ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS

35. MY HEART DOESN'T LIE

A week later, Amit calls me and asks me if I am interested in seeing the New York Philharmonic Orchestra. I start to think that maybe I was wrong about him. He might be someone very passionate about art and culture.

So I say yes to give him another chance. I am rather calm, even though this is the first time a guy has asked me out. My heart isn't pounding like what you read in typical romances. I recall what my mother said. "Love can grow later."

I am waiting for Amit in front of the Lincoln Center. The weather is getting slightly chilly, and I have my black dress on with my trench coat over it. My black high heels are shining from the reflection of the light in the concert hall.

I check my watch because he is already thirty minutes late and the concert will be starting very shortly. It isn't a good sign to be late for our first date. In the distance, Amit walks toward me and waves his hand. He has his suit on, and I assume he must have come directly from his internship at one of the biggest law firms in New York City. He walks to me.

"I am sorry that I am late. There was an emergency assignment that needed to be finished at the law office."

We rush to the entrance and go up the staircase to get to the hall. By the time we are finally seated, the lights darken. The concert starts with Violin Concerto no. 3 by Mozart. The light sound of the violin comforts my ears.

It is amazing to see how much the world has loved the music of Mozart. The sound he created is still bringing happiness to so many people. My heart is filled with joy and contentment. His melody lifts my spirit high. I almost forget that this is our first date, and forgive Amit for being late.

When the next piece, Mozart's "A Little Night Music," is finished, we go out to the bar and sip something to drink. When I am waiting for him in the lobby, Amit brings two glasses of champagne. I thank him and take a glass.

He toasts.

"This is for our first date and our future!"

I hesitate a little, salute him with my glass.

"I didn't know that you loved classical music!"

He smiles at me.

"Well, my taste in music varies a lot. This is something I am starting to acquire the taste of, just like good wine. Culture is important to me because cultural people are sophisticated people."

"My boss told me that it is important to learn how to play golf because it helps entertaining clients. So I am going to start golf lessons near where we live."

I see that he is very pragmatic about his life. For him, everything is something to acquire—whether it is work, a hobby, or probably even marriage. I ask him about Mozart.

"So what did you think about Violin Concerto no. 3? Did you like it? Did you feel the joy?"

He looks at me as if he doesn't get my question.

"That's not something you enjoy. Cultural things are supposed to be boring and snobbish, aren't they?"

Clearly, he is not someone who feels classical music. He must be going to concerts because he likes the idea of being intellectual. For him, it is the process of being accepted by affluent society in New York City.

The light in the lobby becomes dim, and it is time for us to walk back to the concert hall to enjoy the last performance. It is Serenade for Strings by Tchaikovsky, one of my favorite pieces. It reminds me of the late nights I studied after finishing my report for the doctor.