“Hi. I don’t mind. Honestly, it’s rare to meet someone who actually reads more than a page before getting distracted.” “Guilty of staying up way too late reading. Once a book hooks me, I can’t put it down.” I smiled at the screen, my fingers moving before I thought too hard. “Same. I tell myself “just one more chapter,” and suddenly the sun’s coming up.”
“So, you have obviously mentioned you’re from India, tell me more about India.” “Yes, I’m from Mumbai, but I’ve been in the States for a little over four years, first to do my bachelors and then to finish my master’s degree. That’s why I was in Chicago.” He replied. “Ok I see, it seems you are familiarized with american culture… Maybe you can teach me some Hindi? I mean if that’s ok? Not sure if that’s offensive?” “Yes, even before moving to the states, I watched many American TV shows, films, and obviously books by American authors… Not offensive at all, I’m very proud of my culture” Soon, our chats became a part of my days. At first, it was just short, casual messages, but within weeks, we were writing paragraphs. About the music that shaped us. The books that stayed with us. Even little things, like how I preferred the quiet of late nights and he loved the way mornings felt before the world was fully awake. Our conversation had drifted easily, like an old jazz record playing softly in the background, smooth, unexpected, and impossible to stop. "I didn’t realize how late it was," I said. Glancing at the clock in the corner of my laptop screen. 12:03 a.m. It blinked at me like it knew something I didn’t. "Guess that’s a good sign. Either we talk too much or time’s just playing tricks on us." "Or both." "What were we even talking about just now?" "Books, You were ranting about how On the Road is overrated." "Because it is!" he continued with a second long text “Kerouac was romanticizing being broke and irresponsible like it was a lifestyle choice.” I raised an eyebrow reading his message. "So you’re telling me if someone handed you a map and a full tank of gas, you wouldn’t go?" It took him a while to reply. "Okay, maybe I'll go. But I’d bring snacks and a charger. You know, the modern version of being spontaneous." I laughed texting back. "Spontaneity with Wi-Fi. Revolutionary." His sarcasm kept our conversations. “I do want to see it, though. All of it. The desert, the redwoods, diners in the middle of nowhere… places where no one knows your name but they still pour your coffee like you’ve been coming there for years. There is this place though it's been on the top of my list since before moving to Colorado. Four corners. Have you heard of it?” "Oh interesting I haven’t, what's there? I questioned back. Although I had never heard his voice, I would imagine it through our texts, it felt as if he was there in the room with me. "It’s where the four corners of Arizona, Colorado, Utah, and New Mexico meet. I keep saying I will go once I have the time. Then, once I figured out who I was going with. I guess I just never went." "Maybe you don’t need a reason, maybe you just need to go." He was quiet for a beat. "You’d come with me?" I blinked, surprised. "What, to four corners?" "To anywhere," he said "Just… hypothetically. If I rented a beat-up car and played terrible playlists, would you sit in the passenger seat?" I bit my lip, smiling. "Only if I get to DJ at least half the time." "Deal" he texted back
immediately. "But only if you don’t skip bollywood songs" "That's a non-negotiable, You’re safe there." In my head I could imagine, like we were sitting next to each other on a porch swing somewhere, not separated by miles and glowing screens. "You think it’s weird," he asked after a moment, "how we never run out of things to say?" "No, I think it’s rare." And in that quiet night, just past midnight, I realized something else too: rare things aren’t meant to be ignored. They’re meant to be followed, even if it means going a little off map. “Nice talking to you pyaari, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” “Pyaari?” “It means “dear” in Hindi, it’s how we refer to our friends or close ones” “Oh okay, good night.” I felt butterflies as I texted back. “Good night.”
~~~~
“So, if you had to choose, books or music?” “That’s cruel. Books feed my mind. Music feeds my heart. I need both.” “Good answer. If you had chosen one, I would’ve known you were lying.” I laughed to myself, shaking my head at my phone.
I must admit that I chose this book because of the title and book cover. I'll never get to see this building, but it has always been on the top of my list of places I would like to have visited... It is indeed a fascinating structure that is well deserved as one of the 8 Wonders of the World!Meeting online can become a problem, of course. For Kyra she was delighted to have somebody asking her to connect that actually had substantive information on his profile--poetry, mentions of books/literature. She of course accepted! Everything was going fine, they became friends immediately because of these common interests and were soon talking almost daily. Until Kishan discovered that she was only 16 and immediately pulled back because of the age difference.
Still, they had developed such a close connection that later they reconnected and began a closer relationship. I must admit that I was hoping for this to continue, given my common interests in books and music myself, LOL... But, along comes a big problem. Kishan's mother saw the close connection and explained to Kishan that she would not accept his marrying outside of their culture. He had to choose...
There went my chance to see the Taj Mahal through their eyes... LOL Because, the author quickly moved on from First Love...to...another... which actually became the major portion of the book. Other than my thinking that the title could have been better chosen, I was surprised when she promised to find her First Love in the afterlife and continue on... Ah, first love, unfortunately, is replaced when you're still at an early life...
For the remainder of the book takes place, having nothing to do with India, disappointingly for me...
“Hi Kyra, would it be ok to call you? I would like to hear you translate this new Spanish song.” The Despacito trending song was the first he had asked me to translate. I agreed with hesitation. I saw my phone ring, I was nervous. “Hi Kyra.”
Not meant to be
but meant to meet
I was just a girl
with stars in my eyes,
You were the boy
from another life.
We ran hand in hand,
chasing the rainbow’s light,
Two worlds apart,
but together that night.
Up on Lookout Mountain,
snow in the trees,
Your jacket on my shoulders,
the cold on the breeze.
The sky turned saffron,
then crimson and gold,
Like Diwali flames
in the stories you told.
You were my Indian summer
In the heart of winter’s freeze,
Like silk sarees
in the moonlight
Dancing in the midnight breeze.
We weren’t meant
to be forever,
But we were meant to meet,
Now you’re just a memory
That still smiles inside of me.
You spoke of your home
half a world away,
Sacred temples
and kites in the warm Bombay bay.
I told you my dreams,
you told me your fate,
We knew from the start
we could never stay.
You were my Indian summer
In the heart of winter’s freeze,
Like silk sarees
in the moonlight
Dancing in the midnight breeze.
We weren’t meant to be forever,
But we were meant to meet,
Now you’re just a memory
That still smiles inside of me.
Not every love is meant to stay,
Some are lanterns that light the way.
And I’ll keep that light, quietly,
Like you still keep a piece of me.
~
On the other hand, Dirmilli takes Kira into another world where she is not only able to share much more with her new friend, but has a rich and full life, with a child... And begins an entirely different life...
As time passed, Kira decided to go back to university for her Masters...
I had nothing to look forward to but maybe going back to school would give me something. I walked into my first class, sat down where I usually sit towards the middle of the class. I was a nerd but I felt a little shy to be right in front. I opened my notebook and started taking notes, when all of the sudden a slim fit yet buff, tall handsome man, green eyes, olive complexion, lion strong facial structural, a beard and brown wavy hair well trimmed; his outfit was so clean, he wore a polo shirt ralph lauren shirt, nice straight jeans, moccasins, and a gold watch. Sat next to me and extended his hand out to me “Hi, I’m Khalifa.” He smiled at me. I shook his hand, smiling back. “Hi” I was flustered. I never had someone so handsome just come up to me and introduce themselves for no reason. The professor started talking, “In this exercise, you will be divided into small groups of two with the person to your right to explore real-life ethical dilemmas in business, introduce yourself as a business advisor.” Each student was encouraged to actively engage in fostering direct collaboration and dialogue. The activity emphasized listening, respectful disagreement, and shared decision-making. Discussions focused on ethical principles such as honesty, fairness, responsibility, and integrity. By working together, students practiced recognizing different perspectives, evaluating consequences, and proposing ethically sound solutions in a team setting. The exercise reinforced the value of collaboration and ethical reasoning in professional environments.
Khalifa smiled at me “You’ve been unethical” “Excuse me?” I was confused “Earlier, You didn’t introduce yourself, let’s try this again. Hi, I’m Khalifa.” I looked at him with a smirk, “Hi, I’m Kyra and I work as a business advisor specializing in ethical leadership, strategic planning, and organizational integrity. I’m looking forward to hearing your perspectives and seeing how you approach ethical challenges as a team. Let’s work together to think critically, respectfully, and creatively.” “Hey, I’m not an official business advisor, but I do give pretty good advice… especially over coffee. I’m here to figure out some ethical dilemmas, but honestly, the real dilemma might be trying to focus with you sitting in front of me. I’ll try to keep my answers sharp and my compliments subtle but no promises. Let’s see if we can make good decisions together… or at least get into some interesting conversations.”
“Mmm, coffee and ethical debates? Sounds dangerously tempting. But only if you promise your advice comes with a side of charm; though I think you’ve already got that part covered. Careful though… invite me for coffee, and I might just say yes.” He took out this flirtatious flame I had inside, I’ve never known I had. We continued on track as we both wrote in our notebooks.
Class had ended, he ripped out the page he wrote on, handed me the paper folded, extended his hand, I extended my hand back for a friendly hand shake, as he shook my hand he leaned forward and whispered “Kyra, thank you for helping me out with my ethical dilemma.” He turned around and walked away. I went to work after that class, as I was on my lunch break, I reached into my business ethics journal and checked the folded paper he had given me. It read LETS CONTINUE THIS DILEMA OVER COFFEE. and underneath he wrote his phone number. It took me a couple of days to think about it, I texted him a day before class.
“Hi, it’s Kyra.” he replied right away “Our meeting has been long overdue. I’ll be waiting for you to further discuss at 2pm at this address.” He sent me the address of a really fancy cafe. I had to dress up for this coffee shop, as I searched the place it looked more of a VIP type of setting velvet couches, dimmed lights, gold accents, and coffee with gold flakes! I quickly went home to change. I’m a thick girl, with a small chest, long black hair, fair skin, brown eyes, I’m pretty average, I really never thought of myself as an attractive girl, with a 5 foot 2 inches height I was no model! As I was going through my closet, I found the black dress I wore when I first met Kishan. I decided to take it off my hanging rack and placed it in a plastic bag to donate. I wore black dressy pants, a beige shirt with gold buttons, some black heels, gold color watch, a black clutch, curled my hair; I did my natural make up look but a bold red lipstick. I drove to the cafe, it was an Arabic hookah lounge, I arrived, and as I walked into the cafe, I stood behind the wait to be seated sign. The waitress approached me. Khalifa and I saw each other from afar. He shouted to the waitress “She’s with me” . I felt a little embarrassed, shy. Although I was now a business woman who held many meetings, I still had moments I lacked confidence.
“Hi, dear so nice to see you, these are for you.” He handed me a bouquet of about 100 red roses. “Oh wow. Thank you.”
“Not 100 hundred roses, are as beautiful as you are.” I felt so awkward I’ve never had so much attention like this before. I felt my cheeks hot, I didn’t know what to say or do. The waitress came in with our drinks. “I don’t know what you like so I had them bring you different types of coffee to try.” On a gold tray we were served small cups of Turkish and Arabic coffee with gold nuggets filled with coffee and chocolate. “Thank you Khalifa, you didn’t have to do all of this, it’s very charming of you.” “Kyra, I’m going to be straightforward, I am not a man that likes to waste time, since the day I saw you in class, I’ve been trying to say you’re such a beautiful woman. I couldn’t resist but to try to get to know you!” The man was very determined and lively. “Khalifa, I appreciate the gesture, you seem like a very charming man, but I’m not used to all of this attention, if I can also be honest with you I feel overwhelmed with all of this treatment.”
“Dear, I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable, but when I like someone I go all out and big.” “I see that. I do like it, don’t take it the wrong way, I’ve just never been treated like this before.” “Then you haven’t met a real man dear.” He was definitely straightforward and loud. Very jumpy. The waitress came in and asked, “Mr. Ansari, would you like me to bring out the treats now?” “Yes, bring them out.” I felt I was sitting next to a sultan. They brought out golden trays with all kinds of middle eastern desserts, topped with real gold shavings. “Kyra, that’s why I like you, you’re not the type of girl that needs all of this but you deserve this, let me spoil you. This is just who I am, I go out for anyone I care for. I just want to get to know you, the real you.” He was so handsome I got even more intimidated by all of his gifts and charm. I stayed quiet, trying to process all of this “Look I’m from Dubai, we like everything big or go home! It’s you. I already put that in my mind.” “I appreciate your honesty. I’m not sure I’m looking to be in a relationship right now. If I’m being frank with you, a couple months ago I was in a serious relationship and it’s been taking me a while to get myself together.” “How long ago did you break up with him?” “Umm, it’s been almost a year.” “Kyra, listen I want to know you; if you could give me the chance, I promise you’ll see a whole new world. I have respect for your feelings and your decision.” I agreed to give myself a chance to forget Kishan and move forward. I just wasn’t sure if I was ready. We spent the rest of the time talking about ourselves. I told him a bit about myself, my reasons I went into business school. “At first I wanted to be some type of surgeon, but after working in a hospital I felt it wasn’t for me. I want to travel and do more with my life than to be stuck working long hours. I think work shouldn’t only be about making money and success. It is more of the freedom you have as a human. I believe business is the only way to get that freedom and try to be happier.” “I agree a hundred percent. Are you always this deep?” “I guess I haven’t had an easy upbringing so now as an adult I am careful with my decisions.” “I see, well I was born into a world of business, so I didn’t really have an excuse to do something else. I, from a young age, worked aside my father since my mother passed away when I was just a boy. My father didn’t know what to do with me, I just followed him everywhere and when he got older, he gave me all the shares in his most important businesses, and I have many other types of what I call passive income such as this cafe, commercial shops, investments in technology and real estate.” “I am very sorry about your mother, so why do you need to have a degree if you're already out there doing all of it?” “Well, I believe we always have something to learn. I come from old money. I may know how to run a business, but I may not know many things within the different levels of business. I need to keep up with this new era of business and trends. Also, it just sounds better saying I also worked hard to get an education and didn’t just get my fathers fortune as a spoiled brat.” “I understand, makes sense, what do you like to do when you're not a business man?” “Sports, um lets see, wrestling is something big for me. I have been doing it for a really long time, since I was ten, there's also snow boarding. That's the reason I also settled here. I appreciate winter. Back home in Dubai, it's too hot, we only have indoor snowboarding but it's not the same.” “I have never been snowboarding. So, you come here often?” “Yes , I decided to make a couple of investments out here and bought an apartment not too far from here. I also own a mountain home for the winter season. You must go snowboarding, I am taking you!” His English had a heavy Arabic accent but I loved how expressive he was, his body posture leaning close to me as he spoke, facing me and staring straight into my eyes. He had all the confidence in the world. “Habibti, let’s go for a walk.” We were very close to downtown's city park. He grabbed my hand, and we strolled through the city's park as the sun started setting. “You know, although my life is comfortable back home financially, I always felt lonely. My dad had four wives and that meant many children. I am the eighth of eleven siblings. The only from my mothers marriage with my dad. My mother had depression throughout my childhood. I would only see her sit in solitude, until one day not only did her depression get worse but she got sick and passed away. My dad took me to his house when she passed away when I was 8 but I was older at least in his thoughts I was independent and didn’t really need him. He spoke to me as an older child. I never felt real child love from them, I felt more of a burden at the end of the day.” “I’m very sorry to hear that this was your life growing up and about your mother.” “Don’t be sorry it happens, it is my fate, but now I just want to love someone and be loved. I want to be with someone who I can share all my thoughts, feelings, and emotions with.” He stopped, starred into my eyes “Kyra” I looked back at him, he leaned in and kissed me. His kiss was so passionate, I felt all types of sparks. It made me feel butterflies. I allowed it. “You’re sweeter than honey melting on my tongue, purer than the water I crave after you, and as achingly beautiful as a flower I can’t help but worship with my hands.” I giggled and gently placed my hand over his chest and pushed him away in a playful gentle way. “You’re too much!” “I’m good with words, yes? But believe me, I am being truthful.” I hadn’t smiled like this for a really long time. It felt good to be noticed and cherished by someone. Someone who looked up to me and treated me like a true princess, knowing me by name only. “He looked straight into my eyes, let me get to know you, I must. I won’t take no for an answer.” “Well what else can I do, if I can’t say no?” He did a funny dance clapping in the air and snapping his fingers. I laughed. “I have to go home; it's getting late.” “Sure habibti, let me drive you home. I’ll have someone take your car to you.” He held my hand the entire time walking back to his sporty BMW vehicle. He opened the door for me and waited for me to get in before closing it. He got in and started driving. “Ready?” “Ready?” I questioned back confused. He pressed hard on the gas, the BMW’s turbocharged engine roaring as the car launched ahead with razor-sharp precision. He opened the sunroof and I felt the wind in my hair. He had loud Arabic dance music playing in the background. It felt so liberating. As we arrived at the front of my apartment complex. He parked, and turned off his car. He turned towards me, held my hand close to his chest, and kissed my hand. “Kyra, thank you for giving me a chance. You won’t regret it, I promise. ” He was humorous. I smiled back at him, “Thank you for tonight Khalifa, I really enjoyed our evening.” I got out of the car. He waited for me to get inside. Coming to an empty home made me feel a bit depressed. I remembered Khalifa's upbringing. I related to him in the sense of not being loved, or even noticed by our parents. Wishing to have a normal upbringing with much more involved parents. Instead, I was the one trying to stay significant. I know my dad tried but my mother would be less involved as she had other priorities of bills and working. “Just making sure you didn’t block my number…Your car was dropped off, your keys were left with your security up front." “Hahaha, Thank you, what are you doing?” “I just got home, I'm going to take a bath and settle into bed.” “A bath? You’re spoiled.” “I’m not spoiled, it’s just a bath.” “I’m sure it’s fancy like your golden coffee.” I replied. “Ha ha ha” I wanted to express that I understood his solitude and appreciated him sharing such a deep and difficult piece of himself. “Hey, I just wanted to let you know, I understand how you feel, about your upbringing. I don’t like to talk about it as much but my parents were never around due to work. I can’t recall any happy moments when we were all together at the same time. So it’s been pretty lonely having to grow up fast and when all I have is myself to lean on.” “I appreciate you sharing that with me, I can see sadness in your eyes, as I would see in my mothers, don’t take it the wrong way. But don’t worry I’ll change that. You have too much of a beautiful smile to hide it.” His caring words made me blush, even as a foolish haze lingered over my heart.
Ok, I admit that I was, at first, concerned that Kira was being set up for another heartbreak! This guy seem "too rich to be true..." if you know what I mean and forgive me for comparing cultures with what we now have in Washington. But, Kira had changed; she had developed her personality to be the woman she wanted to be, and that was particularly for her professional career. It was interesting to see how she approached this new, possible relationship. And it soon became clear that she was not going to be caught again in a relationship that was controlled by anybody but herself. My kind of woman, LOL
I think you will enjoy reading of this second love of Kira's life. At first she was caught and, perhaps, put off by how many gifts were being sent routinely. Was he trying to buy her? But, this man, appeared to be the type of man who did not take being rich as something that was important to a relationship. Kira had matured into a woman who knew her worth as a mate to such a man. Soon they were exploring her personal career goals, which included working for herself rather than another individual...
Sadly, Dirmilli chose not to have an ending of Happily Ever After. I found this decision refreshing... Almost to the point of wondering just how Kira would handle her next step in life... Wonderfully heartbreaking!
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