Ajit Kanojia
I still remember the first day I saw Kamini. It was during our MBA program, a time when life felt like an endless race of presentations, assignments, and debates. We were both fiercely ambitious, driven by our dreams and perhaps a bit too competitive for our own good. Kamini always sat in the next row beside me in the lecture hall. Her presence was impossible to ignore, not because she was trying to stand out, but because she had this quiet confidence that drew people in, including me.
Our initial interactions were far from cordial. We were often on opposite sides of any debate, and our clashes were frequent. It wasn’t that we disliked each other personally, but rather, we were both too stubborn to back down from our positions. She would challenge my ideas with a sharp wit that both frustrated and intrigued me. I would counter with logic and data, but Kamini had a way of seeing through numbers, touching on the human element of every argument.
One day, after yet another heated debate that left us both exhausted, I found myself unable to focus. Her words lingered in my mind, not because they stung, but because they made sense. It was in that moment that I realized something had shifted. The irritation I once felt began to dissolve, replaced by a growing respect for her intellect and a curiosity about the person behind those arguments.
It didn’t take long for that curiosity to turn into something deeper. We started talking outside of class, initially about the lectures and debates, but soon those conversations evolved into discussions about life, dreams, and fears. Kamini was passionate about travel. She spoke about it with a sparkle in her eyes that made me see the world differently. She dreamed of visiting far-off places, not just as a tourist, but as a traveler who wanted to immerse herself in different cultures, to learn and grow from every experience.
One evening, during a particularly quiet moment in the library, Kamini showed me a picture of a beach. The golden sands met with the turquoise waters under a clear blue sky. She spoke about how serene and beautiful it looked, and how she’d always wanted to visit that place. When I asked where it was, she mentioned it was a beach in Da Nang. I had no idea where Da Nang was, but something about the way she spoke made me want to know more. I went home that night and immediately googled it, discovering that Da Nang was in Vietnam.
The more I read about Da Nang, the more I could see why Kamini was so drawn to it. It wasn’t just the beach; it was the culture, the history, the food, and the sense of peace that seemed to permeate through every image I saw. The next day, I promised her that one day, I would take her to that beach and capture her in the same image she had shown me. She laughed, thinking it was a sweet but unrealistic promise, given the demands of our lives.
Time went on, and our relationship blossomed. What started as a rivalry turned into a deep friendship into marriage