I put my hand on his shoulder to comfort him. I had all of these people in my life, real and virtual, but I felt alone for the most part, and here was Ashray. Someone who really was alone, still somehow coping. Keeping his head above water.

He continued. ‘And with these panic attacks, I think it’s safe to say that I will be alone forever. Collapsing in a sweaty, messy ball isn’t exactly marriage material.’

Looking at this man, hearing his story, encouraged me. My problems seemed so small compared to his. He was inspirational, and I was grateful that I had dared to introduce myself to him. ‘What about you?’ he asked.

‘Not nearly as dramatic as you. I’m moderately famous—’

‘Famous?’ he interrupted me.

‘Moderately,’ I said. ‘Anyway, I found out that my second boyfriend in a row was cheating on me, I overworked, started drinking to overcome the exhaustion and eventually isolated everyone in my life until I collapsed in my living room and almost died.’

‘Almost dying is pretty dramatic,’ he said and smiled at me.

‘I guess, but I mean, I still have people in my life. It’s just that sometimes I wish they would just let me prove that I can do this by myself.’

‘Why would you want to be alone?’ he asked, genuinely curious. Feelings of guilt welled inside me when I remembered that he didn’t have anyone to lean on.

‘I don’t know,’ I said, not really understanding why I felt the way I did. ‘I guess I feel this need to be perfect.’

‘Nothing is perfect, Jhanvi.’

‘What do you mean?’

He held up his briefcase, the one I had been eyeing for a few sessions now, imagining all the photos I could take with it. ‘What do you think of this?’

‘It’s beautiful! So retro and worn, I love it! I would totally use it in one of my shoots.’ He nodded his head, seeming to agree with me.

‘So, you would say it is perfect then?’

‘Yes,’ I agreed, not understanding where he was going with this.

‘This briefcase is older than me. I detest it because it is old, it’s a sign that I haven’t quite made it in life yet; but to you, it is perfect.’

‘So why do you keep it?’ I asked, trying to understand what he was getting at.

‘Because it reminds me of where I have come from. The point is, I won’t get rid of it because I am attached and sentimental, but I do not see it in the same way that you do.’

‘You’re quite profound,’ I said, staring at my feet. ‘And you are not alone. ’ I looked up at him, making sure that he understood. ‘You have me now.’

‘Be careful, Jhanvi, I might get too attached,’ he said, smiling at me.

‘I wouldn’t mind,’ I replied.