Brimming he was in first light, smiled preciously thinking of the day ahead. His geometrical perfect square shape looked breaking all the collinear points of existence. He hoped secretly that he could be parallel to her notions. While brushing, he smiled in mirror as if he was smiling to her reflection and showed his red tongue tingling with fresh air. Plain yoghurt & carrots full on plate countered his voracious diet but his stomach was still churning, it was unusual.
There is something new in his attitude. Something suspicious. Something is playing a ting tong into his mind. At the same time. Always. As if somebody has set up a biological clock into hIS mind. Something he can’t recall what is that? As though green caterpillar is slowly making motions in his veins. As though Honeybee is stinging on his palms. Or butterflies are yelling at him. "You should ask her. You should ask her". You can’t get away without this. Without asking such a significant one. A significant question.
"I must ask her. I must ask her." He reiterated to himself as if his words will telepathically reach to her ears. Transmission, rather a disloyal slave of frequencies.
She should be sleeping at this time. He is aware of her method. A prescribed set of modus operandi. She is control freak, in his terms even if it is boring...he loves her methodology, perhaps it is all he had..
She must be sleeping at this time. Even fully awakened she ignored his question, sleeping mind is ten thousand dollar bet, he lost in his own. But this is conundrum, he must solve it. Not for her statement, but for his sound sleep. He spent at least twenty nights out of total two months untitled acquaintance. Calculations are mysterious phenomenon of needs but translucent one, allowing a distinct image in his mind. His analytic can’t be wrong even if sounds selfish.
At last he approach her. Her most poignant voice. A standard one, "tell me", and a very standard one - her pitch. It carries no emotions at all, contrast to that that she loves emoticons.
He gathered all courage of universe, and straight saw in her forlorn eyes, unexpected of outcome, he settled for his question and asked finally -"Ham chloromint kyun khate hai?"
P.S. - It is all work of fiction. Dreams don’t fall into category of Non-fiction. Right!! Oops!! Didn't I tell you it was a dream?