Shaurya is seated directly opposite of me with a small whiteboard and a marker in hand. Every couple participating is assigned a volunteer who'll be checking our boards for the answers. Ours is an eighteen year old student from the university, Stella. There are more than thirty couples for sure, and all of them are made to sit in the same way as we do, opposingly with a volunteer in the center. Hera and Ryan are standing in the stage with questions ready in their hands.
"First question goes for the ladies. The very basic question, what is your partner's favorite color?"
His favorite color? I don't know. I'm laughing inside because I can lose the whole game with the very first question. But what if I just write some random color and it comes out right? That would be troublesome. I'm thinking now. What would be his least favorite color? He would never write the color he hates since we pledged on honesty before the game started. It's not the dark colors because most of his shirts are of those shades. He adores white and black. Even the pot of Bet is black in color, his car, his mood. I've seen him in blues, reds and yellows. What would be the color that makes him want to die? Pink? Yes, pink it is. Boys are trained to hate that color. Also, maybe it's because he hates pink that he said I looked just fine. He must have hated the color of my saree. Way to go, Tara. After this question, I can just sit back and watch everyone else play.
I write down the word pink in big cursive letters on the board. When we are told to show the board out, the word written on his board matched mine perfectly. Wha-? Woah, woah, woah. I need to calm down. He likes pink? Where did my calculations go wrong? Both of our faces are now perplexed, shocked and surprised. Almost four to five pairs went down on the first one. We must've been in them too. It's just a coincidence, that's all, even though I tried hard to overcome that factor. Nine more tries. I can do this. I can successfully lose.
"Next question to the male population. Who is your partner's best friend growing up?"
I wrote down Daksh's name. And he got that one right. How does he know Daksh? Why is this getting more harder to lose?
The third question. The thing we most likely to argue about. Everything. Our answers matched up well like mirror images. Stella giggled a lot at that answer of ours.
He's not trying to lose. Fourth question is also a failure. The dress I wore on our first date. Only our current situation can be counted more like a date. Saree it is.
Almost twenty couples are gone by now. The room is filled with laughter and embarrassing moments as each couple confused their likes and dislikes, messing up their answers ridiculously. I haven't been able to join them though. How come we reached till the fifth question? I thought we wouldn't even survive the first few. Ryan's face is surprised too as he raised his eyebrows at me impressed. I know, Ryan. I'm impressed at myself for not being able to lose after trying this hard.
"Fifth question for the girls, What's your favorite thing about your partner?"
Something I like about this guy? Well, I could have come up with a list if the question was about the things I hate. His guts, attitude, the overconfident smirk... But fortunately that's not the question, because he knows how much I hate most of the things about him. It's easier to answer. But there's no way he knows what I like about him. I write down my answer and wait for the countdown to finish. Shaurya displayed the board for show with a confident smile on his face. His writing in black marker ink read Dimples. God. Why me? Is it so obvious that I like his dimples? I'm getting flustered now. Confused. Agitated. His smile. I raised my eyes from the board when he caught mine, I looked away in a flash. I can't let him see me like this. Not yet. I thought I could get to eat the rest of my ice creams sooner. All those counters waiting for me.
We matched up the next three answers too, accidently (in air quotes), even after giving my all to make it wrong. I think even he can't get the answer wrong for my most preferred ice cream flavor, which is chocolate of course. My pet name for him and he knows that it is Professor White Shirt. For how long now? I can't even look at him in the eye after this. Word travels faster than light nowadays. Shaurya's worst habit? I wrote ignoring people and it came out right as well. I bet he deliberately wrote it to make it right. Ugh, I'm nervous. Two more questions and most of the couples are out of the game. Still a riddle how we managed to come this far.
"The ninth question for the ladies. What do your partner miss about their childhood?"
Well, for this question, I can only guess. His childhood is very unknown to me. I have way more information on the mystery of pyramids than the mystery about him. I cannot deliberately make it wrong or right, the outcome will be purely coincidental. It would have been my teen life for me if asked, a phase without any responsibilities or care of the world. And I have no idea what his childhood must've looked like. I feel that he misses his home. He has never mentioned about his life in India to anyone, not even to Czes who's like the closest to him in the university. The only thing I know is that he came here to Berkeley for his Bachelor's and have been here since then. He's never once visited his home all those years. No one has seen him talk to his parents or siblings. And if I get this one right, I wouldn't regret it. He should know that it is visible to me, the distance he's forcefully managing to keep with his home.
I am relieved that I got it right. At least I know something about him, even though it was just a hunch. His expression is something I had guessed. He's shocked but sad at the same time. I almost feel sorry for him. Almost because, he made the decision to stay away from his land for whatever reasons and he deserves to experience the consequences as well. Sweat started to trickle down the bare skin below my back. One more question and I have to get this wrong. I've never felt this kind of anguish before. The pressure I'm facing now is a lot to handle. The image of my account balance reading zero is haunting me (exaggeration alert!). I can't let that happen.
"The last question of the first round."
Hera picked up the last card from the table which contained the question in it. The sound of my heart beating echoed in chorus with the vibrations from the microphone. Let this be the toughest question, the most unpredictable one about me.
"The most simple one, What is your partner's favorite nail color? Write it down, gentlemen."
This question couldn't be any more perfect. Nail color? Everyone writes a color as an answer for this question, right? Well, my answer isn't a color. It's nothing. Because I hate nail colors and anything related to growing nails. There's no way he would know that I hate nail colors, since he's never seen me out of work where scientists usually get a chance to make themselves up. I enact myself writing, without the ink touching the board, just to make him think that I am writing something. He scribbles down something himself. Got you.
"3. 2. 1. Present the boards, people."
There's no way this is a coincidence or fate or accident or...
"What the fu-"
I'm standing now, purely an involuntary reaction from my side, as I stare down at his empty board. He's wearing an innocent smile, his head slightly bent in a cocky way. I look around to find everyone's attention on me. Ah, shit. I'm creating a scene. I've been loud, and fortunately regained my mental stability before uttering the curse word in front of all these alumni. I give a nervous compelled laugh.
"I mean, yaay. we win."
I hold out my arms in a victorious cheery way. Yaay. I'm making a fool out of myself. I could feel red hot blood filling up my face. I think the blush I applied at the time of makeup was unnecessary. I am a tomato now.
Hera looked at me confused but with a smile. She thinks I lost my whatever that was keeping me together till now. It's clear in her face.
"That's it for the first round, everyone. Ten couples pass to the next round. Congratulations."
Everyone clapped. All other couples are out including the couple who made me and Shaurya end up as one. Yes, Neil and Helen. I envy them. Czes and Laura passed. Friends know better about each other.
"And all the others who lost, don't forget to use your debit cards, credit cards, internet banking, google pay or any service available to pay your penalty before leaving."
Hera said with the sweetest smile. She got some laughs in return from the crowd. I sprung up from the chair and stomped my way to the place they served wine. I need to drunk-think. Only then it will all make sense. What did I get myself into? If I lose in the next two rounds, then I go bankrupt? Woah, some serious soap opera deserving drama going on here.
I order a glass of Shiraz and wait for the serve. Dark skinned strong red grape variety from Australia. Perfect for the situation I am in right now. A hand pulls the glass on the counter towards him.
"Do you need something this strong?"
I snatch my glass back and touch my lips slightly on it's rim to pause and catch the aroma of the liquid before taking a sip. It smells just as sweet as it tastes, strong on the front of the mouth and on the finish giving a rich and juicy mid feel.
I climb on the nearby bar stool and settle myself.
"How do you know Daksh?"
"You are always on a call with him."
Okay. My bad.
"How do you know I hate nail colors? Don't tell me it was just coincidence because it was not-"
He caught me by surprise when he took my hands in his, this thumb travelling to my colorless flesh-tinged nails. I haven't colored my nail in fifteen years or so.
"Observation."
Of course, but why does he have to observe me so much?
I retrieved my hand not slowly but not too fast either. The movement of charged particles, impulses or whatever the science is behind it, it is not making any progress of fading away.
If I lose the second round, the penalty is a hundred dollars. It's still payable but I can buy a month's brownie ration with that amount. And the third round, it definitely won't be something I can afford. What if I act drunk and get sent home? Or, a heath issue. Headache, maybe? But then I'll miss all of today's everything, the food, the music, the games I want to watch others play, the fun. If I say I don't feel well and sit in the audience enjoying the whole thing, would it look fake? It will, right? After a long mental discussion with the brain parts managing my finance and emotions, I came to this conclusion.
"Aren't you in a profound thought?"
Yeah, lost in thought on how to lose without losing all my money.
"Can you promise me something?"
His eyes went blank, his pupils expanding. He closed his eyes for a second. Those eyelashes. Why do long thick eyelashes belong to men? Same goes for my brother. He took my share of genes of eyelashes even though I was the one who was born first.
"That depends on what-"
"Yeah, on what I'm going to say. I know."
He nodded.
"You must know by now how hard I was trying to lose in the game. You weren't giving me a chance to but."
"But?"
"Just keep doing that. Keep me going."
Because the only option left is to win.