Chapter 2

Before reaching her destination Sanvika travelled a lot. Just with a backpack and a camera. She travelled through the coastal line of India. And saw many people… and visited museums and emporiums. Took photos of old houses. She even went to Tibet. Some of her best photographs are from there.

Finally, she settled down on Goa. Because she met Mr Flower there. Now that is another story… Mr Flower aka Shardul Barve was a traveller too. He was a writer. He wrote about architecture and heritage buildings.

They met at a house. Sanvika was walking and she saw a beautiful old house. She wondered if she could ask permission to take photos of the house. She opened the gate and walked in but there was nobody there. She rang the calling bell, and no one answered.

“There is nobody inside.” She heard a voice and turned around to see a lean and fair young man of about 30. “May I ask what your purpose of the visit is?” He asked very politely.

“Are you the owner of this house?” She asked.

“No… No. This is my first time here as well.” He looked at her confused. Sanvika was wearing her camera around her neck and had a pedal pusher a t-shirt and a cap on. “I obviously took the permission of the owners. They are currently abroad.”

“Ah…” Sanvika uttered nodding. “Then can I just click a few pictures of the house?”

“You came to take pictures of the house?”

“Yes. Because it looked so pretty.”

“Are you an architecture student?”

“Huh? No… I was just walking, and the house looked so beautiful.” She smiled, carefree. Shardul thought afterwards that maybe the moment his heart started melting down for Sanvika.

“You can take photos.” He said smiling.

“Thanks.” Sanvika smiled widely and took a few steps behind and started clicking pictures of the house. Shardul was just watching her. After a second, Sanvika got conscious of that and looked at him, “You can do what you came to do.”

“I also came to just look at the house.” He said.

Sanvika just nodded. As she clicked more pictures, she saw that the guy was walking around the house writing some things down in a small notebook. After a while, he sat down on the steps of the house and continued writing. She came closer to see… “You have nice handwriting,” She said. He looked up and smiled. “Thanks.”

He closed the book and got up. A dried flower fell down from the book. Shardul missed it and walked ahead. Sanvika picked it up. It was a Pinkish-purple Flower pressed between two pages. Thin as paper. “Excuse me…” she called. Shardul turned back. “This fell down.” She held the flower up.

“Oh… Thanks…” He went to take it back. He took it back very carefully. “Really thanks. It’s kind of important to me.”

“Okay. What flower is that?”

“You don’t know…? This is a common flower. It’s Maharashtra’s state flower.”

“I have seen it. I just don’t know the name.”

“Pride of India. That’s what it is called.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. Seriously. Pride of India. In Marathi it’s Tamhan. It’s a very common flower in the Konkan region”

Sanvika nodded. They walked out of the premises of the house together. Greeted each other polite goodbyes. And parted ways.

Sanvika did not meet Shardul until three days later. She was eating at an open restaurant by the beach and Shardul walked by. She recognised him instantly. “Oh. Mr Flower.” She uttered. She did not know his name, of course, because they never exchanged names. Shardul looked around.

“Oh…”

“Hi…” She waved with a smile.

“So, we meet again?”

“Yeah…”  She was still smiling and Shardul thought she was a very pleasant person to be around.

“But what is with Mr Flower?”

“Coz I don’t know your name.”

“Right. It’s Shardul. Shardul Barve.” He extended his hand to her.

“Bond. James Bond…”

He laughed. She laughed and grabbed his hand. “I am Sanvika.”

“Hi, Sanvika.”

Shardul eyed Sanvika’s meal of seafood and beer. She noticed that “You wanna join me?”

“Sure…” he sat down and ordered food for him. But no beer. “I don’t drink.” He told Sanvika.

“You are in Goa and you don’t drink?”

“Hm… Not everybody has to drink alcohol.”

“True… So what do you do? You were scribbling something in your notebook that day…”

“I am a Writer.”

“Really?” She asked excitedly. “What have you written? Anything I know?”

“I don’t think so. My books do not sell that well.” He looked embarrassed.

“Hey, it’s okay. Even if it does not sell well, what matters is that you are doing something you love. It is something you love, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Luckey… I just ran away from home to escape something I don’t like.” Her smile flattened. Shardul noticed that. He understood that there is some back story.

“What is your age?” He asked.

“Twenty-Four.” She said. “Why?”

“You are an Adult. So you actually can do whatever you want.”

She smiled. “The plan is to buy a place to start a café…restaurant…pub…sort of thing…” She said.

“Can you cook?”

“Not really.”

Shardul raised an eyebrow. “Eh… I can hire someone who can cook.” She said.

“What about money?”

“Do I look like I have no money?” She laughed.

“Eh… you said you ran away from home. So…”

“Right. But I have some money my grandma had left for me. When she passed away, you know… And told me to live the life I want.” She looked thoughtful. Then she smiled again. “I have to buy or rent a place to stay as well. I always wanted to live by the sea.”

Shardul nodded and sat back as his food arrived. Sanvika took a sip of her beer. But suddenly Shardul sat up. “How much do you have?”

“Hm?”

“Eh… I know a place.”

After lunch, Shardul took her to a beautiful small two-storied building. It was not a house. It was not a restaurant either. It was both. It was a restaurant attached to a house. It was tiny and beautiful.

“If you buy this, can you rent that side room for me?” He pointed at a room that is detached from the main house and has a separate door to enter. “It’ was used for homestay service.”

“You know the owners of this one too?”

“Yes. It belongs to my sister.”

“Huh?”

“She wants to sell it. She got a better place.” He pointed to a restaurant a few feet ahead. Just next door. It was bigger and better. “I don’t really want this place to be sold. I wrote my first book in that room. The room is a really nice ambience to write. I write better there. I wanted to write the third one also here.”

“You said it’s your sister’s house. Can’t you just live in it?”

Shardul gave a timid smile.

“What are you doing here?” They heard a quick and angry voice. And they turned around. A plump sun-tanned woman of mid-thirties stood looking at them. “I am asking you, Shardul.”

“Didi, I brought you a client. She wants to buy the place.”

Shardul’s sister carefully looked at Sanvika. “This kid?”

“I am not a kid.”

“Do you even have the money?”

“Yes.”

“How much?”

“How much do you need? I have like 75 lakhs.”

Now the sister’s attitude changed. “What was your name again?”

“Sanvika…”

“I am Suchil. We are all ‘S’.”

“Yeah. Yeah…”

Suchil turned to her brother. “Why are you so happy?”

“If she buys it, we agreed that I can live in the side room.” Shardul smiled.

“I did not agree yet.”

“See she is saying she did not agree yet. And how dare a young woman and man live in the same house?”  She knocked on the side of Shardul’s head. “And what did I tell you…. Not to obsess over a room. Your books don’t sell because nobody wants to read the crap you write. At least write fiction novels, you idiot.”

“Just leave me alone.” He pushed his sister’s hand away. “I will show Sanvika Ji the insides. Where is the key?”

As Shardul showed Sanvika the inside of the house, he was talking… “So, didi ran away from home to marry jeeju. He is Christian. And did not have much money. They met on didi’s trip to Goa. So, they fell in love and later got married. They used to live here in this house. And ran the restaurant downstairs.”

The ground floor was a restaurant with a bar counter. It had no tables and chairs. But the space was perfect. When wooden pillars and windows. There was a kitchen space bathroom and a bedroom upstairs. Which was perfect for Sanvika.

“I guess I will have to buy all the furniture.” She looked around.

“So, you are going to buy it?” Shardul asked.

“Yeah. Sure. It looks good.”

“Then me… side room?”

“It seems like your sister does not want that.”

“She does not want me to be a writer. Not my parents too. They want me to give up and do some ‘proper job’.”  He looked annoyed.

Sanvika understood how it feels to be not able to do something they love. She could see the strain in Shardul’s eyes. “Don’t worry, Mr Flower. You can stay in the side room.”

“Really? Thanks… I… I’ll help you buy the furniture. I will help you set everything up.”