The answers found me.

A dinner table lined with copper glasses.

All the emotions I felt today, swirled into that moment, a dinner table with five humans. Three architects, one architecture student and a scientist.

A crowd so loving and authentic, with an innate rush to make connections, travel and befriend stories as they walk a trail.

The day began with hot Masala Dosa at Konark Kanteerva, the seating was at a lower level, led by stairs running down from the street. Four on a table, we ate as we read the first chapter of each other. Journey in architecture. What you do. What you love. Do you love what you do?

And then the trail began, a trail that led to a world full of forest green. What we witnessed was humongous trees waiting to be hugged, to be made our own. They walked in awe. Staring the blue sky through the foliage, a canopy arching and effortlessly extending over our conversations and laughter.

She picked up a thin version of a pine cone, and gave it to him and said, this will go into our collection. He tucked it between the strap of his bag, and we spent minutes clicking photographs of a tree that was easily 7 storeys tall. Almost touching the sky, reaching out. We wanted a picture in which all four of us would be there, so we asked a stranger. A tilted odd angular photograph was clicked, and the stranger walked away. We took a few steps forward and Jigar went OH SHIT, the three of us turned towards him in sync. He had dropped the thin pine that was picked as a souvenir. He had a sheepish smile, and she had an ~UGH I don't like you wkwllwwl face. She insisted that he walk back to find it, but he pulled her into a consoling hug. ~ Iddhar aaja but said in a silent hug. Mein usse accha kuch dhund lunga. That was such a beautiful, little thing. But that moment stayed with me. How my language of giving hugs, resonated with their language to pacify. To make you feel better. To establish, that hugs are most precious, than most tangible things in this world.

We walked around exchanging banter, they told me the story of how they met and fell in love, story of the last time they travelled to another city, the everyday life in Mumbai shifting between local trains and buses, and a lot of little big things.

You know I have a habit of speaking only in English, even though I am pretty fluent in Hindi. Even though sometimes, my mental voice is Hindi, I somehow, always end up speaking English. But today, before leaving home; I thought I'd speak only Hindi with them.

NOPE

Sirf English nikla. Like every other friend I make.

And I just flowed with it.

But at one point, when we all sat on opposite stone slabs amidst the trees; they asked me why I don't speak Hindi?

At first I said, I don't know. English flows. And a second after, I told them why. I was in my first standard and my classroom was filled with kids from North India. There were a bunch of UP guys who made fun of a south Indian boy who spoke Hindi. For his accent. And his bunny teeth. I had bunny teeth too. And that settled in my mind like heavy sand on an ocean bed, and I stuck to what I was naturally good at. And chose to carry fluency like a guard, almost projecting supremacy to not get teased. It felt beautiful sharing this bit of me to them, a part that got vulnerable as a child and chose English as a defence mechanism. Which slowly became my living mechanism as well.

Both Jigar and Archita were heritage enthusiasts and I knew they had to visit Church street.

We walked out of Cubbon, and booked a cab to MG Road metro station. We got into the car, and it poured. It poured like tea filling a round tea pot. Muddy water filling up to the brim on street landscape. They were in awe again, with the trees and planters on nooks and corners of the street. We drove past plants of so many colours, talking about Phil Phanpy. Our kid. And him. I told them how I love elephants and Jigar shared one of his Coorg adventure stories. One where he had to get to a Zostel at 1 AM after encountering a bunch of weird people at midnight. It felt beautiful to be listening to pieces and days of people that made them who they are today. You know the most beautiful part, the story he lived, is a story I wrote as a fictional piece when I was in 11th grade. Stares that churn emotions, it was titled.( it is there on this blog if you scroll down) And it blew my mind that this little brain of Vajjj had imagined a story that was lived somewhere in a far corner of the world, so away yet so close.

You know I read a quote recently,

"Being spontaneous is about letting go of this need, to you know; reach a certain outcome in life. If I am going to a shop to purchase something versus taking a stroll. Those two have a significantly different flavor. Yeah, so making life about taking a stroll, take a stroll through life."

And today, felt like a stroll through life. Four lives flowing into one another at a beautiful tangent, one that I always dream of. To walk, exploring a city, learning about a stranger. Strangers who eventually feel like a family because of how much we could connect in a ring-like time frame collecting stories like magic dust.

We stepped into a world that always makes me smile, for lunch.

Cinnamon.

We walked past the boutiques and fancy stores, we stood right in front of the little courtyard, catching sun in two beautiful round pots. Storing warmth in it's heart, heating the stone carved leaves- pathway stamped on the pebbles.

We chose a seating to the right. We sunk in our chairs, ready to devour in some good food.

We ordered food. The starters set an expectation so high that we were sitting ready to be mind blown. But that didn't happen. It was underwhelming, like most things in life. Like architecture at times. Like modern art. Like the people who you expect a lot of.

The lasagna was just ?????//kya hai yeh//

We snuck the fork in layered cheese, rubbery and bland without vegetables. Along with a good flavour of Tom Yum salad on the side. And a good boba tea with bursting mango boba. 

I guess it was a reminder to take the blandness, the confusion and the excessive question marks with equal grace.

We ate, with unending conversations.

And when it was time to leave from there, I paused them and asked them to sit for five minutes. I pulled out three Bangalore based postcards and wrote. I wrote to each one of them.

Dear Jigar.

Dear Archita.

Dear Kashifa.

Three postcards that looked like they were printed, they were celebrating my handwriting like it was a precious script they tumbled upon. And they decided that it was, after reading the letter.

I finished writing and handed it to them almost simultaneously. I told them that the one I wrote to Jigar and Archita can be read by both because it was almost a letter to the two of them. And a single cute one for Kashifa. My eyes scanned the three faces reading in focus, each smiling at a different timing but almost felt like a domino effect. One smile after the other, and the other. Their eyes moved with the words into the next line, processing what I'd written and breaking into a wide smile. Archita finished reading and almost looked emotional, Jigar and her exchanged the postcards to read the other one and at that moment, she broke down. She cried reading what I wrote. It had hit home. It really had carved a reading corner in her heart, like the book I dream of publishing.

She hugged me tight. And said "I need a picture with her" with utmost immediacy. 

Photographs were taken in that sunlit courtyard with the pots backing us. Pictures with Archita. Pictures with Jigar. Pictures with both of them. And they are such warm people, they hold you close in photographs reflecting their nature of life, and their way of living. They held me close with their heads tilted towards me in the centre and it looked like such a cute family picture. When we were assessing the pictures, I went AYE this is such a cute family picture. And Archita looked me in the eye and said, welcome to our family.

That moment; you know, that was a dream I've always dreamt of. That is how I want my life to be. To live as the most loved human. To make connections that make my soul happy. To make friends who will invite you home, with open arms and even open heart. Friends who will walk with you, exploring a city as you exchange stories and live a story of a lifetime.

We had a temple run for the evening. Again, the whole plan falling into place so spontaneously.

My love for living moments with strangers felt so fulfilled when we sat there in a century old stone temple, with little turtles trying to climb one step at a time. Rain having a relentless downpour, filling that central pond with dancing droplets splashing, rising mid air only to fall back, one human sketching the temple elements she loves, the other human reading about the water system of this ancient treasure trove. The third human, sitting beside me in silence. In love with the place. With hope. 

We had a proper temple run, we visited three places and in all the temples, when it was my turn to pray, I had nothing to ask for. I wasn't seeking clarity or strength or happiness.

It was that really strong, overpowering moment of folding my hands and feeling only gratitude. My mind was literally blank. I was only grateful that I got to live such a beautiful day with three beautiful humans (that too from Mumbai, a city that has a large piece of my heart.)

I was only greatful for this spontaneity and the calmness, strength and stability it placed me in.

I felt their love for me compound reading what I wrote in the post card, I felt so greatful in that moment for being able to express so beautifully through words. And yet again, after a whole grey phase of feeling extremely under confident and lost, my words made me believe in my own essence. After long. My magic as a storyteller, my worth as a human being.

It was a day that mirrored my true self, unveiled the ifs and buts and ~where will I make it in life? I made it to a dinner table with two architects from my dream college; CEPT , one urban designer and one scientist who are so good at what they do, humans who were so authentic and beautiful, just like the people I want to fill my life with.

And with the pressing career questions circling me, of where will I make it in life?

The day left me feeling, I know I'll make it.

I'll make it, somewhere beautiful. A place full of life, love and genuine connections.

All the emotions I felt today swirled up into that moment, a dinner table lined with copper glasses.

A dinner table with strangers turned into beautiful friends, people who looked like spontaneity and warm hugs packaged into a smile.

Love.

~Vajjj