A Cold Evening at Cyber Hub

Any action an individual undertakes is usually the result of a series of decisions – a decision tree if you will. It has always fascinated me, this process. I have often analyzed how I come to any decision so as to write my characters better. But what’s really intriguing is how two individuals’ decision trees intersect for them to cross paths, the intricacy of it all – two people making decisions after decisions that bring them to the same place at the same time and interact. The butterfly effect suggests that the smallest of variance in any of these individual’s decisions would send them in two different directions, thus making the intertwining of their fates almost impossible.

Let’s take the example of two absolute strangers who met at Cyber Hub one winter evening. They dined at Mamagotos two tables away from where I sat and discussed their association so far. Being alone, having stood up by a date, I had nothing interesting to do. So I decided to eavesdrop. As I listened to the two, observed them, a story started unfolding. The guy, let’s call him Brahma, was fair, kind of plump, wore a mustard yellow t-shirt that didn’t really hide his paunch, and by the way he held his tummy in, it was evident that he was conscious of his physique. There was a black jacket on the armrest which indicated that Brahma wouldn’t look so bloated with the jacket on. I could see that he regretted taking it off. All of this was very subtle, I must add, because he spoke confidently and boisterously. I am sure his companion didn’t see any of these insecurities. 

The lady accompanying Brahma, let’s call her Shweta, was petite, dark complexioned and had darting curious eyes. She smiled sparingly and spoke about how “they” served these crackers before bringing in the order with a couple of spicy dips which were really yummy. Shweta wore a black shirt covered by a grey jacket that she still had on. Even though it wasn’t as cold inside the Oriental restaurant as it was outside, she was still cold. “I am trying to figure you out,” Brahma said, catching my attention. Since I was out on a date that stood me up, I had decided to at least treat myself to a good meal. This character analysis was just cherry on top. “You stood me up last time,” Brahma teasingly continued, “and while that hurt, I am not a quitter.” 

“Oooh,” I thought to myself, “There’s hope for me after all.” And just so, I was invested in their story. Shweta mumbled something in a low voice at this point and I couldn’t hear her. Thankfully, neither could Brahma, so he asked her to repeat it. “Hope isn’t good,” Shweta enunciated this time. “I really can’t help myself at times,” Brahma replied, “It was good pizza though. I really thought you’d come, especially since it was your recommendation.” At this point, I really wanted to ask them which place they were talking about. Hey, I like pizza too. 

“Well,” Shweta continued, “I had told you I wouldn’t make it. You still insisted that you were coming. You came on too strong.” I liked her. It wasn’t really standing up if she had informed in advance. “But I was already on my way when you said you won’t come,” Brahma said, sounding earnest, “I really thought you were having cold feet and my nudging might help.” I thought that was presumptuous. And judging by his demeanor, I was surprised he was so sure of himself. “But I gather my charm wasn’t good enough,” Brahma sniggered on. “Oh buddy,” I thought to myself, shaking my internal head at the manipulative route Brahma was taking. I glanced at Shweta to see her reaction and she was smiling, pretty widely at that. “Good for you, Brahma” I thought to myself.

At this point, I took stock of the information I had about the two and tried to form the story up until this point in time. It went something like this – 

Brahma, having had a break up last summer, joined Bumble to see if there were ‘plenty of fish in the sea’ as his friends led him to believe. Several hours of curating his options and defining his likes and dislikes led him nowhere, so Brahma lost patience and started swiping on the profiles which seemed dodgy. Thus he came across Shweta, who had a picture of herself, from an angle that didn’t show her face or give away much of her features to even form a mental picture. ‘Shweta, 31’ seemed like an unlikely bet, but there was a match notification as soon as Brahma swiped on her. He had to wait several hours before she chose to send the first text. Right after the initial greeting, she informed him to manage his expectations as she was just ‘auditing the app’ to determine how effective its algorithm was. Apparently, a friend of hers was developing a dating app of his own and she was doing ‘research’ for him. All this sounded like a whole lot of rubbish to him, but he played on. Beggars can’t be choosers. 

Shweta seemed like an introvert and depressed from the texts they exchanged and Brahma adjusted his approach accordingly. He played the ‘therapist’ and posed as someone who was just ‘observing humanity’. They talked about their lives. He talked about his drab routine and she mentioned how insignificant her work was. They texted and talked over calls for a few days before Brahma indicated that they should meet. Shweta had been very private about herself up until this point and she hinted that she wasn’t all that he was building her up to be in his mind. That’s when she mentioned a great obscure pizzeria in South Delhi that she loved and he asked her if she was up for a great meal. 

Taking that as a yes, he planned to meet her there on a Wednesday evening. It was a bit of a commute from his place of work so he started an hour early to be on time. That’s when she informed his she wasn’t in a mood to meet and the rest of that story, we already established from their conversation. After that, I gather Brahma emotionally blackmailed her a few times until she agreed to meet him after work one day – this day to be precise. “You are very different from what I had imagined,” Shweta said, halfway into the meal. “In a good way or bad?” Brahma asked, fishing for a compliment. “You’re way more decent and reserved, almost like a different person,” Shweta continued. I could understand this. Usually this happens to introverts, as they manage to open up on text but reserve the shyness in person. 

“I was surprised you managed to meet this far away from home. Making up for my long cab ride last time?” Brahma asked.

“This was close to work,” Shweta replied, indicating her office was walking distance from Cyber Hub. This seemed to confuse Brahma. “Didn’t you say your office was in Noida?” he asked.

“When did I say that?” Shweta quizzed.

Brahma thought back to their conversation and realized he had made some error in his mental calculations. “We could definitely meet more often if you work in Gurgaon,” he exclaimed. Shweta smiled at his enthusiasm and asked him to pump the breaks. She went on to talk about how she was an amateur food blogger and he expressed his complete ignorance in that subject, even though he liked to eat. They went on to finish their meal. By this time, my check had come and I stepped out of the restaurant. I went to take a leak and when I was walking out, I came across them again. Out in the evening cold, with his jacket on, Brahma looked slimmer than he had seemed inside. And Shweta seemed smaller. The dazzling neon lights reflected over his tonsured head, through the little stubbly hair that was growing back. Her burgundy colored curls waved as there was a slight breeze. They walked with no hurry and I had to fall back a little to adjust to the unhurried pace as I usually walk rather fast.

They bought a couple of paans from this cart called Banaras, you know the ones which are served on martini glasses filled with crushed ice. My mind wandered off to the irony of this paan. Paan which is usually served at roadside paan shops for a couple of rupees, being served in martini glasses with ice was something I found really thought provoking. By this time, Brahma and Shweta had gone on to sit at the steps near the exit point beyond Theobroma and were holding hands. I overheard her saying it was late and Brahma saying he would drop her home, but she insisted on going home alone. It was getting late, so I left the scene and went on to collect my car from parking. As I drove around Cyber Hub, I passed the exit gate. The young couple were bidding each other good bye. I got a call at this point and parked on the side of the road outside a few yards before the exit. Brahma and Shweta hugged before he got into a cab that drove in and then Shweta was left there all alone, hugging her jacket close in the cold evening. My call ended at this point and I observed the slim woman standing there – wondering at the decision tree that got these two people together. 

Since Brahma had been more vocal in their conversation at the restaurant, I had more or less figured out his decision tree but Shweta was a bit of an intrigue. She took special care not to divulge too much and I, as a writer and as a man, wanted a peek into her psyche. Was she a heartbroken loner, as Brahma had pegged her to be? Someone wary of love? Was what I saw at the steps, the hand holding and the soft exchange of words the beginning of a new relationship? What lay beyond those twinkling eyes, I wondered. 

At this point, a guy drove in on a scooter and stopped in front of Shweta. She hopped on the scooter and they drove away. I wondered who he was – maybe a friend, a colleague. I also started driving away. When I pulled over at the traffic light, Shweta and the new guy had also pulled up there. It was a 180 second stop and I turned to see what was happening with my subject. She was curled up close to the co-rider by this point and when I looked closely, he had his hand on her thigh on the side. Suddenly, the two didn’t seem as platonic as I had first assumed. I was utterly perplexed. I rolled down my window and looked at the guy a little closely. He seemed somewhat familiar.

That’s when it hit me. This guy was also at the restaurant, sitting a few tables away. I had noticed him passingly as he was the only other single diner at the restaurant other than myself. He had also been watching Brahma and Shweta and I had chalked it to a single guy’s curiosity then. He was now talking to Shweta with his head turned so that she could hear him and as I rolled the window down, I overheard a bit of their conversation before they drove away. “Seemed like a sucker,” the guy said, “make sure you lay out the net the next time you meet.” Shweta nodded and smiled as they rode away into the night, leaving me even more confused than I was before.

Delhi NCR is a large area and I never crossed path with Brahma, Shweta or that guy again. Several weeks later, I read this news article about some unsuspecting guy honey trapped by a woman he met on a dating app and her two accomplices and duped of several lakhs of rupees, and I wondered if it was Brahma. I have no way to know but I am more curious than ever to know the set of decisions that make two individuals cross paths like that.