan was annoyed at my annoyance. I mimicked his reply immaturely. Google even has a term for it- an ad hominem attack. It's something people do when we know we can't win an argument.
"Tara, go sit down. I'll go check on them." Hera's eyes were glued to her phone.
With all the sitting throughout both the flights that took me here, I was happy to stand for a while but now..
"What? No. I'll stand. I don't want to sit. No way I'm sitting."
"Woah, okay. Cool down will ya?"
"She's just grumpy after the flight."
Ryan assured Hera and she gave him a nod. She took her phone to talk to someone and walked away. Hera and Ryan are three years older than me which explains their sisterly and brotherly acts towards me. Especially after my mom gave them the responsibility of taking care of me before leaving to Berkeley. They're still my best friends, just a little extra protective and I don't hate it. They actually completed their doctorate program in clinical virology just a few weeks back, but are not officially Dr. Hera Singh and Dr. Ryan Davis yet. Their project here is a collaborate one with the neurology department of this university. Hera was going on about the professor who's going to work with them. The only thing I remember from her conversation of him is that... Nothing.
"How's she able to call?"
"Connect to the airport Wi-Fi."
I must be losing my peace of mind with each minute's delay of me falling into my bed. A nice shower and sleep. That's all I want now. I pull out my phone from my sling bag and switch it on. I thought I'll call mom when I reach the apartment but the sooner the better. I choose the voice call beneath my mom's profile. Video call is not an option cause my parents will be terrified to see my like this. Messy hair, falling out on to my black t-shirt from all sides (just too tired to retie it). Unlike Hera who was ready with all her make up on- she had all kinds of accessories in her sling bag. All I have are my pods, candies and more candies. My face was yellowish due to sleep deprivation. There was a very recent, big, red wine stain on my light blue jeans which happened from the flight (I may be a little clumsy). The travel bag I carried on my back was nearly as big as me. My left hand was clasped on my trolley's handle tight- not likely of it being rolling away from me but still, it's a childhood fear of mine. Mom picks up almost immediately after the call started.
"Did you reach the apartment, Tara?"
"No, mom. I'm still at the airport."
"Did you find Ridha?"
"No, mom. She should be waiting outside with her car."
"Why are you making her wait, Tara? She's already doing us a lot of help."
"I know, mom. Apparently some people from the university are coming to the airport to receive us. I've informed Ridha about this before and she's okay with it. So don't worry. Wait, I've already told you too."
"I must have forgot. Well video call me when you reach. Eat something properly before dozing off-"
Ryan nudged me with his elbow and I nudged him back out of habit. He gestured me to come along and I nodded shifting my attention back to mom.
"... how was the food?"
"It was fine, mom."
I saw Ryan walking towards our other team members and started pushing my trolley forward in the same direction.
"Did they give you alcohol in the flight?"
"No, mom. They didn't." I better not bring up the wine incident.
"Don't bother Ridha too much, got it? Also don't stay up late... "
I walk traced the same path Ryan went, my eyes following his shoes as I continued dealing with my mom's advisories. She does have a lot to say every time I call her or she called me, even when we lived under the same roof. Once I reached the crowd, I settled the trolley beside me, my left hand still on it's handle and looked up to see three men standing facing us, in shirts and pants, so professional looking and pleasant, giving their greetings and introductions to the team.
"Mom. I've got to go. Tell dad and Aarav that I reached safe and sound."
"Give us a video call when you reach."
"Sure, mom. Bye."
I hung up the call and turned back to see what was going on around. Everyone were shaking hands with the new professors (new to us). Dr. David shook hands with one of the professors, Benjamin Harold, if I overheard it correctly, looked older than Dr. David, maybe in his mid fifties, with most of his blonde hair turned white. They chit chatted a while about the travel and their upcoming meeting. It was easy to point out the university professors since all of us others were in our casual outfits. I caught the next professor, most likely to be in his early thirties, standing with a group of my team members, giving the frame of his glasses a gentle touch every now and then. He seemed relaxed trying to get his name correct from each person he introduced himself to. With each time they got his name wrong, he seemed unaffected by it, as if he was used to this for a long time now. He caught me staring at him and then smiled. He approached me, with the smile still intact on his face.
"Should I give it a try?"
He chuckled and put his left arm forward for a shake. A left hander.
"Czeslaw Milosz."
I freed my left hand from the trolley handle and shook his. Is the trolley rolling away?
"What was it again?"
I smiled sarcastically and he chuckled again. Wow, it's easy to make him laugh.
"It's a poet's name, isn't it?"
"You know him?" His words were filled with amusement.
"I've read about him somewhere. Polish, huh?"
"Yes and you haven't said my name yet."
"Czeslaw Milosz, it's my pleasure."
I smiled. It's actually pronounced 'shezvof'. And I'm pretty sure I messed up his last name. As soon as I finished my greetings his face lit up.
"Even though you botched up my last name, you are qualified."
It was my turn to laugh. He is a nice fella, I'll tell you.
"You can call me Czes." That's much easier.
"Sure, see you around."
"You didn't say your name."
"Oh, sorry. It's Tara Menon, neurology department."
"Then we'll be seeing each other more often than expected."
I gave him a confused look and he laughed nervously.
"I'm in the neurology department too."
"Oh, that's great."
It is actually great to have someone you know in the same department, since it's just me and Dr. David from our team in neurology. Also Hera and Ryan will be busy with their new professor and their project. He gave a little parting smile and a nod before walking towards professor Benjamin. Or Harold? I am still not familiar with how people address each other, is it the first names attached with their honorifics or the last name? There was one more of the professors I've to meet and I got to see his crisp white shirt and that's about it. As I walked towards where I last saw Ryan, I caught a pair of eyes staring at me. An Indian. He looked young, probably a year or two older than Ryan. And he's a professor already? That thought blew my mind. Getting a doctorate is one thing but being appointed as a professor at this young age, it is not something you get to see everyday. He must be a real genius. It's unfortunate that I didn't get to hear his name. I should ask Hera first thing after he leaves.
"I'm Hera Singh. It's nice to meet you finally." She was smiling her eyes out and he just gave a small nod in reply.
"Ryan Davis." They shook hands.
So this was the person Hera was talking about. The young and handsome professor they are working with. Did she mention that he is Indian? I looked up at him only to notice that he was still staring at me. And what's with the expression on his face? Something surprising. No more like shocking. And a mix of disgust? It's hard to read him. I looked at Hera and she smiled at me brightly. She looks so happy to finally having met him and he seems to not even care. Or it is not him at all. And when I returned to reality from my train of thoughts, his eyes were still on me. This was getting awkward. I looked down at my clothing feeling a little self aware. Of course, it should be my outfit or why else would he have a what's-this-woman-doing-here look on his face. I do look like I jumped out of a Jurassic Park movie. His stare moved from the wine stain on my jeans, which I tried to cover with my sling bag, to my left hand which was still holding the trolley tight in place, his stare making me clench it more tightly, then to my messy hair which I was desperately trying to fix back and then finally his eyes pierced straight into my eyes. I felt my body jolting back as if I had been hit by a bullet. His stare was making me nervous and for some real bad reasons exciting too. Should I start staring back? Because it feels like a one sided staring contest and I don't feel so comfortable about it. My heart is racing faster than normal and my skin is sweating in an air conditioned space. This is not normal either. To ease out the eerie vibe wrapped up around us, I try a polite smile. His light brown eyes moved to my curved lips and back to my eyes. He didn't smile back. What the... Ryan and Hera turned their heads slightly to look at me (I was trying to hide myself behind them) and Hera raised her right eyebrow up indicating that it was time for me to introduce myself. I took a little step closer so that I'm in the vicinity for conversation. I pulled out my best smile and offered my right hand for a shake. His shoulders tensed a bit. Did I imagine it?
"I'm Ta-"
He cut me off and turned to Hera.
"May I have a minute?" He asked Hera completely avoiding my presence.
"Sure."
I dropped my midway raised hand back to it's place. Hera looked at me apologetically and walked away with the Indian I met who turned out to be an asshole. He walked fast talking to her, she barely managing to keep up with his long strides. He is tall, not very tall, but a lot taller than Hera. Everyone is taller than Hera, to be honest. I am too. Suddenly I felt ashamed of stalking someone who just insulted me big time. I must be going insane. I turned back to Ryan to stop myself from doing any more observations. If I were to describe myself after this particular incident- my mood to be precise- I must resemble someone who just lost the last piece of brownie from her favorite cake shop to an arrogant lady in big furry blazer. I felt angry and sad. More like defeated. I guess I expected him to smile back and introduce himself just like everyone else did. Anger flooded through me as I flounced into the seating area and took a seat to calm myself down. Ryan followed me.
"I thought you didn't want to sit." Perfect time for jokes, Ryan.
"Where can I get a brownie right now?"
He took me to the only coffee shop in the airport and we ordered a brownie each. As soon as our brownies were served, Ryan, sitting across from me, munched a mouthful of his brownie. At that exact moment a scene flashed through my mind. Hera sitting on a bar stool beside me at the coffee bar we usually visit in our break, stuffing a donut into her mouth while she said-
"His name is Shaurya Harshenn. He's an Indian too. How cool, huh?"
As I tried enjoying the brownie that was placed in front of me, I realized I shouldn't have remembered that name at all.