PART 1: FEBRUARY 29TH, 2008 Ichi-go Ichi-e: A Japanese idiom which refers to a meeting, an event that happens only once in a lifetime and is a stark reminder to treasure every passing moment of life. Anshi I would have completely bypassed the café if I hadn’t been paying attention. Two things make me notice it – the name, to begin with. 29 is indeed a quirky name for a café. It is a good marketing ploy to get noticed, I will give them this. And the second thing is the huge board displayed outside – ‘Today’s special – Our regular (as in once in four years) platter no 29 is available, in dedication to those who have their birthdays today!’ Beneath this is written – ‘Celebrate your Leap Year birthday in Café 29!’.  Well, I am hungry. I have been on the road non-stop since 8 hours. The GPS shows another two hours to reach the resort. On a whim I decide to check the café. It is, after all, my birthday today.  27 years old. When did the years pass by! It seems like just yesterday when Naani…Do not go there, Anshi. My mind brings me back to the present with this dire reminder. No point in traveling to the past which has many dark corners.  The present is good. Present is – safe. I park my campervan in a corner of the compound where the café is located. As I get down from the van, my legs sigh in relief. Sitting for 8 hours consecutively was a bad idea. The delicious aroma of baked delicacies wafting through the café makes me hurry up.  It is full but not crowded. I find one empty seat around a table and grab it. The table contains a small board displaying the contents of platter no 29. My eyes widen as I take in the items in the menu – Brie cheese, goat cheese, olives (tangerine and chili), chili fig spread and one loaf of French baguette. Cheese is my poison.  Thankfully, a server appears and I order the platter.  As I look around, I realize that in a short span of few minutes, every seat around every table has been taken. There is only one empty seat near my table.  “Is this seat taken, Miss?” A gravelly voice asks me and I stare up at the most arresting face I have ever seen. Blue eyes, a beard that is neatly trimmed, pronounced cheek bones and a crew-cut hairstyle. The guy looks about my age but his face shows timelessness.  “No. Please feel free to sit.” I gesture towards the seat. He smiles at me and takes up the seat. Within minutes, his order has been placed, the same as mine. “So I am guessing it is your birthday too?” I ask him, surprising myself. Since when do I take the initiative to start a conversation?! Something about this guy… “Yep. Happy birthday! I assume you asked because it is your birthday too.” He says in amusement.  ‘Yeah. Thank you and wish you the same.” I say and look around, suddenly feeling conscious.  “Come here often?” He asks me and cringes. “That sounded like a bad pick-up line. I am sorry. You don’t have to answer. It’s okay.” His nervousness makes me smile. “I was just passing through and happened to see this café. How about you?” “I come here regularly. You must have noticed a book-store on the opposite side of the café. I own it. Steven…” He says and extends his hand for a shake.  Steven “Anshi.” She says as we shake hands.  Well, this is not a bad way to celebrate my birthday, I guess.  Anshi looks Asian. Probably from India? She also has the look of someone who has been there, done that and lived through it to tell it. Something about her makes me sit straighter. There is the feeling that I am sitting in front of a strong warrior.  “So, out on a tour?” I ask her. I usually do not make small talk with strangers. But something about Anshi invites me to open up.  She smiles as if she has been through this question many times. “I am a wanderer actually. I do have a house in India but I stay there very rarely. I am a software developer and work remotely. I keep visiting places but never stay for long.” I nod at her. “That’s your campervan parked outside? It sort of gives you away, Anshi The Wanderer.” She laughs. For a second, the resilient look on her face is replaced by young and carefree laughter. When she catches me looking at her, she becomes conscious and the laughter fades away. I regret it. “I am a native here. Have lived here all my life. Have a home just above the book-store. Solitary and peaceful existence…” I shrug casually, wanting to relax her. “Do you travel?” She asks me. I get a feeling that the ability to move and to travel is something very important to her.  “Not much.” I look at her and decide whether to share. What the heck, it is not as if I will be meeting her again. “I do not do well with outdoors or with crowds.” She looks around questioningly as if saying that we were sitting amidst a crowd right now.  “This is okay.” I tell her. “It is not a problem always. But surrounded by many people or going too far from my home sometimes makes me panicky and I start to hyperventilate.” I look at her, hoping against hope that I would not see judgement on her face. She nods sagely. “Believe me, I get you. I too get panicky and start hyperventilating, but it happens when I realize that I have spent too much time at one place or when I am getting emotionally attached.” She suddenly grins, taking me by surprise. “I guess it is safe to say that we are polar opposites.” “Polar opposites with different phobias but same reactions… and different ways of dealing with them.” I say. “Couldn’t have put it better!” She says with a smile. Our platters arrive. I feel sad all of a sudden, realizing that once she finishes her meal, Anshi would leave and there would be very less probability of us meeting again. But then she lets out a delightful exclamation on seeing the platter and I smile.  Perhaps this will be a once-in-a-lifetime meeting, but I am glad it happened.  PART 2: FEBRUARY 29TH, 2012 Steven “No, I really don’t think it is a good idea.” I manage to say as politely as I can.  When I entered the café, it wasn’t that full. But then a tour bus containing several people decided to halt over for refreshments. I am now being pursued by a very persistent lady who wants me to join her group at the table.  How do I tell her that I don’t do well with groups or crowds?? “Oh come on, it will be fun! We…” “Steven, there you are! Sorry I am late.” I turn back in disbelief, hearing a voice that I have been unable to forget. There she stands smiling, Anshi.  So I didn’t dream about the meeting. I really met her. I have been thinking about her every now and then, wondering where she must be roaming. “Come, there’s a table around the corner.” She says and lightly touches my arm for emphasis. I shrug apologetically at the tourist lady who is glaring at Anshi now and move in the direction of the table. “You looked like you were seconds away from hyperventilating.” Anshi says as a greeting. I look at her, still in shock, awe and disbelief. “You came back!” I blurt out. She frowns in confusion, then looks around and smiles in understanding. “Yes, I ended up here again! It wasn’t planned, trust me. I was passing through to another town when I remembered this café and decided to drop by. It is so awesome to meet you again! Happy birthday, by the way!” “To you as well.” I compose myself finally. “So where to, from here?” “Next stop at Rio.” She says. I nod. “Thank you for saving me from that crowd. I didn’t expect the café to be so full of people. Now I am even gladder that I met you.” She laughs. “What’s your deal with crowds, if I am not being too personal?” I look around and sigh. “I am mildly autistic.” She tilts her head. “What does that entail?” “I lead quite a normal life but I am not equipped for social activities, neither do I possess the required communication skills to function in a society. At least, this is what the doc and my diagnosis say.” I shrug casually, trying to hide my embarrassment.  She waves her hand smoothly. “You look fine to me. You will live.” And just like that, she moves one more inch closer to my heart. Anshi I knew there was something about this guy. But his admission only endears him to me more. “How come you do not stay at one place for long? What’s your deal with that?” He asks in genuine curiosity, supremely oblivious to the turmoil his question has produced in my mind.  Dad committing one of the largest frauds known in the financial market… Getting a sentence of two decades’ imprisonment… Mom unable to deal with the pain and the censor of the public… handing me over to my Naani and leaving home never to return… Leaving me to deal with the loss of what I believed was a happy family…  I look at him. No, I cannot disrupt his world by sharing my horrible childhood.  I sigh. “Will you accept it if I say that I had a traumatic childhood? I am not ready to share it with anyone.”  His eyes widen briefly but then he composes himself and nods. “I understand. But, whatever might have happened with you, I am sorry it happened. I think you are awesome, even if I don’t know you that well.” His simple statement makes me want to cry. I manage to smile at him. “My maternal grandma pretty much raised me all by herself. While I don’t know why I keep moving, I just know that staying at one place makes me relive the trauma and getting attached to people makes me feel vulnerable and weak.” “I get that.” Then he suddenly grins. “But you look fine to me and I think you will live.”  “Throwing my dialogue to my own face? Smart move.” I wag a finger at him. “I think a second date involves some more information about each other.” “Fair enough. I turned 27 today. I am single, owner of a bookstore named Books, Readers And Everything, I live alone in a flat above the bookstore. Parents stay in this same town and we meet every weekend. I like a solitary existence. And I consider myself an introvert.” He pauses. “Except… you make me come out of my shell.” He looks at me with blatant curiosity as if trying to solve a puzzle.  I laugh self-consciously. “Well, it is my 31st birthday today. I am single, working as a software developer. I live most of the times in my campervan.” I pause feeling slightly embarrassed. “No idea about where my parents are, as they separated and eventually got divorced when I was 15. Once they went their separate ways, it was as if I no longer existed for them.”  No, that’s not true. They were very much aware about me, in fact, too aware, I think. Dad never wanted me to come to meet him in prison. Mom could no longer handle herself as well as the teenaged me. I did not realize it then. For a long time, I hated my parents. But now I know that they must have loved me in their own way and reacted to life’s circumstances in the way they knew. I do not know whether my dad has been released. When Naani passed away five years ago, I started wandering, having no anchor to keep me in one place. “Hey, do not go to the dark places of your past, Anshi. Right now you are here. I for one am glad that you are.” Steven softly brings me out of my reverie.  The realization startles me that I am glad too that he is here. PART 3: FEBRUARY 29TH, 2016 Steven I do not even have to look at the door to know that she is here. It shocks me that I already know the way she opens the glass door of the café – gently, as if afraid of breaking the glass. In some ways, the glass is a reflection of her – shining, translucent yet extremely breakable.  She looks at me and shakes her head, smiling.  “Fancy meeting you here!” She says, her eyes twinkling in mischief as she sits on the chair opposite to me. “Come here often?” She laughs as she repeats the very same words that I had asked her when we met for the first time.  Eight years ago. Eight years, and she is still as riveting and mysterious like she always has been for me. I think about her every day. I miss her. I long for her presence.  I shrug. “Every now and then, you might say. Thanks for turning up this year too. Happy birthday!” I extend the package towards her. She looks startled but then she smiles and takes out a package from her bag. “I too got you something with the hope that I would meet you here. Happy birthday!” She says. As if I could afford to not to come… she doesn’t need to know that I have been sitting in the café since it opened and have not left my seat since four hours.  We both open our packages in silence. I smile when I see that she has chosen a book for me. I look at her and see her grinning as she holds her present, a book again, in her hand.  “Great minds syncing and all…” I say casually, trying to hide my trepidation. Would she like the book? “Welcome Home…” She reads out the title of the book I have gifted to her, looking at the book wistfully. Her vulnerable expression breaks my heart. I know she would not linger for long. Usually she leaves once she finishes her meal and doesn’t prolong goodbyes. Something which I am grateful for, for every time she says goodbye, a piece of my heart goes with her. “I just want you to know that if you ever feel like coming home, you can come here.” I say and point towards myself. My hand trembles with fear and anxiety and I hope she doesn’t notice it.  She nods and lowers her head as she tucks the book inside her bag. Her lips quiver slightly and I feel an insane urge to hug and comfort her. I do neither and sit back in silent despair.  “Did you like yours?” She asks, looking composed now. “Walden by Henry Thoreau… well, who doesn’t like Thoreau?! Thank you for this wonderful gift.” I say. “And thank you, for yours.” She looks at me hesitatingly and gently says. “If you ever wish to find your safe outdoorsy world, you can always come with me.” She says. I look at her, long and intensely. “You know what, I might just take up on your offer someday.”  Anshi There are very few moments that leave me speechless. This is exactly one of those.  He keeps looking at me, waiting for a reaction or reply. Frankly, I do not know what to say or do. “I am flattered and honored that you would consider coming with me.” I manage to say at last. “It is a beautiful world out there, Amigo. Is there any particular place you always wanted to visit?” He runs his fingers through the back of his hair. “Not exactly. As long as it is with you, I am willing to travel anywhere. “ There it is, his blatant honesty and innocent admission. I am not used to people being this frank with me, or looking at me with such adoration and admiration, like Steven is doing now.  I squirm uncomfortably in my seat. “In a perfect world, I would not have corrected you. But we live in an imperfect world, friend, and I am afraid that you have placed me on a pedestal where I do not belong. You don’t know anything about me.” “Neither do you. But I am sure that you feel connected to me, the same way I feel connected to you. Sometimes, it doesn’t require familiarity or intimacy to bond. Some souls bond because they are meant to. I just know that in all these years of solitude, you are the only person with whom I feel like I can be myself and not be judged.” He gulps uncertainly. “You are also the only one who can make me come out of my self-imposed mental and emotional imprisonment.” I smile although I feel like weeping. “And if anyone has managed to lower my barriers, it is you.” I look at him not wanting to say but still blurting it out. “You will come to my mind whenever I think about a home.”  He smiles. “I can live with this.” He looks around. “You know, we are leap-year born, but we still have birthdays on February 28th. You need not come here only on leap years.”  The server arrives with the special platters – this time, a basket of different types of bread with varieties of mayonnaise and sauce. I am saved from responding to his comment.  He silently observes me acting engrossed in eating. “I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable. But I know that you won’t give me enough time to say all these things once you finish your meal. I do not know whether you would come again. I just wanted to confess my feelings to you.” “How did it come to this? We barely know each other!” I say lamely. I wish he hadn’t said all these things to me. His confession is making me realize some uncomfortable truths about myself.  That somehow in just two meetings, he has come to mean a lot to me. The first person to whom I feel connected. “It is just what I feel, Anshi. It doesn’t matter if you don’t feel likewise. I am grateful and glad to have just met you. It could have been worse. I could have gone through this lifetime without knowing that someone like you existed.” He pauses to drink some water. Neither of us speaks. He eats in silence like me. Inside me, a storm of emotions is brewing.  PART 4: FEBRUARY 29TH, 2020 Anshi I silently curse myself as I prepare to step out of the van. I had promised myself that I would not return here but it was as if my mind was programmed for this day, planning well in advance about where I should be, to be able to reach the café on this particular day. Something about this guy… I have not been able to forget him. He perpetually lingers in my mind, a reminder of what a home would feel like.  I step out of the van, eager to step in and catch him by surprise. Since the past two times, he has been the first to come. This time, I have come prepared. I look at my watch and grin. Just half an hour since the café opened. I guess I will be the first to come. That is, if he decides to come… I halt mid-way. Would he be there in the café? Did I drive him off last time with my panicky response to his confession? For few seconds I feel alarmed at the prospect of not seeing him. But then I remind myself that I know where his bookstore is and I can catch up with him. I step inside the café. There he is, grinning at me. I stay rooted at my place as I realize something.  This guy has probably waited for me for a long time, hoping that I would come.  A feeling washes over me, a feeling that I identify as love.  Steven I wave to her, trying to hide my relief. After the last time, when I foolishly confessed, I thought I had driven her off for good. I was dreading that she would not come this time. But here she is, staring at me like she is seeing me for the first time. What do you see when you look at me, Anshi? A guy with issues? Someone who will make you feel safe? Someone whom you could love? I hope you see that here is someone who loves you. “Hi. Happy Birthday!” She says as she sits opposite to me.  “Happy Birthday! I am glad you came.” I blurt it out. Then I hit my forehead with my palm. “No, this time I will not scare you off with confessions or declarations.” I fumble in my pocket and take out her gift. “Here, this is for you.” She smiles and accepts it. “I am curious to know.” She opens the package tenderly and gasps. It is a keychain that I made out of wood which shows a miniature campervan, same as hers. Only special thing is, I have made it in such a way that it looks like the van is made out of books.  “I… I made it myself.” I say somewhat embarrassed.  “You made it!” She looks at me in awe and wonder. Before I can process it, she gets up from her seat, rushes to me and hugs me.  I return her hug, wishing desperately that time would freeze here. I do not want anything more. This feels like the culmination of a lifetime. We stay like that for a while. Far too soon for my liking, she pulls away first and returns to her seat, subtly wiping her eyes.  She takes out a big box from her bag and hands it to me. “It is not much, compared to what you gave me. But this is what I got for you.” She says in a shaky voice. I want to say that she has already given the greatest gift of my life to me but I accept the box silently. A delicious aroma wafts from it. It is sealed. “What is it? Smells delicious.”  “I had been to India last month. I brought a collection of Indian spices for you to try out.” I smile at her. “Thank you! Now I will think about you whenever I cook.” I sigh. “One more activity that will remind me of you!” I look at her, intending to see her smile but she looks wistful. “Doesn’t it get tough, waiting for so long?” She asks softly. “Does it get tough for you?” I ask her.  To my surprise and amazement, she nods. “It is difficult. But I…” she looks around helplessly, trying to find words for the reasons why she feels she cannot be with me. I lean forward and gently place my hand on hers, trying to soothe her. “Hey… it is okay. I will be here whenever you wish to come.” “But it is not enough, right?” She takes a deep breath. “It does not feel fair. I cannot stay, I cannot afford to not to come and meet you. We meet once in four years, for an hour or two at the most.” She looks at me uncertainly. “If you wish, I can come with you right now.” I tell her. Yes, it is true. I can leave everything for her.  “I know.” She whispers. “But I do not want to take you away from the life you have built here.”  I lean back on my chair, feeling lost. I cannot force her to let me in, nor can I force her to stay with me. She will have to do it at her own time. In the meanwhile, all I can do is make sure that she knows what she means to me.  “You do know by now that I love you, right?” I say. I want to smile. This is the first time I have said these words to anyone. I am glad it is Anshi. She nods tightly, holding her emotions in check. “If there is anyone I could love, it would only be you.” I manage to say. He smiles wistfully. “I can live with this.” Our platter comes – this time an assortment of muffins and various types of syrups to go with them. We tuck into our respective platters, every now and then exchanging glances that seem to ask – Will we meet again? PART 5: FEBRUARY 29TH, 2024 He was her North Star. Following him would always lead her to home. – Tiffany Breann Steven I smile in relief as the glass door of the café opens. She has come around this year too. Perhaps she won’t, for her next birthday. But today, she is here and that is all I am going to focus on. An hour or two with her. While they will haunt and torture me for another four years (or forever, if she decides to not to come next time), they will also help me to get through my life. The thought of a world where Anshi exists is enough for me to live. Anshi I take a deep breath and step inside the café. I already saw him through the glass door. I look at my campervan.  It is always there, should I feel the need to move.  It is always there, to give me my freedom and space. Most of all, it is large enough to accommodate the people I love and need in my life. Especially when it is only one person – the one sitting inside the café waiting eagerly for me.  As I step inside the café, he stands up and comes towards me. He surprises me with a hug. I bask in his embrace and before he can say anything, I say. “I want to give us a chance.” He pulls back and looks at me in silent anticipation. “I am not leaving anywhere immediately. I would like to wait and see whether I am able to find my roots here. Are you in?” I ask nervously. “You will have a 43-year old girlfriend, if you agree.” I laugh shakily.  He gently tightens his hold on me and hugs me again, repeating those words which probably had become his mantra to cope with my indecisive nature. “I can live with this.” As I sink in his embrace, I smile as I realize something. I am finally where I belong. My safe place. My home. My Steven.