Sirop de Vanille

Pour me some honey and stir the tea only thrice. Don’t let it brew too much, it makes me wrinkle my pretty nose.

Pretty?

Yes. Pass me the Marie biscuits please.

Are you trying to lose weight?

Do I need to?

Do you?

Ugh.

You don’t! Honest.

So I can finish the mousse?

Vanilla… Vanilla smile…

Really?

Mmm… really.

—

He had gifted her a vanilla lip balm on their second so-called date. She had insisted they go to Modern Bazaar after their first movie together. She had been contemplating the slightly expensive purchase of Vanilla beans and a white chocolate slab… all the while talking about how she wanted to make a white chocolate mousse when he had taken the shopping basket from her and added those two items to it. He had marched on ahead while she ran after him adding items to the basket. He had announced his need for vanilla pancakes and she had rolled her very Indian eyes.

I am not going to slave over dinner AND make pancakes for you!

I will help!

Yeah right.

Oh come on! I can help. I can!

Hmmm…

He had then added bacon to the basket and said, see I can fry this. I can help.

Fine.

She had stomped off looking for pineapple while he had followed her around the very busy, over-stocked tiny match box of a shop.

You know… Ham and pineapple might not be that amazing an…

The look had silenced him for a while.

Ohhh! Jalapenos! And crackers…! You are going to make canapes! Awesome! I can’t believe you…

Yes, considering you’ve known me for an entire week. You should be aware of my culinary skills.

And your idiosyncracies.

I don’t have any idio…

Yeah right. You just re-arranged the stuff in your shopping basket. According to the recipes… I’m guessing.

She had laughed uncomfortably and shrugged. She had wondered then if he would cancel their next “date”. He had handed her a Fab India Vanilla lip balm in the evening. And kissed her oh so softly when she had stared at it and asked if her lips were chapped.

No… you’ll smile me a vanilla smile. Its for me.

—

She had packed. Meticulously. Ticking everything off her list. It was going to be an awesome trip. Kajal, Lip balm, vanilla of course, moisturiser, sunscreen, and a hairbrush was nestled carefully in her handbag. Her luggage had been checked in. One week of Goa. With him. She was smiling a lot. A lot.

—

It was a beautiful evening… the kind in which the cool breeze teases you, and the sea tells you long forgotten stories. The sun carresses you lightly and the sea in the air leaves your lips salty. She lit up a cigarrette while she waited for him with bottle of port wine, plastic glasses and some ridiculously spicy chips. She stared at the waves lulling the beach to a peaceful deep sleep. She stared at the sky… changing colour… oh so lazily. She leaned back and inhaled, exhaled… inhaled, exhaled. She forgot about time and space and him.

Wow. You found us a perfect spot.

She turned to him slowly. Collecting her thoughts, waking up to him, to reality, to conversation. Her smile slowly spread across her features. He smiled back his crooked smile and she couldn’t stop herself from giving him one of those warm hugs. He held on to her for the longest time, she leaned on him, and whispered about how the clouds told stories… she asked him to listen to the sea and feel the sand under his feet… He inhaled the soft fragrance of shampoo and moisturiser… He could smell Vanilla… faint and seductive and teasing…

I love this.

This?

Yes. This.

Ditto.

—

This doesn’t have enough honey!

Of course it does.

Then the tea isn’t brewed properly.

I’ve been making tea for you, as per our “deal”, for the past 5 years. I know how you like your tea.

Well… I don’t like this particular cup. And for the record, it’s been 4 years, not 5.

Really??

Yes.

No. 5.

She rolled her eyes at him.

Alright alright… you’ve known me for 5 years… but the tea deal… it’s only been 4 years since then.

I made tea for you… that day you made those pancakes…

Masala chai? And darjeeling are different. Masala is way easier…

Yes, it only has some 5 ingredients extra… in some “proportion”!

Oh Please. We only moved in together 3 years back. So, technically, you only have 3 years of practice…

Just drink the damn tea.

It’s NOT nice.

Fine. I’ll make another cup.

You will…! Thank you…

She smiled happily… and stretched lazily…

It doesn’t have to end… does it?

End. Why would it end?

All good things do…

No. Some don’t.

So…?

No end.

For now…