I am thirty-two years old, comfortably enshrouded in the role of a spinster, and reside alone in an apartment high on the eleventh floor, overlooking a cityscape that feels both confining and infinite. If you propose that I need a physical fitness program, consider this: I exercise daily through intricate mental gymnastics — evading straightforward answers, leaping to conclusions, spinning endlessly in circles, and constantly undermining my demanding boss. Honestly, who could possibly require more exertion?

I serve as an Executive Assistant to a singularly unique individual at a non-governmental medical organisation sponsored by the United Nations. My world is awash in shades of grey and blue — the literal hues of my urban environment and the metaphorical tint of my persistent melancholia. Over the years, loneliness has morphed me into a semblance of those old-fashioned mechanical alarm clocks, ringing punctually upon command and relentlessly ticking through duties until someone decides to wind me up again.

However, there came a moment when the mundane masqueraded as the magical. After three decades encased in a self-imposed shell, I felt a seismic shift within. I rose, suddenly regal, a liberated spirit; it was as if I had sprouted wings, or could even inhale the essence of life underwater.

This seismic shift was triggered by his unexpected entrance into my life.

“Hello beautiful madam. I am new here. Could you possibly direct me to the nearest hotel?” His words floated towards me from his pristine ivory white Honda. My response was a bristling, “Hey! Can’t you obnoxious fools cease taunting others on the road?” This sharp retort might surprise you, but imagine if you were me — a four-foot-tall woman with a robust frame and a complexion so dark it merged with the shadows — amidst the Fair and Lovely enchantment.

Despite this abrasive beginning, I found myself inexplicably drawn into his orbit. I couldn’t fathom why I entered his car, why I shared meals and laughter with him, why every word he uttered seemed imbued with significance, or why I allowed myself to fall hopelessly in love with him. All I knew was that whenever he gazed into my eyes and remarked, “You are so beautiful! I can see it, no matter what the world says,” I believed him wholeheartedly. He empowered me to re-envision my self-image and aspire beyond the constraints I had accepted.

Our pivotal encounter unfolded last Monday at Puffs, a local café. As we settled at our table — flanked by an elderly gentleman and a boisterous group of schoolboys — I boldly ordered three Cream Chronicles, while he opted for a simple Irish Coffee. The schoolboys erupted in garrulous laughter at the absurdity of my order. Although such reactions were familiar to me, he was unaccustomed and visibly disturbed by their mockery. Before I could mitigate the situation, pandemonium ensued.

At that critical juncture, I was prepared to forsake everything for him. Yet that very evening, my world was shattered as police officers abruptly arrived at my door to arrest him. No explanations were offered, and his once comforting gaze was now averted, swathed in guilt or perhaps shame.

Driven by a desperate need for clarity, I embarked on a journey to Mumbai, seeking answers at the address he once shared. His mother, a weary soul with sorrowful eyes, greeted me. She lamented, “This is not the first time my son has caused trouble. Perhaps it was our bad luck, or the karma of past deeds that burdened me with a son so mentally tormented. He finds beauty where others see grotesqueness.” A sentence that I did not even think to paraphrase.

“Despite the passage of time, healing eluded us. He grew into an educated, successful man, yet his unconventional perceptions often led to misunderstandings and social ostracisation. Ultimately, his passions, deemed obsessions by many, necessitated psychiatric intervention. Confined to a rehabilitation centre in Delhi, we hoped for a miracle that never came.”

“You are well aware of what transpired after his escape last month. And you must realize, given your education and financial stability, you could find someone more suitable.”

A solitary tear rolled down my cheek as a small smile played upon my lips. Unlucky? No, I considered myself fortunate to be cherished by him, for beauty truly resides in the eyes of the beholder.

With renewed resolve, I resumed my daily routines, now punctuated by weekly pilgrimages to Delhi. Each visit prompts me to contemplate whether there exists a rehabilitation centre vast enough to embrace the entire world.