Beautiful Nights - Night 5

"Your writing is truly heartfelt; that's why your readers can resonate with the emotions you convey," remarked Kanish.

"I'm thrilled that you enjoyed my New Trilogy," I responded enthusiastically.

"Yes, tremendously," he replied, assuredly.

Curious, I inquired, "What did you think of the final chapter?"

"Full of twists, a real roller coaster ride," he answered.

I chuckled and took a sip of sugarcane juice, a refreshing choice for the warm day in Navi Mumbai. The three of us were seated in the food court, just outside our office building.

Our colleague, Avantika, observed us with a puzzled expression, intrigued by our animated conversation. "What on earth are you two talking about?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Have you forgotten? Our colleague happens to be a writer," Kanish teased mischievously. Avantika and Kanish shared playful glances, a testament to the camaraderie they had developed over their three years at Star Light Corporation.

"I haven't forgotten. I know he's a writer," Avantika responded, narrowing her eyes and making a face at Kanish in response to his playful banter.

"Do you?" he teased further.

"You guys are discussing his blogs, aren't you?" she guessed.

"Yeah," I confirmed, finding the situation amusing.

"She probably hasn't even read them," Kanish laughed. Avantika shot him a comical, mock-angry expression, attempting to express her offence in a lighthearted manner.

"Just so you know, I've read two nights, and I'm saving the last, the third night, for a special occasion," Avantika remarked with a touch of sarcasm. It was evident that their banter was a reflection of their strong friendship.

"I doubt you've even read two lines," Kanish teased, chuckling at his own remark. I cautiously kept my amusement in check, wary of Avantika's potential reaction.

"I've read Two Nights—the dinner date, sweet moments, the beautiful description of delicate events," Avantika responded to Kanish.

Feeling a bit awkward, I interjected, "I don't think it was a dinner date. We just met over dinner for the first time. Chubby Cheeks and I don't see it that way."

"You know, Parth, I absolutely loved the first part of the trilogy. The realistic and sweet flow of events in the story made it feel like it actually happened, and you just penned it down," she expressed, seemingly captivated by the narrative.

Kanish couldn't contain his laughter. He knew that the stories I wrote were deeply rooted in my own experiences and cherished memories.

"Shut up," Avantika playfully scolded him, but his laughter only intensified. I pressed my lips together to stifle my own amusement.

"In the second part, the story ends with a mystery about whether they'll meet again or not," she explained, pausing to reflect on her uncertainty. A sense of anxiety lingered as she pondered what the third part might hold. "I feel like the ending will be bittersweet, you know? In realistic stories, they often don't meet again. But deep down, I really want them to, although I can't shake this negative feeling that she won't meet him."

Kanish burst into laughter again, drawing attention from those around us. This time, even I couldn't hold back my amusement. I must confess, that witnessing readers engrossed in my stories, eliciting such reactions, makes me feel blessed to evoke emotions through my words. In these moments, I believe I am a good writer, though I acknowledge my continuous effort to become the best, aspiring for that one day in the future.

"Sometimes I wonder," Avantika mused, "if such events could happen in reality and not just in stories or movies." Her expression hinted at a yearning for experiences akin to those she encountered in the tales she immersed herself in.

"I don't know what I felt in that moment, but it's real, Avantika," I assured her.

"What do you mean?" she asked, seemingly jolted out of her thoughts.

"I met someone in Pune, and what you've read in the blogs..."

"Are all those real events?" she interrupted, seeking reassurance.

I smiled gently, leaving her momentarily puzzled. She glanced at Kanish, who sported a mischievous smile and nodded approvingly, confirming that it was indeed real, a fact he seemed to take pride in, having known it all along.

"Should I tell you what happens in part 3?" Kanish teased.

"Shut up, don't spoil my story," Avantika retorted. Then she turned to me and inquired, "Can you show me her picture? I'm so curious to see the girl you described so beautifully in your blogs."

I smiled and retrieved my mobile phone, sensing Avantika's bubbling excitement. As I opened my phone's gallery, I teased, "I won't reveal her name, but you can see her picture." Displaying my favourite snapshot of Chubby Cheeks, I shared it with her.

"Oh, she's pretty," she commented softly, and I extended the mobile screen for Kanish to see as well. It was his first time glimpsing her image. Avantika continued, "I can see that the description of her beauty is justified. She's really..."

"Beautiful, isn't she?" I chimed in with a bright, proud smile.

Kanish couldn't resist a playful dig, saying, "Look at his face."

"Aww, you smile when you talk about her. That's so cute," remarked Avantika. "You love her, don't you?"

Feeling a bit awkward, I hesitated, "Um, I don't know if... if I actually love her yet. I mean, I've only met her twice."

"Oh, so you guys meet again on Night 3?" she wondered but immediately regretted her question, saying, "Don't answer that. I want to read it first."

I chuckled, "Well, I can tell that I like her."

"Aww."

"But I don't think I'm in love with her yet. I still need to know her more as a person and see how compatible we are for each other. So, until then, I'm trying to be emotionally detached from her."

"You can't be emotionally detached from the people you like, Parth," Avantika asserted.

I grinned, appreciating Avantika's response.

"Let's get back to work now. Enough chit-chat," suggested Kanish.

"Yeah," agreed Avantika.

As we three strolled back towards our office, I turned to Avantika, asking, "Would you mind sharing your thoughts once you finish the final part of the Beautiful Nights Trilogy?"

"Absolutely," she replied instantly. "I'd love to share my reaction to the story. It's not every day you come across colleagues who write such beautiful stories."

"You work with one," Kanish pointed out. "Komal."

"Oh, right. How could I forget? That little girl has an interest in writing."

"Komal? The newbie in your team?" I inquired.

"Yup, that's the one."

The day, as usual, stretched into the late hours, a consequence of working the UK shift. This schedule had disrupted the rhythm of my day – no fixed timing for meals, irregular sleep, and a perpetual sense of fatigue. Food became an ongoing concern, taking a toll on my health.

Amidst the busyness, my friends were engrossed in their own lives. Despite the physical distance, I managed to sustain a modest connection through texts and memes. Phone conversations were infrequent, but when they did happen, they extended to half an hour or more.

I longed for the ability to engage in lengthy conversations with Chubby Cheeks, but I struggled to express the things I truly wanted to share with her. It was a peculiar frustration that had gripped me recently. Consequently, my only outlet was to pen down my unspoken thoughts, uncertain if they held any significance for her.

Beyond 11:30 at night, an hour since I had returned home from work, I sat in contemplation. These solitary moments at night, after being surrounded by people all day, served as a form of self-healing. I valued this time alone – a chance to reconnect with my inner self amidst the hustle.

Eventually, I reached for my phone, though my eyes stung from staring at the computer screen all day. Despite the discomfort, I checked for any reactions or messages from Chubby Cheeks.

There were none.

I wrestled with the urge to throw my phone, reminding myself of the costly consequences. Yearning for a daily text from her, I believed it could dispel my lethargy and infuse a renewed vigour into my routine. Her messages held the power to transform my entire day.

In an attempt to shift my focus, I decided to immerse myself in reading books. However, even amid the pages, her thoughts lingered, undermining my capacity to concentrate. It was at this point that I acknowledged a deeper sentiment – perhaps, I genuinely liked this girl.

Just as I was lost in these thoughts, my phone buzzed with a text alert. Overwhelmed with excitement, I cast aside the book and snatched up my phone, anticipating her message. To my disappointment, it was merely a friend reacting to a meme, not the awaited text from Chubby Cheeks.

"Aah! Come on," I muttered, irked at my phone, as if it were to blame for not receiving her text. 

I went to bed, attempting to avoid dwelling on negative thoughts, but despite my efforts, I succumbed to overthinking before eventually falling asleep.

The following day at the office, I received a text from Sanika Ma'am in response to my inquiry about whether she had read my new blogs. As I opened the text, I discovered it was actually a voice note. Quickly, I plugged in my earphones, put them on, and played the message.

"Padha na... padha na tumhara blog... kitti BEAUTIFUL hai ladki," her voice echoed through the earphones, followed by her infectious laughter.

I chuckled in response. Her reaction was both sweet and amusing, and it warmed my heart. Despite not needing to talk frequently, Sanika Ma'am and I shared a strong bond. Whenever we met after a long hiatus, it felt as if our last conversation had been just yesterday. Time and distance had a way of breaking weak relations while strengthening genuine ones.

Sanika Ma'am crossed my mind, and I reminisced about the last time we met. It happened on the same day I went for dinner with Chubby Cheeks, and I shared details about her with Ma'am afterward.

To share the joy, I forwarded the voice note from Sanika Ma'am to Chubby Cheeks. In our conversation, I had often spoken about this remarkable teacher with whom I shared a special bond. Chubby Cheeks was pleasantly surprised to discover the depth of friendship one could have with a teacher.

Late at night, I received Chubby Cheeks' reaction to the voice note. She found it amusing and texted, "This professor of yours, she sounds so sweet."

"You should meet her once," I suggested.

"Perhaps one day," she responded.

In response, I simply sent a heart emoji to convey my agreement.

Mondays and Tuesdays meant working from the office, with weekends just around the corner – a time to converse peacefully with my loved ones, including Chubby Cheeks.

As soon as I logged out on Friday, the weekend kicked off, marked by sorting out clothes for washing on Saturday. While weekends might not always live up to the exciting plans we conceive during the workweek, I found solace in writing, reading, and, most importantly, engaging in heartfelt conversations with my loved ones.

At around 11 in the morning on Saturday, my mom gave me a call.

"Good morning, son."

"Hey, Mum. How are you?" I asked.

"I'm good. I was worried about you. How are you?"

"You don't have to worry about me. My health is good."

"And your mind?"

"Oh, come on. Don't start nagging me."

"How's that girl you met recently?" she inquired, making it difficult for me to control my blushing. "You can tell me about her once you are done blushing," she teased.

"Mom, come on. I am not blushing."

"Yes, you are."

I closed my eyes, feeling embarrassed about how well she caught me there. "Yes, I am. You don't have to embarrass me about it."

"I am just having fun. And it is such fun to tease you like this," she laughed.

"Ha-ha, very funny," I reacted sarcastically.

"Now tell me how is she, what does she say?"

"She says nothing. And I'll probably have a talk with her tomorrow night."

"Why not tonight? Why are you wasting your today?"

"She might have some plans; it's the weekend, so she might be going out somewhere with her friends."

"And you're just gonna spend your weekend reading and writing, aren't you?"

"Washing clothes too."

"Boy, you need to have a social life."

"Mom, you have an introverted kid."

"I know. I must admit I was pretty impressed that you actually went to Pune just to meet that girl. That was huge."

"I just had a curiosity to meet her. Chats with her were so... interesting."

"Wow, you can find someone interesting too? I'd be damned," nagged Mom. "Do you have a curiosity to visit your hometown next month?"

"Why? What's in the next month?"

"Diwali and also my birthday, in case you have..."

"I haven't forgotten, Mom."

"I know. Just checking."

"Through your nags." I took a pause while she had her laugh. "I'll talk with my team leader and manager about coming home. I am a new guy in this team, and I am going through a ramping phase, so I'll see what I can do."

"You do want to come home, don't you?"

"Of course, Mom. It's been ages since having your food." A quiet moment followed after those words. "I miss you, Mom."

"Oh, you do? I thought you missed only that girl."

"Mom!! Not again."

She had her laugh. I don't know why, but she finds great pleasure in teasing me over the things that truly annoy me. Maybe she confirms some things from my reactions.

"Come home soon, son," she said gently.

"I will, Mom. I will."

"Till then take care of yourself and try to muster some courage to call her. I don't know why you should still be scared to call her after meeting her."

"Okay, Mom, bye. It was nice to talk with you. I love you so much. Bye."

Around 9:30 at night, I mustered the courage to call her, but she didn't pick up. The rejection stung, and a wave of embarrassment washed over me. Questions flooded my mind – does she not want to talk to me? Is she finding me boring? Could she be interested in someone else? Has she gone out with someone else? My overthinking showed no mercy, subjecting my heart to a torturous emotional hell on that Saturday night.

It felt as if even my soul had dried up.

Sunday passed in a haze of reading a few chapters of a novel, lying idly in bed, and contemplating what to discuss with Chubby Cheeks. Despite my efforts, I knew I wouldn't be able to articulate any of the thoughts I had in mind.

Anticipation built up for the night, especially around 9:30 to 10 when I hoped she would be finished with her other engagements, including social time. For me, the desire to hear her voice before going to sleep on Sunday night was overwhelming. I was eager to engage in a phone conversation with her.

So, around 9:30, I called her again, and once more, she didn't pick up.

An intense agony enveloped me, and I felt like an utterly foolish person, though I couldn't quite fathom why.

I've had enough. It seems like she couldn't care less. Maybe she's concluded that I'm not worth her time, just an idiot boy in her eyes. I feel utterly hopeless. Perhaps, I'm destined to end up alone.

I would drop everything to answer her call, even during work hours or when I'm with my friends. Yet, when I call her, she doesn't bother to pick up. Damn it. I can't stand her. Even more, I despise myself for craving her attention. Why do I even care to talk to her? "Because you like her," whispered the voice in my heart. The frustration overwhelmed me, and I put on my headphones, drowning my annoyance in Eminem songs.

If she calls me, I'll show her how angry I am. I won't answer.

Around 10:30, she calls back, and I immediately pick up the call.

"Hey, sorry. You must be mad at me for not calling you back soon," she says as soon as I answer.

"Naah, not at all. You must be busy with something else," I reply, feigning nonchalance. Sometimes, I can't stand myself.

"Actually, I was. Yesterday, I was busy arranging so many things, and then friends came to my flat, and they made plans to go out."

Oh, how I despise your friends, I think to myself.

"It's fine. I understand," I replied calmly, though internally, I questioned myself, "WTF, dude, do you really even want to understand it? Tell her how frustrating it is not to hear her voice." "Actually, I was hesitant to call you anyway."

"Why?" she wondered.

"I thought you wouldn't want to..." I wanted to say, "Talk with me," but instead, I blurted out, "You wouldn't want your friends to think you are not with them." What's even wrong with me? Why did I say that?

"Hmm, is that really the reason, Parth?" she asked gently.

I closed my eyes, squeezed my phone, and sighed, feeling caught and helpless. "I am hesitant to call you because I fear I might be disturbing you or boring you," I admitted. I sighed deeply. "Lately, it has been so annoying."

"What?"

"To not be able to hear your voice."

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "And why do you want to hear my voice?"

"Because listening to your voice fuels my soul."

In this smooth moment of sudden ecstasy, she gasped, her breath momentarily caught.

"This... This thing that you do," she said, a bit overwhelmed.

"What do I do?" I had absolutely no clue what I did wrong.

"These one-liners from you. When you hit it, I get speechless."

"Really?" I was genuinely surprised.

"I don't even understand what to reply to that," her voice flustered.

"Um, I am sorry if you felt bad...I thought I was saying a nice thing."

"You think?" she asked.

I couldn't figure out if she was mad at me or impressed with my words.

"I don't know. If it makes you feel bad..."

"Parth," she accentuated my name. "Which girl feels bad when she receives a good compliment?"

"I don't know. You, perhaps?"

"You are..." she stopped.

"An idiot, I know."

"I just don't understand what should I even reply to you when you hit another level one-liner of yours. I get speechless."

"And you like this."

"Um, yeah. I mean, I just don't understand."

"What do you not understand?"

"That why me?" she seemed a bit perplexed by this mystery. "Why do you like me?"

"Why do I like you?" I repeated the question while mulling it over.

"Yeah, I mean among all these people, all these girls that you have come across in this time, nobody seemed to appeal to your curiosity. Then why me? Why stop at me?"

I fell silent for a moment before responding, "I don't know that either." Another pause followed, during which I pondered. "I just feel happy when I think about you. I knew one thing for sure—I liked you the moment I met you. Since then, many bad things have happened to me, faced many difficult days, but every time a challenge arose, I thought about you. Your face appeared before my eyes. Sometimes, I'd even look at your pictures, and it would bring a smile to my dull face. That smile gave me the courage to confront those adversities. Despite spending my week working among various people at the office, yours is the voice I truly want to hear. I often contemplate calling you every night, but coming late from the office and fearing that calling you every day might bore or vex you, I have to control my urge to talk with you. Every time I feel like calling, I just don't know what to talk about. However, when my soul is drained after a whole week, I tend to call you, and the moment I listen to your voice..."

"And it fuels your soul," she completed my sentence.

"Yes," I sighed deeply and then gently asked her, "The question is, why not you?"

She was left speechless.

"I...I...just..."

"Speechless?" I teased her.

"Yeah," she sounded embarrassed. For some reason, I imagined her face and found her cute. I wished I could see her face right now. I wished I was next to her.

"It's okay. You don't have to say anything about it. It's me; I can't help feeling all these things."

"You need to control your heart, Mr. Writer."

"Oh, I tried, but it doesn't listen to me. Will you please break my heart? That thing is so sexy."

She chuckled. "Sure."

I chuckled a bit. "Back from Udupi?"

"Yeah," the way she stretched that word was so tempting as if she were a dark and seductive mystery. Was she enticing me to come back to Pune again?

"The gifts are on the way. They'll reach Apoo's address, and once delivered, Apoo can bring them to you, or you guys can plan a meeting to receive the gift from her. I'll share the numbers, so don't worry about that."

"You're a perfect planner, aren't you?" she asked seductively.

"I try," I paused and chuckled. "But before every perfect plan, there's a failure, Chubby Cheeks."

"Is that another one of your one-liner compliments?" she wondered innocently.

"You think?" and we both laughed mischievously.

Oh, how I long to share sweet moments with this girl. I yearn to be in Pune with her, spending evenings together. Instead of merely listening to her voice over the phone, I wish to sit beside her every weekend evening, admiring her beautiful face, her pearly eyes, and, of course, her Chubby Cheeks.

"Good night, Chubby Cheeks. As always, it was great to hear your voice."

Words seemed to catch in her chest, but she managed to speak, "Yeah, good night, Mr. Writer. As always, it was great to get your one-liners."

We both hung up the phone. I believe we both took a moment to process the conversation immediately after hanging up. This wait felt worthwhile; having heard her voice, I could now cherish the memory and label it a beautiful night.

Monday arrived, and surprisingly, there were no Monday Blues for me. It seemed someone at the office shared the sentiment.

"Hi, Parth," greeted Avantika, her enthusiasm palpable. Clearly, she had something on her mind.

"Hello, Avantika. You seem unusually happy for a Monday," I remarked with a quizzical expression. "What's going on?"

"I am happy, and I've come to tell you that I've finished the last part of your trilogy," she announced proudly.

Amused by her excitement, I inquired, "So, how was it for you?"

"I absolutely loved it. I can't express how much I found it heart-touching. The first part, when you and your Chubby Cheeks..." She emphasized the nickname, prompting laughter from me.

"Well, I haven't used her real name for obvious reasons. Don't want to attract unwanted attention to her," I explained.

"I understand, and that's considerate of you," she acknowledged. "But let me tell you, Night 1 is my favourite part in this whole trilogy—the dinner date. The way you described those delicate moments, the bike ride at her apartment, and that moment when you're at her door, leaving...it was such an 'Awwww' moment for me. It's true, this is how things happen in real life. You're so reluctant to leave, but you know you have to. It kind of breaks your heart but also leaves us with a wish to see this person once again."

I nodded with a bright smile, appreciating her insights.

"Every character has its own significance. Manish is just brilliant, his intensity to take you all the way to her apartment so that you can see her once before leaving for Mumbai...he truly cares for you," she continued.

"He does," I acknowledged proudly.

"And another character, like Bhushan, brings depth to the story. I'm fascinated with Apoo's role. She has only two brief appearances, yet people will remember her. Whenever you need help or comfort, she's there for you. If you're in trouble, she comes to help you."

"Apoo is like that. I know if I need her, she'll be there for me," I affirmed confidently.

"You're fortunate to have such people in your life. And I suppose that girl would be fortunate to have you," Avantika remarked as she stood up and headed back to her spot.

"Perhaps, it would be me who is fortunate to have her," I mused.

"Do you really think so?" she asked curiously.

After a brief pause, I replied with a hint of humour, "Naah, she's the lucky one to have the author's interest in her."

Avantika laughed and shook her head, "And the mischievous writer is back."

"Thanks, Avantika, for your review," I expressed my gratitude.

"Thank you for writing such a beautiful story. Keep writing stuff like this. And one more thing I want to add here."

"I'm listening."

"The story holds your point of view of the events, but what about hers? How did she see them?" She smiled. "Ask her about it, Parth. And try to write them too; then the story would be balanced."

We exchanged polite smiles and returned to our respective tasks.

Halfway through my work, drowsiness crept in, nudging me toward the office pantry for a cup of coffee. Despite my indifference towards filtered coffee, it was the only option available.

Upon turning back from the coffee machine, I encountered Trupti, a force to be reckoned with, ready to unleash a barrage of questions.

"Hi, Trupti," I greeted nervously, sensing an impending interrogation.

"We need to talk," Trupti declared in her authoritative yet petite voice.

"We?" I replied like a startled bunny from Looney Tunes, acknowledging her dominance despite her stature. Trupti's directness was not arrogance but rather her way of showing genuine concern for friends and loved ones.

"I need to talk. Actually, I want to ask so many questions," she explained.

Calculating the time this conversation might consume against my pending work and office departure, I suggested, "We can have our chit-chat now."

"Sounds perfect."

"It might be good if Kirti is also here, as she seems to have some questions too after reading the trilogy," I added, unlocking my phone to invite Kirti to join us.

"Wait, I'll call her."

Soon, Kirti joined us, and the three of us gathered in the pantry for the impending conversation.

"I can guess what curiosity you both might have," I ventured.

"I read it, and oh my god, Parth," Trupti couldn't contain her reaction any longer. "It was so beautifully written. I mean, I just want to ask one thing to be sure."

"And the answer is yes," I preempted.

"I didn't even ask my question," Trupti retorted. Kirti, however, remained quiet and observant.

"I know the question already, and yes. It did happen in real."

"You met someone in Pune?" Kirti inquired.

I nodded.

"Now, you must show her picture. Your Chubby Cheeks. You had promised it last time," insisted Trupti.

I laughed a little and showed her a picture, extending my phone to Kirti.

"Wow, Parth. Nice choice."

A surge of joy bubbled within me at the compliment. "She's beautiful, isn't she?" I asked, attempting not to seem overly elated.

"She is," affirmed Trupti. "And I must also add that she is quite hot." She teased with a mischievous smile and stare.

"So hot," I fanned my palm to my neck, exaggerating the effect.

"Look at him," Trupti chuckled, and even Kirti joined in.

"Where is she from? She doesn't seem to be from the office," inquired Kirti.

"I hate office romance. She surely wouldn't be from the office, but I can't reveal more than the fact that she is currently in Pune."

"Tell me, are you going to see her again?" pressed Trupti.

"I think if life has some plans for us, then yeah."

"Don't you want to see her?" Trupti questioned.

I didn't answer, but my eyes couldn't hide my response either.

"Oh boi, our friend is totally lost in someone's love."

"I am not in love with her, yet."

"But it is quite obvious that you like her," noted Kirti.

"I know, that's why I got her gifts," I replied, looking into my coffee mug.

"Gifts?" Trupti's eyes sparked with curiosity. "What did you get her?"

"Um, well, jeans pants, a hoodie, and denim shorts."

"You got her a hoodie and shorts?" Trupti asked, surprised.

"Yup," I nodded casually.

"Parth, these gifts seem quite intimate. I mean, do you even know if she wears shorts?" Trupti seemed a bit anxious.

"Well, I had called her and asked her about the size of her waist."

"You asked what?"

"Her waist size."

Trupti raised her eyebrows, silently expressing, "Seriously?"

"She was taken aback, but before she could tell, I asked her if it was 30." Trupti raised her eyebrows even more. "And she said yeah, it is. So, in the next moment, I placed the order for her."

"How did you know it was precisely 30?"

"I recollected a memory when she and I were going into her apartment. She was next to me, climbing the stairs, and for a little more than a second's time, I accidentally got a glimpse of her... maybe I should shut up."

Trupti was amused, having her laugh, while Kirti seemed bemused but smiled at my answer.

"You really pay this much attention while living a moment?" Kirti asked.

"Yeah, even right now. I can't help it," I replied.

"Are you going to write further chapters?" queried Trupti, clearly intrigued by what happens next.

"I am done writing Beautiful Nights. It was a trilogy."

"Why was it named Beautiful Nights?" Kirti wondered.

"I think I know the answer to this question," said Trupti. "It's because whenever Parth met his Chubby Cheeks, it was always at night. All the events written in it are mostly in the evening or night times only. And clearly, her appearance made the night beautiful."

Impressed with Trupti's observation, I smiled, glancing at her for a moment.

"It is the reason, isn't it?" she asked.

I nodded my head in affirmation.

"Oh, so these are

 the reasons," Kirti emphasized.

"There are many mysteries; I always tend to put them in my stories. I just rarely find people to unlock them. For instance, there was an unpublished book whose title is hidden in the two novels that I have published. And I intend to put the title of that unpublished book in every book that I publish until I finally publish that first book."

They both looked at each other. "These writers are just like this, aren't they?" Kirti remarked to Trupti.

"Indeed they are, cryptic and enigmatic."

"You should write further chapters of Beautiful Nights," suggested Trupti.

"Yeah," emphasized Kirti.

"What? You do that? I wrote those three Nights based on my meetings with her?"

"So go back to Pune, meet her again. Make some new memories and write those too." It was more of a command from Trupti than a simple suggestion.

"What?"

"Dude, are you stupid or what? Can't you see how happy she makes you? I mean, look at his face."

"Yeah," Kirti seemed to be a supporter of Trupti's ideas.

"Look at the smile on his face when he thinks about her."

"I am not smiling," I tried to hide my face in my coffee mug.

"Yes, you are." Trupti, the little devil, knew how to get me. "Let's get back to work," she suggested to Kirti. "And you better think about writing further chapters and put our characters too into them stating we are the ones who asked you to write further chapters."

I smiled, taking a moment after they left, and glanced at my phone. Opening her picture, I lingered on it, contemplating how much I desired to share beautiful moments with this captivating girl.

As the office hours concluded, I wrapped up my work and strolled towards the railway station to catch my local train. Amidst the bustling journey, my phone buzzed with a call. It was Apoo. Without hesitation, I answered.

"Yes."

"The package has been received," Apoo informed.

"Good."

"What's next? Do I need to deliver it to her?" she inquired.

"If it wouldn't be too much trouble for you," I replied gently.

"Come on, Bhai, I can do this much for you anyway."

"That's so sweet of you, Apoo."

"I'm rather dying to meet the girl who caught your interest. I want to meet her, I want to see her," Apoo expressed her curiosity.

I was amused by Apoo's enthusiasm.

"You should have received her number," I mentioned. "Check your WhatsApp."

She did.

"Yeah, I got it."

"Good. Apoo, now listen very carefully to what I need you to do."

"I'm listening."

- The End of Night 5 -