At 12:06 a.m., Kabir opened strangersonline.com, connected with a stranger, and immediately made a mistake.
Kabir27: Good morning.
He stared at the message. Outside his window, even the street dogs had stopped arguing.
Meera26: Where are you chatting from? Tomorrow?
Kabir27: Sorry. My fingers are more ambitious than the rest of me.
Meera26: If you’re from tomorrow, tell me whether I finally fold the clothes on my chair.
Kabir27: I’ve seen the future. The chair belongs to the clothes now.
Meera laughed. The spare chair in her room, currently wearing three outfits, supported his prediction.
Meera26: What are you doing awake?
Kabir27: I said I’d sleep early, then spent forty minutes choosing something to watch.
Meera26: What did you choose?
Kabir27: You, apparently.
Meera26: Terrible decision. No subtitles. Unpredictable plot.
Kabir27: Any comedy?
Meera26: Depends how long you keep typing.
He grinned at the screen. She was considerably more entertaining than the film previews.
Kabir27: Tell me something unusual about yourself.
Meera26: I have several completely useless talents.
Kabir27: Finally. My area of expertise.
Within two minutes, they had invented a competition. The winner would receive absolutely nothing. The loser would also receive absolutely nothing.
Meera26: Very fair prize structure.
Kabir27: We take equality seriously at the Championship of Nothing.
Kabir claimed he could recognise any family member by the sound of their footsteps.
Meera26: Too useful. Disqualified.
Kabir27: I can balance a spoon on my nose.
Meera26: Now we’re getting somewhere. Unfortunately, nowhere useful.
He fetched a teaspoon and, after three attempts, persuaded it to stay in place. He sat perfectly still, typing with one cautious finger.
Kabir27: doing it now. cannot move.
Meera26: What if someone rings the doorbell?
Kabir27: they’ll have to respect the arts.
Meera announced that she could build a biscuit tower without eating any.
Kabir27: The stacking isn’t impressive. The self-control is.
Meera26: I’m building it now.
She arranged the biscuits beside her laptop. The growing tower leaned with the confidence of someone who had never studied engineering.
Meera26: Tower complete. Easy.
Kabir27: Photographic evidence?
Meera26: We’re using the honour system. Nobody invents this achievement to look attractive.
Kabir laughed. The spoon fell directly into his lap.
Kabir27: You’ve sabotaged my performance.
Meera26: International sport is brutal.
While composing her reply, she ate the top biscuit without thinking.
Meera26: Small update. The tower is shorter now.
Kabir27: Structural failure?
Meera26: Internal corruption.
Neither was keeping score. Both suspected they were winning.
The next round began when Kabir went to the kitchen for water and noticed a large steel container in the fridge.
Kabir27: We have a mystery.
Meera26: Finally. A plot.
Kabir27: Huge container. Suspiciously light. What do you think is inside?
Meera26: Leftover onion. Possibly three peas with a future.
Kabir27: Mum closed it like it contains the family jewellery.
Meera26: Then open it respectfully.
He lifted the lid. In the middle of a container large enough for dinner sat one little piece of lemon.
Kabir27: One piece of lemon. Entire apartment to itself.
Meera26: Independent living. Good for it.
Kabir27: I share a cupboard with the vacuum cleaner. This lemon has better arrangements.
Meera26: Does it contribute to household expenses?
Kabir27: Only acidity.
He returned the lid, laughing so hard he nearly dropped it.
Meera26: Don’t disturb it. It probably works from home.
Kabir27: Should I knock next time?
Meera26: Basic manners, Kabir.
Back at his desk, he proposed awarding himself three points for solving the mystery.
Meera26: You opened a box.
Kabir27: Detectives get entire television series for less.
She offered him one point and a written warning from the lemon’s housing society.
He accepted. Negotiations had been difficult.
Meera’s next reply arrived with a delay. Her twenty-one-year-old brother had appeared in the doorway, wrapped in a blanket and holding an empty water bottle.
‘Why are you making that noise?’ he asked.
‘What noise?’
‘Like a kettle trying to keep a secret.’
She attempted a dignified expression. It lasted less than a second.
‘I’m talking to someone.’
He inspected the biscuits. ‘About building materials?’
He took one from the tower, removing another floor, and shuffled towards the kitchen.
‘Please laugh in lowercase,’ he called back.
Meera returned to the chat.
Meera26: My brother says I sound like a kettle keeping a secret.
Kabir27: Strong entry. Is he competing?
Meera26: He’s dressed like a ghost on a water break.
Kabir27: Also strong. Your family has depth.
Meera26: He stole a biscuit.
Kabir27: Did you report the missing floor to the building authority?
Meera26: My tower is getting shorter.
Kabir27: We’re witnessing the housing crisis in real time.
She pushed the remaining biscuits away from the edge of the desk.
Meera26: Stop making me laugh. He’s trying to sleep.
Kabir27: Understood. I’ll type quietly.
His next message arrived entirely in lowercase.
kabir27: is this better?
Meera had to bury her face in her sleeve.
After the laughter settled, Meera looked at the clock. Nearly an hour had disappeared.
Meera26: I needed this tonight.
Kabir27: A competitive biscuit incident?
Meera26: A conversation I don’t have to overthink.
She explained that earlier she had rewritten a two-word message four times: ‘Okay, thanks.’ Too cold? Add an exclamation mark. Too cheerful? Remove it. Add a smiley. Delete the smiley.
Kabir27: Meanwhile, I said good morning to you in the middle of the night and survived.
Meera26: A valuable case study.
Kabir glanced at the little plant beside his laptop. Two leaves leaned towards the light; a third seemed undecided about continuing.
Kabir27: I bought a plant to become more responsible.
Meera26: How’s that going?
Kabir27: It looks worried.
Meera26: Does it have a name?
Kabir27: Not yet.
Meera26: Call it Tomorrow. You already seem very familiar with that concept.
He wrote ‘Tomorrow’ on a scrap of paper and propped it against the pot.
Kabir27: Done. It has more personality already.
Meera26: Tell it I said good morning.
Kabir27: You’re enjoying this far too much.
She was. And for once, when she typed ‘haha’, she didn’t stop to decide whether two more letters would seem excessive.
At 1:18 a.m., they remembered the championship.
Kabir27: Final scores?
Meera26: I’ve got seventeen.
Kabir27: How?
Meera26: Five for biscuits. Twelve for tolerating you.
Kabir27: I’ve made myself a crown.
He had folded a brown takeaway bag into something that looked less royal than he had intended.
Meera26: You can’t declare yourself the winner.
Kabir27: This isn’t a declaration. It’s headwear.
Meera26: What does it look like?
Kabir27: A king who’s had a disappointing lunch.
She laughed, bumped the desk, and finally knocked over the remaining biscuit tower.
Meera26: My trophy has collapsed.
Kabir27: Mine is cutlery. We must protect the dignity of this event.
They declared a tie. Neither could remember the rules well enough to object.
Before logging off, they signed up so they could add each other as friends on StrangersOnline. There was apparently a plant to check on and a lemon whose living situation required further investigation.
Meera26: Goodnight, Champion of Nothing.
Kabir27: Goodnight, joint Champion of Nothing. Please respect the full title.
He put the spoon away. She ate the fallen biscuits. Both finally went to bed.
The next morning, Kabir opened a new message from her.
Meera26: Goodnight.
Kabir27: It’s nine in the morning.
Meera26: Different time zone.
Kabir27: Which one?
Meera26: Kabir Standard Time.
