Battery Park Sunset

“Where are you from?” the girl with blue eyes asked.

“I am from India. What about you” I replied.

“Brooklyn. Where is India, is it in Asia?”

“Yeah it is”

“What brings you all the way here to New York?”

“Business, I am attending a few conferences. What do you do?”

“I am an artist”

“Oh, that’s cool”

“Haha, Nah it is the only thing I know how to do,” she said looking away

“I observed that you’ve been quite low. Is everything alright?” I asked

She gave me a stare. Looked back into the southern waters of Manhattan and then nodded. “It is my boyfriend’s birthday today,” she said, her voice cracking.

“Oh that is great,” I said, not knowing what would be an appropriate response.

“I called him thinking he’d like to spend time with me on his birthday you know, but he didn’t want me there,” she said, without making eye contact

“I’m sorry to hear that” I said, “Did he tell you why?”

“He said he wanted to spend it with his boyfriends. I just don’t understand how he’d want to do that without me. I mean doesn’t he want to just meet me even once today?”

“What does he do?”

“Oh he’s studying something here but he’s loaded. He’s some Arab prince”

So this is what the most wealthy youngsters do. They hang out in Manhattan, the best place on earth, arguably. I thought to myself.

“Does this happen often? Him preferring his friends over you?” I pried shamelessly.

“Yeah, the last few weeks have been that way. We even had a conversation over it. He said he won’t do it again but he did. I don’t really know if he appreciates my personality or my company anymore. It makes me so sad. I want his attention, approval and involvement in my life but he just doesn’t care much. Are all men assholes like this? I’m sorry you seem like a nice guy but you know what I am talking about right?” she ranted

I could sense that she was feeling vulnerable and that probably she never had a heartbreak before. From whatever little she told me she was clinging on to a toxic person. She was succumbing to sunk cost fallacy.

She had tears rolling down her face now.

I didn’t know what to tell her. “Well, when I faced rejections or adversity in my life or when someone made me feel unwanted or less wanted, I have a secret method to make myself feel better,” I told her

She looked at me, her curiosity was very visible. “What is it?”

“I ask myself, whose loss is it?”

“What do you mean?” she asked

“It is only when our love for ourselves is not adequate enough that we start to become vulnerable and dependent on other people’s validation of us” I paused giving her time to take it in

“When we are head over heels in love with ourselves, we value ourselves more than anything else in this world. We feel invincible no matter how far from reality it actually is. That feeling of invincibility is something everyone would have experienced in their lifetime. There must be some incident for you too right?” I asked

“Yes, of course. I was very confident as a child. In fact, I am proud of my work even now. That does make me feel invincible” she answered

“Well, then if you’re able to get to that feeling again, you will know you’re the best. It is then you ask yourself, whose loss is it? when someone ignores you or makes you feel unwanted. His loss, isn’t it?” I paused again

“This just sounds like a defense mechanism” she smirked

“Well, whatever works,” I said

“So what do you do?” she asked

“I build voice applications”

“Like Alexa?”

“Yes, exactly like Alexa”

“That’s cool. Do you want to see some of my work?” she asked

“Sure, that would be great”

She got up and came closer to me. She opened her Instagram handle and started showing me her work.

I was terrified.

“This is something I made a few weeks back. I like dark themes,” she said

I looked at the rest of the images and I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I would have never guessed her style if I didn’t see her art. I felt she was a completely different person on Instagram. Skulls, blood and all sorts of demons and spirits. Appearances can be deceiving. I thought to myself.

“Why dark themes?” I asked

“I just have a lot of affinity towards that style” she said. “You should come over to my party tomorrow” she invited

“Is it your birthday?”

“No, but my friend is coming over from Austin, she is proper fun”

“That’s cool”

“Well, actually she’s been through a lot. All through her life she knew she was uncomfortable being a boy. She knew something was off. Finally she got the courage to tell her parents and now she’s getting some hormone stuff done”

“Oh, I see” I replied “Good for her”

“How is it in your country? People over there accept trans and LGBTQ folks?”

“Well.. not so much, I guess” I said “It is definitely getting better though. It requires a ton of unlearning and learning to remove all sorts of conditioning”

The reality is far from it though. Indian society is as cruel and unsupportive as it can get. Forget people at your work or school, your own family can be unempathetic. Anything apart from “ordinary” as defined by obsolete traditions is considered abnormal and scorned upon even by parents. Nothing can be more devastating and heartbreaking than own family feeling embarrassed or disappointed in you for something that is not even your fault. Their ignorance is the root cause of the problem.

The sunset was beautiful. Groups of people doing exercises far away in the park. No dogs though. Older folks with drinks in their hands, covered in brown paper bags were walking along the water. It was time for me to join my friend for a movie somewhere in midtown. I checked my phone for the easiest (cheapest) way to reach 42nd street.

“It was nice meeting you …” I forgot her name

“Yeah same here and thanks for talking to me, I needed that”

“No problem”

“Hit me up on instagram” she said as we walked towards the South Ferry station.

We bid each other goodbye and I never followed her on Instagram. I don’t remember the handle anymore. I wonder if she got out of her toxic relationship. I wonder if she remembers this random conversation.