#CosmoShortStories Act of Faith: a Story About Blossoming Love By Srishti Chaudhary

Ila rested her arms against the balcony railings and stared dreamily towards the apartment across the street; tall windows in their apartment provided for the perfect view. Inside, a man sat on the couch, clutching his sides because he was laughing so hard, while the woman stood in front of him, giving a performance. She seemed to be doing imitations of someone they knew, and her actions were exaggerated, poking fun. The man got up and kissed her on the lips, and Ila watched with trepidation as she kissed him back.

 

The man suddenly seemed to remember something. He ran out of Ila’s view, as the woman waited, a smile lingering on her face; he came back, almost skipping, holding what appeared to be a necklace in his hands. He put it lovingly around her neck, and Ila could see the woman loved it. She jumped up and down, squealing over it, and flung her arms around him. Ila could not look away, even as they once again began to kiss. She knew she should not have been spying, but she wanted so badly to see what love looked like. Her parents certainly never seemed romantic: all they ever did was yell at each other and tell Ila to go do her homework.

 

Ever since the quarantine began, Ila spent most of her time in the balcony, partly because that was the only way she could still talk to her friend Aman, who lived in the house diagonally a floor above her, and partly so she could watch the couple in the apartment across the street. Every afternoon, she threw an eraser up in Aman’s balcony, where it bounced against the board he had set up, making a noise which alerted him to come outside; she was a great shot, after all. Then they whiled away the hours playing games, quibbling over little things, and watching the deserted street below. Sometimes they even managed to play cards, as Aman lowered a basket with a rope.

Aman didn’t care about the couple across the street though, and Ila told him it was because he just didn’t care about true love. He just didn’t know, couldn’t understand, because he had a boy brain. “When you are a man, you will know,” she told him cattily, “Hopefully.”

Another evening in quarantine, and Ila sat leaning against the grills, staring at the apartment across the street. They were having an intense discussion, and Ila tried to focus, when Aman whistled. “What?” she asked, without looking at him. He lowered the basket, and Ila picked up what was inside: a necklace made out of all the erasers she had thrown up at him.

 

She looked at him, amazed: “How did you make this?”

“There are some things a boy should just know,” he said.

A loud clatter interrupted them; the man in the apartment across the street had thrown the glasses and plates in his hands and stormed off, leaving the woman to pick up the pieces. Ila froze; she had been so convinced true love did not behave this way. She wanted to call out to the woman, and felt her own eraser necklace in her hands, wondering if that’s what love led to. She looked up at Aman, who continued to smile, pretending to put the necklace on her.

 

Ila grinned; despite the fact that she didn’t see love between her parents, she had chosen to believe in the true love of the couple in the apartment across the street. Believing in love was a profound act of faith. She wore the necklace. Aman extended his hand, acting as if he would take the top of her hand and spin…Ila spun…in quarantine, what else was there to do, except have faith?

 

Author Srishti Chaudhary