I Watched the Stage from the Stairs (Part 2)

Photo by: Shakti Kundu for MTTN.
Edited by: Sounak Bhattacherjee for MTTN

When I woke up this morning, I thought of only one thing: that I am not going to repeat yesterday's mistakes. No more sitting on the stairs, no more pitying myself just because some people looked at me weirdly, and definitely no grand expectations from TechTatva. Added, today was a chill day, no quizzes, no debates, and no room for me to embarrass myself, or so I thought.

As I stood outside my hostel room, scheming the plan for the day, a whirl of nervous excitement and a breeze of guarded optimism blew against me.

Suddenly, a slight nudge knocked me out of my wandering. Shaking off the shock, I decided to head towards the AB3 stalls. What caught my eye was Spiderman, who looked like he had just pulled an all-nighter.

I decided to move under the shade of the poster stall, keeping an eye on that Spiderman. I don’t know why– he looked... different. Interesting even. Standing under the stall, my eyes glued to that poster, and at a distance, I hear “That’s Spiderman after endsems”, I turn around and lay my eyes on a sight making it worth me taking my eyes off the poster, looking like a summer breeze on a scorching day, a mere sight of her was enough to make me hopeful about the day.

A girl. wearing torn jeans and an oversized Lorde tee, with curly hair pulled back in an untidy bun. She has this amused smirk on her face as she points to the poster.

"Right?" I say, attempting to sound informal. "The poor guy appears to have spent the last 48 hours debugging code."

It's this real, genuine sound when she laughs, "By the way, my name is Anya."

"Sahil, you're a fresher too?" I enquire.

"Yes! I’m on my second day of attempting to understand what Tech Tatva is.” She chuckles. "Yesterday was... chaotic."

I mutter, "Tell me about it," and she picks up on my tone.

"Good chaotic or bad chaotic?"

"Let's just say that today I'm here with new hope." I stop. "And, apparently, a strong recommendation for the best za in Manipal."

Her eyes brighten. "My goodness, you've already had the za talk from someone? That is comparable to the height of Manipal initiation. She smiles. "Did you understand their true meaning?"

I say flatly, "Pizza," and she starts laughing.

"Classic. What did they mean, in your opinion?”

"On that one, I'm pleading the fifth."

I observe how people greet her as we begin to leave the poster stall. A wave there, "Hey, Anya!" here. Despite having only been here for 2 months, she walks around campus with the assurance, ease, and confidence of a native.

"You seem to know everyone," I say.

She shrugs. "I simply converse with people. The majority of them are cool. A few of them are strange. It's a mixed bag. She gives me a look. "How about you? "Where are you from?"

“Bangalore. Born and raised.”

"My hometown is Mumbai, very different vibes.” She makes a lively gesture. "For example, Mumbai is just chaos with trains and people cutting chai at two in the morning, while Bangalore is serene and has ideal weather."

"But it sounds pretty great to get cutting chai at two in the morning."

"It is." This distant look enters her eyes. “Sometimes I miss it. However, I'm starting to like Manipal.”

The campus is humming with Tech Tatva energy as we make our way towards AB3. She begins to tell me stories about how she once visited this waterfall by herself and sat there listening to music, feeling strangely at ease despite being alone. Even about locating Mumbai's top Vadapav locations at two in the morning, as well as how her friends and she would cut the hair of the people whom they didn’t like while they were asleep, in the girls’ hostel.

I say, half impressed, half horrified, "You didn't."

"Yes, we did. The responses were invaluable.” She gives a cunning smile. "Isn't the goal of college to create memories, even if they are insane.

"You've already completed all of this? What, two months have passed?”

"Sahil, life is short. Overanalyzing is a waste of time.” As if it were the most straightforward philosophy in the world, she says it with such ease. "How about you? How has your Manipal story gone thus far?

I pause. "Honestly, I've been attempting to locate myself. It's more difficult than I anticipated. I assumed that by simply showing up, I would immediately make friends and fit in, but that isn't how things operate.”

"Yes, they don't." She's surprisingly sympathetic. "During the first two weeks, I was incredibly lonely. cried about three times during a video call.

I nod, respecting her candor.

She asks abruptly, "Hey, did you listen to the new Taylor album yet?"

"Not just yet. "You?"

"Yes, oh my god. You know, ‘The Fate of Ophelia’ is truly ‘Showgirl Life.’ Like a performance that never stops shining, and never stops, even when you're worn out." She averts her gaze. "I feel that way sometimes. As if I'm acting fine."

We continue to walk towards SP while discussing Bangalore and Mumbai, glancing again at the decorations around us.

She makes wild gestures as she states, "Mumbai is just chaos. The local trains are packed like sardine cans, the traffic is heavy, and the rains flood everything. However, there's something about it, the energy, the hustle, the cafes. It never stops moving.”

I respond, "Consider yourself the city where all the tech startup bros congregate. That's Bangalore. In addition, there is traffic. However, the weather is the best.”

"Real, plus Bangalore people are so cute."

I raise an eyebrow. "Thanks."

She laughs. "I meant their way of styling. But sure, take the compliment, Overthinker."

"Well, I’d say Mumbai women are classy," I say.

Her messy bun, ripped jeans with real dirt on them, and an oversized sweatshirt that reads "In your car, the radio up" with some Lorde reference I don't understand are all visible when she looks down at herself. “Very elegant, indeed. I am that.” She laughs, and I just notice the way her hair falls on her shoulder.

"I'm dying," she declares abruptly as we reach SP. "Before I burn, I need something cold."

Photo by: Shakti Kundu for MTTN.
Edited by: Sounak Bhattacherjee for MTTN
We go to shop number 9, and I get a Coke, she gets herself an iced tea, and we just chill in the shade for a while. Soon enough, I hear Charli xcx's "Party 4 U" playing on the speaker.

"This song is so amazing, Sahil!" Anya exclaims, and all of a sudden, she is completely unafraid to move and sway to the music.

I can’t help but stare at her. The way she throws her head back and laughs at her own awful dancing skills, and the way she closes her eyes when the chorus hits. Something about her is so magnetic and radiant. She is so unapologetically herself.

Then I see something, though, only for a split second. Her entire face changes as she looks at her phone in the middle of the song. The light becomes less bright. She stops talking and tightens her jaw while scrolling through something.

I ask, "You okay?"

For a brief moment, I notice concern etched on her face as she looks up. Then it disappears when she blinks. "Yes! Yeah, totally. Just making sure."

She switches so quickly that I almost think she's telling the truth. Nearly.

With that effortless smile, she puts her phone in her pocket and turns back to face me. "Bangalore boy, you know what your problem is?"

"I have numerous issues. You'll need to be more detailed.”

"You overthink things. I can actually see the wheels turning in your mind.” She prods my forehead. "I'm going to call you Overthinker from now on."

"What a horrible nickname."

"Unfortunately. It is now yours; deal with it.” I take a sip of my Coke and try not to smile as she resumes her stroll.

We return to AB4 and settle into this strangely comfortable pattern of teasing and arguing. She enquires about my aspirations and my post-college goals.

"I don't know, honestly," I confess. "I mean, engineering seemed like the right path, but I'm not sure if it's my path, you know?"

"God, I sense that." As we walk, she kicks a pebble. "I'd like to take a trip. Like, all over the place. I want to hike in Patagonia, see the Northern Lights, and get lost in Tokyo. Writing code for a company that doesn't care about me while cooped up in a cubicle is not what I want."

"Then, what are you doing here?"

"Purchasing time. figuring things out. In addition, if I didn't earn a degree, my parents would disown me.” There's a tinge of humor in her laugh. "How about you? How do you feel about going to college? Regarding life?"

"Really? I'm overwhelmed. It's tiring for me to constantly try to fit in and have fun."

She pauses her stride and turns to face me. "Then why are you making it happen?"

I'm surprised by the question. "What?"

"Why are you making yourself enjoy yourself so much? "Why don't you just... stop caring?"

I give it a lot of thought. "Because I find it difficult. I can't simply switch it off. I want to participate, but I don't want to alter who I am to do so. To fit in, I don't want to push myself to be more outspoken or gregarious."

Slowly, she nods as if she understands. "Fair."

"How about you?" I reverse it for her. "Are you ever concerned about appearing overly dramatic? You're so open and out there. Isn't that frightening to you?”

Her voice abruptly becomes quiet as she says, "I have so many things to worry about, can't waste time worrying about coming across as someone who is also looking for attention."

We arrive at the food stalls before I can reply, where we are immediately hit by the smell of sugar and fried food. We find a spot under a tree close to AB3 and grab boba and potato twisters. I get classic milk tea, she gets taro. We sit there and watch people go by, couples holding hands, groups of friends laughing and taking pictures, and lone wolves like us simply watching.

She says, "You're doing it again."

"Doing what?"

"Overanalyzing. I can see it on your face.”

I laugh. "Is it my fault? While everyone else was having a great time yesterday, I sat by myself eating Maggi from Om Xerox.”

“And now you're sitting with me beneath a tree, sipping expensive boba, and judging people's outfits. That’s growth, Mr.Overthinker,” She states cutely.

"But is it?"

"Yes." I nearly believe her when she says it with such conviction.

After a while of comfortable silence, she asks, "Really, why are you forcing yourself to have fun? As in, what's the ultimate goal here?"

"I suppose... I simply don't want to look back and realize how much time I wasted. Everyone says that college should be the most enjoyable time of your life, so what am I doing if I'm not enjoying myself?”

"That's bullshit," she states plainly. "College is just that, college. Unless you make it so, it won't be the greatest time of your life. Making it that way does not entail putting on a happy show for other people. It entails doing what truly brings you joy.”

Before I can analyze that, her name is called out. A girl wearing a nose ring and bright blue hair is waving at us, or rather, Anya.

"Gurllll! We're playing games, come on! I'm gonna beat you in their dumbbell challenge.”

Anya's expression brightens. She looks at me. "You coming, Overthinker?"

"I don't—"

She takes hold of my hand and hauls me to my feet. "Too bad I ain’t asking, let’s go."

There are a lot of people in the game area, cheering and listening to loud music. The task is straightforward: extend your arm and hold a dumbbell for as long as you can. Anya's friend goes first, and after about forty seconds, her arm begins to shake.

"My turn!" I can see the competitive fire in Anya's eyes as she snatches up the dumbbell. Her face contorted with effort, she endures for a full minute before letting it fall.

"Beat that, Bangalore boy!"

I pick up the dumbbell. It weighs more than it appears. My arm is screaming after thirty seconds. Forty seconds. Fifty. Anya is smiling at me when I look at her, and I realize that I could go on. I could easily outlive her. I don't want to, though. I drop it at fifty-five seconds.

"Hey! "I winnn!" After performing a brief victory dance, she suddenly snatches a cup of water from the nearby table and hurls it at me.

"No wayy, What —"

Photo by: Shakti Kundu for MTTN.
Edited by: Sounak Bhattacherjee for MTTN

"That's for losing!" She's laughing so much that she's having trouble breathing.

I should be irritated because I'm soaked and have water running down my face, but I'm also laughing. "You're insane!"

"Thank you!"

For the next hour, we simply... live in the present. Making jokes that only make sense to us, singing along to songs we hardly understand, and dancing poorly to the music on stage. I'm not considering whether I'm having fun for the first time since arriving in Manipal. I’m just having it.

We eventually find ourselves behind AB4. Everything is bathed in a golden glow as the sun begins to set. Anya is sitting on the grass, leaning against the wall, holding her phone once more, while I dry off my shirt due to the water attack.

At that moment, I notice the worry returning to her face, this time with greater intensity. Her thumb hovers over her screen as if she's afraid to tap, and she's staring at it.

"Anya," I speak softly. "What's happening?"

I think she's going to deflect again for a second when she looks up. Her shoulders then slump, and she exhales deeply.

She whispers, "My dad's being discharged from the hospital today." A few weeks ago, he was involved in an accident. It wasn't fatal, but it was awful enough. All day, I've been waiting for confirmation that he's well enough to return home."

"Oh." I take a seat beside her. "Anya, shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

"Yeah, whatever,” she cuts me off. After some time, she herself breaks the silence, "I don't really discuss it. Simply being loud and having a good time without giving it any thought is easier.”

"Is that the reason you kept looking at your phone?" I asked calmly.

"Yeah." She lets out a breath. "All I'm waiting for is a text from my mum saying that everything is—"

Her cell buzzes. Her whole face changes as she looks down. "Oh my god. He's home, oh my god. He's all right. He's at home.”

She throws her arms around me and pulls me into a tight hug before I can react. "He's all right, Sahil. In fact, he's fine.”

She trembles a little against me as I return the hug. "Anya, that's incredible. I'm so happy for you.”

Wiping her eyes, she pulls back. "I really ought to tell Riya. She has been extremely anxious.”

"Riya? Must be her girl bestie, I swear every girl has one here," I wonder.

"Yes, she is, but also my girlfriend,” She states as she smiles at her phone, texting who I’m guessing is Riya.

For a moment, the words linger in the air. My brain attempts to recalibrate everything from the previous few hours in this strange stutter-step manner.

"Oh." That's all I can do.

She gives me a startled look. "Gosh, I'm so sorry. I ought to have brought that up sooner. I simply assumed I did—"

"No, no, it's okay." I make an effort to smile. "I'm unsure of what to say at this point because I simply didn't anticipate that."

With relief, she laughs. "Overthinker, you don't need to speak. You're doing well.”

She takes out her phone and snaps a selfie of the two of us with the sunset in the background. We both look a little messy but incredibly content. She captions it, "Made a friend and Dad’s home, Fun day," and posts it online.

Something settles inside of me as I watch her do it. Not exactly a letdown. Clarity, more precisely. Her openness and kindness had been misinterpreted by me, and I had been reading the signs incorrectly. Perhaps a connection. However, this was not that. This was just a genuine friendship developing in real time.

And truthfully? That's sufficient. More than enough, perhaps.

"Thanks for today," I say. "This was exactly what I needed."

"Me too, Bangalore boy." She presses her shoulder to mine. "I’ll catch you later?"

I say, "Yeah," and I mean it. "We will meet soon. "

I realize that, although I arrived at Tech Tatva Day 2 with hope, I'm departing with something better as I make my way back towards my hostel under an orange and pink-painted sky. A friend. An actual one.

And perhaps that was all that I ever wanted and needed.