Kabir asks. Prangya answers.
The room was unusually quiet. Outside, rain tapped gently against the window. Kabir had a notebook in his hand—not because he wanted to write, but because he wanted to remember. Every answer. Every pause. Every smile that appeared before a difficult truth.
He looked at Prangya.
Kabir: If I ask you a hundred questions today... will you answer all of them?
Prangya: If they're honest questions... yes.
Kabir smiled.
Kabir: What's your favourite colour?
Prangya: White... philosophically. It's a mixture of seven different colours, and I love that idea. But if you ask me what I actually prefer... probably black. White demands perfection. One stain and everyone notices. Black carries its scars quietly.
Kabir looked up from his notebook.
Kabir: That's a very "you" answer.
She laughed.
Kabir: Favourite song?
Prangya: I don't think I have one. I like soothing songs... calming songs. But more than music... I like talking to someone. A peaceful conversation heals me more than any playlist ever could. Good conversations are medicines.
Kabir nodded slowly.
Kabir: Your favourite quote?
She didn't even think.
Prangya: Your mind is your enemy.
There was silence.
Kabir didn't disagree.
Kabir: What's the best advice you've ever received?
Prangya: Do one percent of your dream every day.
Kabir: And the worst?
She looked away.
Prangya: "Everything will become normal with time."
Kabir noticed how quickly her expression changed.
Kabir: Why?
Prangya: Because some things don't become normal. You simply become better at carrying them.
Kabir stopped writing for a moment.
Kabir: One person you can't imagine living without?
She looked directly into his eyes.
Prangya: Kabir.
He smiled awkwardly.
Kabir: One person you wish was dead?
She remained silent for a few seconds.
Prangya: No one.
Another pause.
"...If I really have to answer... maybe myself, during certain phases."
Kabir didn't write that answer immediately.
Instead, he looked at her a little longer.
Kabir: What's your purpose of living?
She folded her hands.
Prangya: To learn new things. Maybe I'm selfish. I want to experience actual freedom... freedom from expectations... from responsibilities... from constantly belonging to someone. One day I just want to become a silent observer of life.
Kabir smiled.
Kabir: What makes you happiest?
Her face softened.
Prangya: Being with someone I genuinely like... watching their expressions while they speak... noticing the little things they don't even realise they do.
Kabir: And what hurts you the most?
Prangya: Disrespect.
The answer came instantly.
Kabir: Suppose your partner earns less than you. Does that matter?
She shook her head.
Prangya: Not at all... if I'm madly in love with him.
Kabir: And if you realise within a year that you've chosen the wrong person?
She thought carefully.
Prangya: First I'll try to fix it. Relationships deserve effort. But if nothing changes... I'll leave. Staying unhappy isn't loyalty.
Kabir nodded.
Kabir: If someone lies to you about their past?
She smiled faintly.
Prangya: I won't shout.
I'll become quiet.
If it hurts... I'll probably cry later, alone.
Kabir understood that answer more than she knew.
Kabir: If your partner cheats on you?
She surprised him.
Prangya: I'd probably want to understand why. Maybe even confront the situation in a strange way instead of immediately walking away. But trust would never be the same again.
Kabir raised an eyebrow.
Kabir: And if you're the one who falls for someone else?
Prangya: Divorce before cheating.
Always.
Kabir smiled proudly.
Kabir: Then according to you... what exactly is cheating?
She answered slowly.
Prangya: The moment my body... and more importantly my mind... starts imagining someone else... comparing my partner with another person in everything... that's cheating.
Kabir underlined that sentence.
Kabir: What kind of people attract you?
Prangya: Listeners.
Shy people.
People who don't interrupt.
People who understand silence.
Kabir: What qualities do you want in your partner?
She counted on her fingers.
Prangya: Introverted... because I'm extroverted.
Someone who listens more than he speaks.
A warm voice.
Respect in the way he looks at me.
Not overly emotional.
Someone who feels safe.
Kabir smiled mischievously.
Kabir: Physical preferences?
She laughed.
Prangya: Nothing extraordinary.
Average height.
Broad shoulders.
A little chubby.
Cute.
Someone who knows cooking.
And honestly... these preferences keep changing.
Kabir: Would you have sex on the first date?
She answered without embarrassment.
Prangya: If I'm genuinely comfortable... and it's something I want... yes. Comfort matters more than timelines.
Kabir simply nodded.
Kabir: On a date... who pays?
She grinned.
Prangya: If he invited me randomly... he pays.
Fair enough.
Kabir: Have you ever asked someone out?
She smiled proudly.
Prangya: Yes.
Kabir laughed.
Kabir: Finally...
Tell me your favourite childhood memory.
Her eyes immediately lit up.
Prangya: There are many...
Once, when I was in Class Three, it started raining heavily. My friends and I had no way to reach home. Suddenly my father arrived in his auto-rickshaw and dropped every single one of them home. The next day all of them thanked me. I still remember how proud I felt... not because of me... but because of him.
She smiled.
Another memory surfaced.
Prangya: I once won a fancy dress competition. People loved my acting. I won two hundred rupees... and my father looked happier than I was. After that everyone started calling me "Nanaa."
Kabir laughed.
Prangya: In Class Six I had memorised everything about Mohenjo-Daro and Harappa. My teacher kept asking me questions and I answered all of them. She even praised me in another class. Though... she also made me slap my classmates while she stepped out.
Kabir burst into laughter.
Kabir: That's the most Indian-school story I've ever heard.
Prangya laughed too.
Then, almost as if confessing a harmless crime...
Prangya: And yes...
I had a very serious crush on one of my teachers.
Kabir closed the notebook.
He looked at her quietly.
"I asked a hundred questions today..."
She looked back.
"...and somehow I know you a little more."
Prangya smiled.
"You'll still have a thousand left."
Kabir nodded.
"I hope I'll have enough lifetimes to ask them."