UNDER THE Night-blooming - JASMINE TREE

Lata’s consciencereminds her of one of the commandments she has heard about love —“Always be patient and never fuss over trivial matters.” She is trying hard to be uncomplaining, accepting of whatever comes her way.

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But sitting with Ajay in the effulgent sea of light in one of the posh restaurants of the city is making her mental dispositionunrelentingly downhearted.

From the street outside, she can faintly hear the sound of feet rushing home, exhausted by the day’s work, punctuated by the vibrations of vehicles and their mind-numbing, blaring horns. In the crepuscular light, she see ghostly forms of men and women flitting past the transparent door.

In a matter of minutes, the entire world outdoors will be illuminated by artificial lights, except her mind unknowingly housing an incomprehensible quandary that has come in with the dusk. It feels as if she has been sitting in that position for ages with nothing much to do but watch other diners in the room absorbed with themselves or stare at her reflection every now and then on the polished floor. She met Ajay on a dating App, has known him for two months, and now it’s their first date. Ajay is a short, corpulent man, well dressed in a yellow shirt and black jeans, smelling of luxuriously used aftershave and giving an impression of a senior executive in a big firm, while in reality, he is only a college-going student like her. She is a plain Jane in a simple cotton salwar–kurta.