Unfinished Business
(1)
Washington D.C., summer 2023. I’m in a bar. Full disclosure: this is my first time alone in a bar and I don’t drink. Three minutes in, I already felt out of place and thought to myself that this was a terrible idea. I get my usual - a ginger ale, and I keep checking my email to feel slightly less out of place than I already am. Somewhere near the geometric center of the bar, I noticed a pretty girl by herself sipping her drink (probably the only one in the bar who had not already indulged in small talk), so I decided to say hello. Not because she’s a pretty girl at a bar but because she seemed as out of place as I was, and I could feel a shared sense of empathy here. That, and this was supposed to be a networking event.
So now, all thanks to me, this girl has successfully indulged in small talk. We talked about what we do for work and how our week has been. We talked about how difficult it was to find a parking spot at the venue. We talked about what part of the city we lived in and what restaurants we’ve been to lately. A part of me wanted to scream and lie down in traffic. Some of my friends from grad school showed up (phew), and I introduced my new friend, Jenny, to them and them to her. We hung around and talked a little more. When it was finally time to go, Jenny and I talked about something profound - I don’t remember what it was, but I remember how it made me feel. It made me feel like I wanted more. I asked her if she wanted to take a walk outside, she said, “yes”.
And so we did. We took a walk by the Potomac, then around Nats Park. We got ice cream, and we kept talking, but this time our conversations were different. We talked about the universe and how tiny we were in the grand scheme of things; we talked about a spiritual calling, and the human need for a north star to guide us in trying times; we talked about our parents, (ex) partners, close ones, and the ones we dearly miss. We were sitting on the side rails of what appeared to be an empty parking lot, and the street lamp illuminated only half of Jenny’s face. She paused momentarily, smiled, and looked away, so I asked her what she was thinking. “Nothing! Forget about it.”, “Please?” I said. “I imagined us sitting in a park, softly swaying..sighing..smiling.”
Two hours passed, and then another, and then another, until it was time for her to go home, or time for the DC subway system to call it a night, whichever comes first. I’ve been called names on the DC metro, flipped off, and cursed at, but I had never hated the metro as much as I hated it for closing down that night at that moment. We walked together to the metro, talked some more, and then got on the same train. I had to go in the opposite direction, but well, she did not have to know that. It was as if I’d met a long-lost childhood friend, a reflection of myself, a partner in crime, or all three at once. And yet, she was only a stranger at a bar.
On the metro, we exchanged numbers and decided to keep in touch and maybe see each other again. I asked her to let me know when she got home, and she did. Later that night, I saw a notification pop up on my watch, “Elevated heart rates. Have you been exercising?”. No, Apple, I’ve just been…thinking.
Life happened; we texted intermittently but never saw each other again. And I always wondered, what if I had asked her out right then in the metro? What if the metro didn’t have to shut down that very hour? What if she wanted me to, but I didn’t? What if? And just like that, a delicate core memory that was formed that night turned into a series of ‘what ifs’ in my head. Had things been any different -
(2)
// The next part of the story isn’t mine; it’s Rwiddhi’s. But I am happy to take care of it.
A small airport in Tromso, Norway. Rwiddhi is supposed to be on a flight to Oslo fall of 2023. He looks up at the flight information display system and, to his dismay, realizes that this Norwegian Air flight is delayed. Six feet away from him, a complete stranger, also realized that her flight was delayed, and just like that, two lines that were never meant to intersect, intersected.
In the next few hours, they would get to know each other, talk about life, their favorite books, films, experiences, and memories, and forge the strongest and most underrated bond two individuals can have – the bond between two complete strangers. Where there is no judgment and no malice.
Two hours passed, and then another, and then another, and somewhere in their bones, they wished that the Norwegian Air flight had been delayed some more. There was one problem, though. At the time, she was seeing someone, and so their conversations would go to a certain place and then stop. They would come to a stalemate no matter how many times they started over.
Life happened; the flight arrived. When they landed, they exchanged numbers and made plans to see each other in London whenever they got the chance. When it was time for them to part ways, they shared a hug, and she took out her hair tie, cut a piece of it, and gave it to Rwiddhi. This was for him to take care of, and take care of it he did.
(3)
// This part of the story carries a different sentiment. I do believe the cores of all three stories converge to meet somewhere.
Barcelona, 2008. In his book Predictably Irrational, Dan Ariely talks about when he found himself in Barcelona right after a six-week book tour. There, he met Jon, an American tourist who, much like Dan, spoke no Spanish. Jon and Dan shared a wonderful dinner and a deeply personal conversation. They shared things that neither had shared before and had an unusual closeness. Dan uses the phrase ‘long lost brothers’ to describe the connection. Dan and Jon figured that they would not have the chance to meet again, and before sleeping, they exchanged e-mail addresses.
Dan says this was a mistake.
So far, my story, Rwiddhi’s, and Dan’s story have had the same crux. Two out-of-place people meeting unexpectedly at a place where they’re least likely to find a connection, finding an incredible connection, and then never meeting again. So far, we’ve only been unfinished business - leaving a sense of longing and a series of ‘what ifs’ behind. But now, our stories part ways.
Dan met Jon again six months later in New York. This time, things were different for them both. Dan says he had a hard time figuring out why he felt that connection with Jon in the first place. Sure, they had a perfectly amicable lunch, but it was nothing like their first meeting. Dan calls this the ‘effect of relativity,’ where our environment temporarily skews our perception of someone/something; in other words, we view this individual relative to everyone and everything around us. In Barcelona, Jon and Dan were each other’s best alternatives for companionship - everyone around them spoke Spanish, and they were ‘cultural outsiders.’ But back in America, amidst family and friends, their basis for comparison switched back to ‘normal’. Dan shared a piece of advice that I found particularly intriguing: “Understand that relativity is everywhere and that we view everything through its lens, rose-colored or otherwise. When you meet someone in a different country or city, and it seems that you have a magical connection, realize that the enchantment might be limited to the surrounding circumstances. This realization might prevent you from subsequent disenchantment.”
I know, right? I know what you’re thinking. Why did I rationalize and intellectualize this gorgeous piece of romance? Two people find a connection in an unexpected place, and all that’s left behind is a sense of longing and a core memory - it’s beautiful, like in the movies. Why did I take that away from you? It’s like finding out Santa isn’t real. Maybe this was all an illusion, and we just fell victim to the ‘effect of relativity.’ We as human beings love to rationalize our emotions and this is certainly one way to do it.
But on the off chance that this was not an illusion? How does one discern truth from fantasy anyway? What if this was all real, and had things been any different, this blog would’ve had a completely different ending? Who’s to say?
Blog - Rishabh Poddar | Edits - Rwiddhi Chakraborty
