Mumbai University was chaos central as hordes and hordes of charter buses lined up the parkway. Teachers, students and general faculty alike were bustling about getting the last minute details underway and gearing up for what could possibly be the biggest international consortium that the university would ever pull off. Indeed, it was welcome week for international students. "Welcome to Mumbai University" a silver and green banner read. Angad, Josh and Prithvi stood amidst the commotion questioning their earlier decision. "Yeh kahan phass gaye, yaar" Josh said, irritably. Prithvi offered a sheepish expression, while Angad just shrugged. They saw Aaliya pushing through the crowd, trying to get to them. Prithvi's face instantly lit up, while Josh and Angad stifled their laughs.
"H-h-hey guys" Aaliya said, out of breath. Prithvi met her eyes and they both held the gaze until Angad coughed. Snapping out of it, and clearly embarrassed, Aaliya handed them three folders. "This has everything you need to know about your exchange buddy." She turned to leave, but turned back around. "Oh, Angad, we weren't able to find a picture of Kripa for the folder, so will you just come with me?"
"Sure" Angad shrugged. He was the least bit interested at this point. Angad had been having a strange feeling since morning, his already anxiety stricken heart seemed to sink deeper into the depths of apprehension. He had no idea what fate had in store for him.
Angad and Aaliya again pushed through an ever-growing crowd and made their way to the main table. "I'm looking for Kripa Sharma" Aaliya said to one of the coordinators. The woman looked around and furrowed her brow. "She was just here, must've gone to the rest room." Aaliya sighed. "Angad will you do me a huge favor?" Before Angad could answer, Aaliya continued. "Please look for Kripa, it shouldn't be too hard considering everyone else has a picture of their exchange buddy." She said it all in one breath. After a moment's hesitation, Angad agreed. Off he went into the University, the hunt for Kripa Sharma from South Africa was on.
Meanwhile, in the maingrounds, the crowd had dissipated and a few odd groups stood, scattered, still chatting away. Sohan, Prithvi, Josh and Sanjana stood around some benches, chatting away. Josh was trying his best, in vain, to make passes at Sanjana while Sohan and Prithvi talked about basketball. The four had instantly bonded, finding much in common. Sanjana, who was clearly, irritated decided to go look for her sister, Kripa.
She sat with her back straight up, book in one hand, and a coffee in the other. Her flowing brown hair cascaded down past her shoulders. Once in a while, she'd sip slightly from her coffee mug. Finally, something in the book caught her eye, as she jerked up. She started to read out loud.
"How beautiful, how beautiful you streamed upon my sight,
In glory and in grandeur, as a gorgeous sunset-light!
How softly, soul subduing, fell your words upon mine ear,
Like low aerial music when some angel hovers near!
What tremulous, faint ecstasy to clasp your hand in mine,
Till the darkness fell upon me of a glory too divine!
The air around grew languid with our intermingled breath,
And in your beauty's shadow I sank motionless as death.
I saw you not, I heard not, for a mist was on my brain--
I only felt that life could give no joy like that again.
And this was Love; I knew it not, but blindly floated on,
And now I'm on the ocean waste, dark, desolate, alone;
The waves are raging round me--I'm reckless where they guide;
No hope is left to right me, no strength to stem the tide.
As a leaf along the torrent, a cloud across the sky,
As dust upon the whirlwind, so my life is drifting by.
The dream that drank the meteor's light--the form from Heav'n has flown--
The vision and the glory, they are passing--they are goneโฆ."
Before she could finished, a deep male voice continued from the back:
"Oh! love is frantic agony, and life one throb of pain;
Yet I would bear its darkest woes to dream that dream again."
She stiffened. "Lady Wilde fan? And a male at that?" She still had his back to him. His voice stirred something in him. He had heard he before, but where? "N-no, it's just one of my favorite poems" he stammered. Angad was extremely embarrassed. Had he just owned up to the fact that he liked poetry? That too, mushy, romantic poetry? Who was this girl? Before he opened his mouth to speak, she spun around. Angad was astounded.
"Hi" she said, in her husky voice. "I'm Kripa Sharma"
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