I stayed primarily in my room. I spent it ruminating in the thoughts of The-light and trying to find out ways to win her. For a few days, I tried to learn her state language so that I could write her poems in her mother tongue. I sent her a few love songs on the email. I would listen to those romantic songs all the time and see both of us in them. ‘Mein Jat yamala pagala deewana, ho rabba, itni si baat na jaana, ke ke oo menu pyar kardi hai, sadde utte wo marti hai,’ was repeatedly playing in my mind.

I did some research on the solar auctions. Many of the firms had bid by forming Special Purpose Vehicles. These SPVs had supposedly been formed only for the bidding purposes and had no other purpose. Some of the winning bidders were selling their solar assets to some particular companies who were buying them in big numbers. I decided to file an RTI to get the total auction data. The website had only the winning bids.

I also worked on the model. I was trying to add some sectors into the model which would make it resemble the Indian transport sector. This would also make my work better. The work was primarily on the excel sheet. There was also an online community of the model users on the web where you could post queries which the model developers would answer. I posted some queries to which I got the replies.

But my heart was not in it. I had gone somewhere deep down. I had stopped talking to friends. I had stopped enjoying movies. I had stopped going shopping and buying stuff. Everything felt futile to me. There was a lot of chaos in my mind as if dust particles were hovering all inside it. My attention span had reduced. I was becoming a deflated and a shrunken balloon.

Something would always ask me to get in touch with The-light. I would try to stop that feeling. It was very difficult. My legs would keep shaking, my hands would tremble. I was afraid she would get married and I would lose the chance. I would keep searching for her details on Google and social media sites to find out her marital status.

 I would tell myself that I am not good for anything, a failure. I am doomed to be sad all my life. That is what my life had turned out to be. I would feel anger, both at The-light and the Professor. I would blame them for putting me in this condition. I would tell myself that I should prove them wrong and then start working on the model to do some good work. 

One of my best friends settled in Canada, was getting married in the North Eastern part of the country. He was marrying out of his caste and so his family was not happy with him. He didn’t expect his family to attend his marriage. Along with another close friend who had come from Kuwait, we flew to Guwahati. A car took us to Bongaigaon, the venue of marriage. We were the only two people from the groom’s side. We stayed in a hotel. In the evening, the bride’s side arranged for us to visit a parlor, for the first and only time in my life. A beautiful young lady worked on my face. She was smiling at me all the time and her touch was soft and silky. I did not enjoy it, stayed mum with a sulky face the whole time. The marriage rituals took place after that. My friend from Kuwait took the responsibility of a family member and performed all the rituals as if he was the father of the groom.

Next morning the marriage happened. Some members of the groom’s family had arrived eventually. We danced on the road as the groom entered the marriage hall. The wedding was as any Indian wedding, the voice of the pundit resounding in the hall with the bride and groom following his orders. I stayed quiet the whole time.

 Next day we were to visit the town of Shillong and one of the wettest places on earth, Cherapunji. It was raining when we entered Cherapunji. We visited a famous cave where one had to walk through long tunnels and underground passages to come out on the other side. We went to Shillong where I saw groups of men and women holding a political agitation in the market place. We had a sumptuous lunch and returned back to Bongaigaon.

On the return journey, we planned to visit the famous Kamakhya temple in Guwahati, a Hindu temple dedicated to the mother goddess Kamakhya. My friend’s newlywed wife instructed him to pick up one of the coins which people threw away in the holy waters surrounding the deity. She said that these coins bring good luck. I overheard her. Who needed luck more than me then, a man grieving and suffering from extreme anxieties! As soon as I entered the temple and got near the pundit, I put my hand in the water and rummaged desperately for a coin. I picked up the first one that hit my fingers and kept the coin in my left hand as the pundit said his prayers. When I came out of the temple, I saw that it was a ten-rupee coin. This brought a little happiness to me, the greater the value of coin, perhaps greater the luck. With the coin with me, I returned back to the Institute.

Since that day, for months to come, the coin would be in my left hand. It was the weapon I had to fight my worries. Whether I was working, taking a bath, taking a shit, or even playing football, I would keep the coin with me. My left hand would clasp it as if it was a bleeding heart. Only when I was sleeping, the coin would be in my pocket. I wanted God to be on my side. What was happening to me was inexplicable. When we are in disarray, God is our ray of light.

Any decision I had to make, I would put the coin in my palms, roll my fingers over it, take my hands to my forehead and wait for God to speak to me. I would wait and wait till there was some voice in my head that showed me the way forward. It was getting difficult for me to even make simple decisions. My mind was so full of emotions and feelings, I could hardly think straight. The coin gave me a sense of calm and security.

There was another foreign PhD student on campus. I had seen her before, her eyes used to shine like a gemstone. One day, I saw her at the cigarette shop. She came over to me to talk. We talked for a while after which she asked me if I was free in the evening. We met in the evening and talked at the chai tapri on campus. She was laughing at the stories I was telling her about my undergraduate days. I asked her if she wanted to come to my room and she nodded in a yes.

We started watching a movie. Her hand was close to mine. I felt the urge and kissed it. Then I kissed her arms. She rose up and went to the balcony. We talked a little. I then rose and kissed her on the lips. That was my first kiss in life. It felt so good. We went to bed and started making out.

I felt like an animal while doing it. My animalistic feelings erupted and I felt like violating her. I saw The-light standing near the bed. I stopped midway. We were still clothed and in foreplay. We lay down like that. She slept and I stayed awake the whole night, anxious. In the morning, she hugged me and went away. Her smell was lingering on the bed. I cursed myself the whole day for not going through, searched her in the evening, and asked her out again. She refused.

Sometimes I would want to get out of all this and meet the Professor and talk to him. He had a note written on his door that one should never meet him without an appointment. I would be afraid of writing to him so I just went. Before knocking on his door, I would wait and talk to myself outside afraid to go in. Once I hovered around the academic building for two hours before knocking on his door. When he saw me, the now familiar look of frustration which I had seen on his face often, came out. He told me to go and meet other professors of the committee. He would hardly give me more than five minutes in which clear instructions were given. He was a busy man. I could not tell him anything that was happening with me. He too never contacted me.