“Minimise entropy, …minim…”

Suyash was sleep-talking beside Aditi.

It was the usual logjam at Lokanthali-Jadibuti section. The bus, crammed with lethargic passengers, was making intermittent sluggish movements. Aditi and Suyash were seated on the cabin seat and directly faced the driver. Suyash sat on the seat next to the windshield and rested his head on the window behind.

“Excuse me,” said Aditi and gently patted his right arm. Alarmed, Suyash woke up from his nap and looked at her with somnolent eyes. “Are you alright?” she asked.

“Yeah, I am all good. I’m sorry,” Suyash said after a huge yawn. He closed his eyes tightly and stretched his arms to combat drowsiness.

After a few seconds of awkward silence, Aditi said, “Who on earth talks about thermodynamics in sleep?”

“Thermodynamics?” he asked.

“Yes, you were saying something about minimising entropy.”

“Oh, heck”, he blushed and shyly said, “I was just, you know, referring to minimising disorders in life. Going through turbulent periods, so.”

“That means you are not alright?” Aditi raised her eyebrows.

He simply smiled and said, “I am not, but that’s not a big deal. I just have some adulting things that need to fall in place. By the way, I am Suyash,” he put forward his right palm.

“Aditi,” she said, reciprocating with a warm handshake.

“Adulting is indeed very hard,” Aditi spoke softly with a thoughtful tone. “All your childhood comforts and supports will be gone, and you find yourself wrestling every day in pursuit of that ‘revered’ independence, only to find yourself lonely in this enormously unknown outside world.”

Suyash earnestly nodded.

The driver gave them a quick, sincere look as he steered the vehicle right and made a slight turn to head towards Koteshwor.

“By the way, are you a student, or do you work somewhere?” asked Aditi.

“Currently, none,” replied Suyash, “I recently graduated from university, but I don’t feel I am cut out for the job industry. I have become so used to the luxury of reading without worrying about feeding anyone, including myself, that all I want to is read forever. I want to know everything that is there to be known. But then, when I think of the financial responsibilities that come with finishing college, I just crumble. I feel powerless.”

Suyash hung his head and stared at the floor. Maybe, he was ashamed.

Aditi gave him a long, sustained look. She saw the face of a sincere young man grappling with his consciousness, constantly confronting and making a choice between chaos and order.

“People are worried because they can’t focus on reading, and you are worried because you only want to read? Amazing! Do you even realise the power you hold? I think you should pursue further education and get into research and academia. You would make a great scientist,” said Aditi.

Suyash looked at Aditi and gave her a gentle affiliative smile. She kindly approved the gratitude visible in his eyes.

This was followed by a prolonged silence between the two with some sporadic eye contact, often as it happens after a profound and meaningful conversation. We fear that anything we talk about after that could destroy the intensity of the set mood. But our eyes, they don’t hide anything. They are always pointing or trying to point towards someone or something we are interested in approaching or having.

The bus immediately braked, and the entire force from Aditi’s inertia rested on Suyash’s body. “I am so sorry,” she said and looked at the driver with slight disdain. “It’s okay,” said Suyash.

“By the way, where are you heading to?” asked Aditi.

“Nowhere,” replied Suyash with a little laughter, “I don’t even know why and how I am here, dozing like a cat on a sunny afternoon and mumbling some stupid wisdom. Have you had such disorders before?”

“I do not remember as such,” said Aditi, “But my mother often tells me that I used to sleepwalk in my childhood. I even broke my arm once.”

“Oh, that’s quite serious. How did you get rid of it?”

“I do not know. I just recovered,” said Aditi as she gazed at the windshield, “I think I should prepare to leave; I am nearing my station.”

“Oh, sure,” said Suyash with a tinge of bitterness as the bus raced past the Civil Service Hospital. It was the best moment he had had in a while. He never thought it would end so soon.

“You know what happens when a somnambulist girl meets a somniloquist boy?” asked Aditi as she handed her fare to the driver. Suyash shook his head.

“She walks away,” she said, as both watched each other with eyes that unquestionably wanted more. She added, preparing to leave her seat, “But the boy can always guide her with his words.”

Suyash realised he could not just let her disappear in this expansive city, never to be found again.

“May I ask you something?” said Suyash.

“Sure,” said Aditi.

Suyash produced a smartphone from his pocket. He wanted to ask for her phone number, but as he turned on his phone, he caught a glimpse of his wallpaper, which read ‘Minimise Entropy’. This got him thinking, and he could not immediately justify whether what he wanted to do was the right thing to do.

“Hello, you lost?” said Aditi, to which he immediately responded, “Do you work for this transportation company?”

“No,” said Aditi, stunned by the unexpected question. “But, why?” she asked.

This time, Suyash could not look into her eyes. With an innocent expression and ingenuous sincerity, he said, “Because at the back side of this bus, they have written: We make travel fun!”

Aditi’s face immediately lit up, and she smiled with pure joy in reaction to his statement. Suyash thought to himself that he had never seen some more beautiful and graceful. He felt really proud, but the pride could not last long. The bus reached New Baneshwor, and Aditi got off her seat. Suyash started hating himself for his inability to ask for her number. A part of his heart was saying, “This is life. Strangers come and go, like the wind, giving you a brief chill.” The other part told him, “Come on, Suyash. She is still there, do it, ask for it!”

Aditi was ready to climb down, but the bus would not stop. It just kept moving lackadaisically, and some passengers even began hurling abuse at the driver. Aditi immediately turned around to Suyash and said, “You know, adulting has some perks as well.”

“Like?” asked confused Suyash with some glimmer of hope in his eyes.

Aditi produced a pen and paper from her bag, wrote something on it and handed it to him. “You can always decide for yourself whether to go out on a coffee date,” she said with an adorable smile.

The bus finally stopped, and Aditi climbed down. Suyash could not believe what had just happened. His surprised eyes met those of the driver. The driver gave Suyash a quick thumbs up and pressed the accelerator as he watched Aditi walk into his looking glass. She was navigating her steps like she was dancing. Her hands and head were swaying to the beats of some imaginary playful music in her mind. The driver smiled, proud of his little act, and Suyash realised that he had never had such peace and order of mind in the past few days.

Parajuli is a student of aerospace engineering at IOE, Pulchowk Campus.