There exists a type of consciousness closely intertwined with mental clogging — a cognitive barricade if you will — where thoughts that a person normally gets when he feels fear the most attempts to gush out in a stream of self-epiphany, but gets blocked out by an external circumstance that poses a bigger threat.

The first time I felt it was when I discovered the true nature of Ananya.

Ananya would always seem distant to me, as if she had dug herself into her own little psychological dimension, one that occasionally interacted with my own. But for the most part, she was in a hole that would not open up to her surroundings. For a brief moment, she would act like a normal human — buy groceries — argue with people — reply to my questions — but it often felt like she was forcing a role out of her body — and that she could be anywhere else other than here. My deceptions would often fail to fool her eyes, too. But it won’t matter to her — not even an acknowledgement — she would go back to stare at the sky.

It really caught me off guard when she agreed to date me. I was only joking at first, planting the idea of us being together. It was merely an attempt for me to conceal enough from the pandering looks I ran away from. I wanted to isolate myself from the eyes of the outliers, and for that I needed a girlfriend. I didn’t need Ananya. It could’ve been anyone.

I don’t believe in fate, but if there was anything bigger that played it’s role, it had to be that I ended up choosing her for the role of my girlfriend. For me, an emotionally unavailable human being would have done the job, to leave me alone where I needed most of my time to be spent on — and I got that with her. It was easy, really. I would tell her I can’t make it for her birthday, and she would respond with a “Um, okay,”. It could have been the biggest date night, or I could have forgotten to buy her tampons two days in a row, she wouldn’t mind at all. It was all a game to her. Nothing I did could falter her enough to get mad or annoyed with me.

Which should have been the perfect deal considering my situation, but if you had to ask me why it wasn’t, I can’t really put a finger on it.

It became a goal for me to make her mad, and I would work hard for it. I would forget to put her phone on charge on purpose, expecting her to yell at me the next day. I would keep the toilet seats all the way up — that should rile her up! But no matter what I came up with, she would almost never care. The most I have gotten out of her was a click of tongue when I misplaced her spoon in the sock drawer.

One time I planned a Movie date. I had work nearby and I was going to to sneak out in the middle of the movie to deal with it. I just needed to be there looking less suspicious, and that’s what I had my girlfriend for. If she questioned my absence, I could just tell her that I had explosive diarrhoea in the middle of the movie and I had to spend most of my time in the bathroom. All I had to do was make it back before the movie ended. I pitched the date idea to her and as expected, she agreed, so we got on the next taxi. She wore a purple dress, with a red velvet handbag that I gifted her on the one-month anniversary. She said she liked it, but I highly doubt she liked anything at all. Heck it could’ve been toilet paper and she would have said the same thing.

We would not talk for most of the ride, except a few comments about people outside the car, or the fact that the night sky looked especially clear today. She seemed to respond to the second comment about the sky. She leaned over to my side of the window, pushing me to my seat, and then looked up at the sky. I didn’t ask her why she couldn’t do it at her own window. She just did it, and I didn’t stop her. As she put one of her hands over my neck to touch the back of my car seat, I felt her breath through the buttons of my shirt, her earring sparkling from the moonlight outside. For that specific moment, she had the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen in my life. I wanted to turn away — and look at what she was looking — I had to — but before I could pull myself from her eyes, she went back to her own position. I’ll never know what she looked for in the sky then, but when I would turn to my side to look at her, I would realise I actually never saw her face as clear as I saw at that moment.

If I had to describe her face, I couldn’t do it in a sentence. It was not a face that would catch any eyes, or make people take a double-look. No major asymmetric structures or eye-catching sparkes. It was just the average face anyone would come across on the street and then forget it immediately. But it was a face that I paid attention to at that time. I began to wonder if that’s how she had always looked. Back when I asked her to be my girlfriend in that parking lot — did she look like this? What face did she make when I refused to pay for her shopping delivery? I wanted to know.

We would soon reach the theatre and I would end up not coming out of the auditorium midway as I had planned. I would end up watching the entire movie by her side, often times looking at her when the screen had bright flashes. The movie itself was a mediocre corny attempt at romance, which I initially thought she would like and that it would make sense for me to not be with her. But again, I stayed back to watch it. I wanted to know what face she made at different stages of the movie. Did she tear up when the heroine died? Did she laugh at those corny jokes, and did she want to eat popcorn in the interval? I was suddenly interested in what she felt. During one of the scenes, I caught her flinching. It was like a tiny rabbit if it saw someone attack it. I don’t know what made by body act the way it did then, but I put my arm over her. It was almost as if I wanted to protect her from the thing she was flinching from. I wanted to cage the little rabbit up in the smallest cage I could find and only feed it carrots myself — maybe that way it won’t ever get scared in it’s life.

She seemed to get startled when I put my hands over. She looked over for a second, adjusted herself — leaning towards me, and then continued to watch the movie. Again, she did not really care what I did to her, she just went along with it. Out of the blue, I found myself sweating up in my forehead in a perfectly air conditioned room. A few minutes would pass and my hand would go numb — sending pins and needles up my elbow. Yet, I had no desire to move it.

During one of those side glances I notice her headband. It is something anyone would notice at their first glance, but it was the first time I saw her wear it. It was plain white, and had a pink flowery pattern printed on it, it held her hair tight — except a rare one or two strands that decided to disobey the hierarchy to stand out. I couldn’t pay more attention to her hair strands because of the varying light and their brightness during the film, but I told myself I should probably investigate it later at home.

I quickly reminded myself what I had been here for, and pulled my phone out to check if there were any messages directed at me. There were none. But just for good measure, I went into the group chat and told them I couldn’t make it. The message was seen by three people, there was no reply. I closed my phone and put it back in my pocket.

Ananya was still watching the movie, leaning on my arm. It was something that I usually wouldn’t care about — but this instance made me hyper aware of my surroundings. it was different from all those indifferent times and indifferent situations.

When the movie got over, we got up from the seat. Ananya watched a couple in front of us leave a half filled bucket of popcorn.

“What a waste, that would’ve cost a lot of money,” I say.

“Yeah,” she says, turning towards the stairway down to exit. “Why do people do it?” We go down the exit, a worker in a uniform asks us to fill out a survey. We decline and walk away.

We leave the mall and reach the road. The night sky is on a display, with a slight cold breeze to fill in the gaps of the darkness within the trees. Leaves crackle in a pleasant tone, and Ananya rubs her hands.

I picked up my phone to book a taxi back home, and for the first time that I would remember, Ananya would ask me something.

“Hey, do you want to stay out for some more time?”

This was very unusual of her to want something. Maybe I just didn’t notice the other times she did, and this was the first time it hit my brain that she sometimes tried to get through me too.

“Sure, what for?” I say, navigating the map with my fingers to enter the pick up location for the taxi.

“I don’t know, I’m craving tea now.”

I look up from my phone and at her.

“Tea?”

It’s 11.00 p.m.

“Yeah, tea.”

I turned both ways, other than the mall that we came out of, there was nothing open on the road. It was dark, cold and deserted, with dogs howling far, far away.

“Sure, let’s get tea.”

I didn’t know how it ended that way, but me and Ananya began walking on the road, looking for a rare tea shop that might open for late night outercity travellers.

She kept rubbing her elbows with both of her palms or either side, her temples squeezed and her lips quivering.

“Here, take this,” I say, removing my jacket and putting it over her shoulders.

“Thanks.”

This time, I look at the right side of her face. Her hair covered half of her ears and her eyes looked forward. She wasn’t searching for tea stalls. It was my job.

“There’s usually roadside shops that open late at night,” I try to defeat the silence between us. “I don’t know if there’s one nearby, though.”

“Oh,” she says, walking straight ahead. She doesn’t look at me. “Would be nice if there is.”

The more I walk beside her, the more I come to know how quiet she usually gets. It is during this time that I discovered she likes to hum. She begins to hum a tune that I don’t recognize. I try to follow the pattern of her faint voice and figure out what it was, but fail. I give up trying to find what it was and just start to take it in as it is. Maybe it was her voice, but it was really smooth. It could put any baby to sleep, and any insomniac extremely relaxed. I wanted to tell her how sweet her voice was, but I didn’t in case she would get aware and stop humming. So I kept quiet and let her do her thing.

Soon, I spot a small light from a shop across. It was a box-shop. Really tiny, one that sold cigarettes and pan masala. Occasionally, the vendor would prepare tea in a kettle at his house and would sell them here. I was hoping it was one of the cases where that happened.

Me and Ananya reach the tiny shop and I ask the vendor if he had tea. He said he did. I then pay 20 rupees and ask for two glasses.

The vendor takes out a metal kettle and pours its contents into a paper cup. He didn’t even fill the cup to its brim, if I had to guess, it was barely three fourth. And one of the cups had more tea than the other.

I gave the bigger one to Ananya and took the other one in my hand.

We spot a nearby tree that had stone slabs for a seat and we sit there. I sit on the opposite side, facing her, as I watch her blow into the cup to make the tea lukewarm enough for her lips.

The breeze then hit me from behind, cooling the sweat from my back, and then messing up Ananya’s hair. She adjusts it, pushing the ones on the forehead back, and then looks down at her cup of tea. Her purple dress also did its own dance with the wind and then calmed itself down.

I take the first sip of my tea. Bitter.

“It’s coffee,” Ananya says, looking at my confusion.

“Huh? Did he mistake tea and coffee? But you wanted tea…” I say, getting up. I was going to ask the vendor for a change.

“Don’t. Not needed. It doesn’t matter anyway.”

“But you said you craved tea.”

“Well now I don’t.”

For the next few minutes, we quietly sip our own cups. The vendor behind us was preparing to close his shop. He came over to us and told us to get home soon as there won’t be any vehicles around anymore, and that it’s getting late. I nodded and then he was gone. I thought about telling him the mismatch of our order, but I didn’t since she didn’t seem to care much.

The bottom part of the coffee began to get cold because of the wind and it was not fun sipping it anymore, so I gulp the remaining coffee and then crush the paper cup with my hands. I look over at Ananya to see if she’s done with hers.

She looks at the sky with the same intensity she did back at the taxi. It was the same look of yearning, like she was searching for something. Coffee cup still in her hands, the wind blew some coffee off, but she was too busy looking at the night sky. She tightened her lips shut, her lower lip pressed against her inner teeth, a look I haven’t seen her make that often.

“What are you looking at?” I ask, finally. It was a question I wanted to ask back at the taxi as well. It went off my mental buffer and reached its intended destination. It didn’t matter if there was no response — all I wanted at that moment was to ask her that, and I did.

“The stars,” she says. “today is the only time of the year when Mars is most visible to the naked eye.”

“I did not know that,” I say, looking at the same sky as her. It was beautiful. The lack of lights really brought out the astronomical optics to the ends of my eyesight. Most stars that weren’t visible in city lights were now visible. I spotted three stars in a line, and then close to it, I saw Sirius.

“Do you see that?” I say, pointing to the sky. She could not obviously say what I was pointing to as she stood far from me. But I pointed anyway. She looked for a moment and then said “No, see what?”

“That. Those three stars, in a straight line.” I said, walking close to her. I was by her side, showing her my favouriteconstellation of the sky. “The Orion belt.”

“Ah, yes I do, it is beautiful,” she says, closing one eye shut. She then opens them both back up after she finds the stars I point her to. “That’s sirius” I say, “brightest star in the night sky.”

I look down at her. I could see the entire universe through her eyes.

“Where’s Mars?” I ask her.

“I’m searching.”

“You said it’s visible today…”

“Yeah, it is supposed to be. It is.”

“That’s…”

“That’s Jupiter.” She says.

It must have been Jupiter indeed. A strange orange dot. Something so big and menacing, merely a size of a grain in the vast blackness.

“It must be on the other side of the sky,” she says, almost sounding dejected by it. “I can’t see Mars.”

“I didn’t know you were into Mars,” I tell her.

She looks away, not responding to my comment. It was one of those moments she decided to spend her mind in her own dimension, closing off from any external prompts. An indication she often does when she doesn’t want to answer my question.

“Let’s go home, it’s getting late,” I say, taking her empty coffee cup from her hand.

“Okay.”

It was indeed getting late. Late enough that I was afraid we wouldn’t get a taxi at this hour.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long for a taxi guy to accept our request, and soon enough he was there.

“Surprised we didn’t get cancelled like, five times,” I tell her as the taxi pulls over to the side. I tell the driver instructions to go over the construction blockages on the way and then open the door for Ananya. She gets in. Her shoulders felt soft to my hands as I pushed her in to her seat. I get in on the same side. The ride back home mimicked the other one, but she leaned against my shoulder. It was one of the most surprising things to happen since the start of our relationship. For both of us to do something out of the norm — like go for a walk and talk about the stars. I was honestly confused as to what she wanted from our relationship. I never actually asked her — we both were sort of indifferent in that aspect.

As I looked at her asleep face against my shoulders. I began to question everything. It must have shown in my face, because the taxi driver looked at me from his back view mirror. “You okay, sir?” He asked.

“Yes, fine. Just a bit claustrophobic.”

He kindly opened the windows on my side, sending a cold wind against my face. I wanted to close it back, but I did not want to come across as rude. The wind must have made Ananya cold, because she rolled over to the other side of the car in her barren-sleep induced state. For some reason, I hated the cold wind that was coming.

When we reached our home, I woke Ananya up gently. She didn’t need to be told twice, as she twitched her eyes open. Without being told, she opened her side of the doors and got out. I asked the driver about the fare, and he told me the price was 200 rupees more than the norm. It was late at night, I couldn’t be bothered to bargain so I paid the amount he asked and got out of the car.

Ananya stood near the door, using my jacket as her blanket. I walked up to the door and reached out to my pocket.

“You have the key,” I told her.

“I don’t.”

“Huh, it must be in the pocket,” I say, reaching out to my jacket that she was wearing. I put my hands through every single pocket. It wasn’t there.

“Did you leave it in the taxi?” She asks me, yawning.

“Must have,” I say, turning back to the road to see if the car had left. I watch it leave the corner of the street. I pick my phone up and dial the driver. I tell him I left the key in his car and ask him to come back up. He sounded annoyed, but he agreed he would come back.

The car arrived for the second time at our doorstep. I again apologised to the driver, who seemed restless. I told him it would only take a couple of minutes and then I switched on the flash on my phone. I looked around the car seat for a while and I didn’t find the key. Then, the flash on my phone turned off, I turned the screen my way to look at the battery percentage that sat below 15%. Most phones disable flash below that range.

This was not good.

I then asked the driver if he had a flash. He clicked his tongue in an annoying way and told me the key must not be here.

He was probably right, but I didn’t want to give up.

“It must be here, sir. Let me just check again.” I say, as he flashes his light from his seat. I place my phone on the seat behind and crawl below it to look for the keys. Then I check the corners, bottle holders, and on the sides of the doors. I do not find the key.

“Sorry to bother you,” I say as I retreat back. I hear the driver curse something under his own breath and then leave.

I walk back to Ananya, dejected. She pushed her forehead against the door, trying to sleep standing up.

“Couldn’t find the keys. Did you not have them?”

She turns, her eyes half-closed. “I don’t know. You had them the moment we left.” I check my pockets again. And again. I couldn’t find anything except my wallet and my- My phone!

My phone was in the car! I kept it in when the flash turned off and left it there. I was dumbfounded at my stupidity. I turn back to see if the car is still there. Nope. This time, it was gone for good.

“My phone’s gone,” I tell her, or myself. I don’t know. “In the car — I’m so dumb!” Ananya seemed to clear off her sleep and finally took in what I said.

“You left your phone in the car?”

“Yeah, when I was checking for the key…”

“And the key..?”

“That is gone too-”

“Did you lose both the key and the phone-?”

“I…I think I did.”

“I don’t have a spare key,”

“I know.. I don’t have a spare phone either.”

“But the key is more valuable — where is that?”

“My phone has all my work contacts-”

“Where’s the key?”

“I don’t have it.”

“Goddamnit, Naresh!”

“How will I contact my work without my phone?”

“How will we go in without a key? We don’t have a spare.”

“We can call a locksmith!”

“Okay, do it.”

“I don’t have my phone!”

“Oh my god!”

“Where is your phone?”

“It’s dead. It died before the movie.”

“Why do you not have your phone charged?”

“You removed it in the morning!”

“So it’s my fault?”

“Who else?”

“You could have charged it after!”

“You could have not lost the keys!”

“I didn’t lose the keys…”

“Then where are they?”

“I don’t know- they’re missing”

“So you did lose them?”

“No, they’re just gone.”

“Gone where,”

“Shut up, I don’t know.”

“No, you shut up. I can’t sleep here. Find my keys now!”

“It’s all your fault, Ananya!”

“My fault? My fault!?”

“None of this would have happened if you didn’t wanna drink fucking tea in god knows where for whatever!”

“Oh it’s not because you were so irresponsible? And besides, it was coffee. You couldn’t even buy tea the right way.”

“You told me you didn’t want to change it.”

“What would you have done? Change coffee for tea when I had already taken a sip? You couldn’t buy the right one in the first place?”

“How is it my fault if he gave the wrong one?”

“Sure, none of this is your fault — that we’re stranded in front of our own fucking house!”

“Yeah, it’s my fault I wanted to spend my time on a fun little date with you watching a movie”

“You were too busy texting your ‘work buddies’ to watch a movie with me-”

“You have no idea how numb my arms were when you fucking leaned on me for half the movie. You wouldn’t move a fucking inch!”

“You don’t know how uncomfortable it was to have your big hands all over my neck for an hour and a half!”

“You must be glad I can’t text people now — my phone’s gone!”

“I don’t care about your stupid phone! Where are the keys?”

“I don’t know where they are!”

“Oh my god, it’s so cold!”

“Says the one wearing my fucking jacket-”

“I don’t want it. Take-” Ananya says, flicking my jacket towards me in pure resentment. We hear a click on the floor.

We both collectively look down. And then at each other.

It was a pair of keys on the floor. The exact one we lost.

The look of realisation set in her face and she turned red. The keys were on the inner pocket — the one place I forgot to check.

I picked up the key, plugged it into the socket and opened the door.

That night, I sat alone on the sofa to think about everything. I would often spend hours dwelling on these meagre thoughts that pass by during the quietest hours of my life. Sometimes I would hear Ananya breathe in her sleep, which would then put my stream of thoughts into a disarray before I could actually fall asleep myself.

This time that wasn’t the case.

The lights were dim, and the ceiling proved to be quite an interesting thing to stare at. It would usually lead to me having an existential crisis — one that would dig itself into a invariably big hole of anxiety and the imminent terror of death — which surprisingly diminishes into a fraction of its value by the time I wake up in the morning and watch myself brush in the mirror.

The latter part of the whole ordeal proved to be a solace in these mentally tough times. To know that maybe all the thoughts I’m having would disappear at the sight of sunlight, to hide itself from the bleakness of the world for some more time. Yet they returned every single night, only for me to dig deeper and deeper inside till I lost myself with the grasps of reality.