The Horoscope
Cinnamon Islands is a nation in the southern part of Asia, surrounded by the Indian Ocean. The coastal plains enjoy tropical weather, while the hills and mountains experience cooler climates, and the interior reflects an almost English atmosphere. The central highlands, known as Little England, owe their name to this distinctive weather.
This opening chapter unfolds the story of two remarkably different souls who are about to embark on a journey—one whose path neither of them could have foreseen, and whose destination is shaped by destiny itself.
Naren is twenty-six years old, about five feet eight inches tall, with sharp eagle eyes, short dark hair, a prominent nose, and tan skin like most islanders. His well-groomed beard adds maturity to an otherwise baby-faced appearance. As he often jokes, one of his ex-girlfriends suggested the beard. Although their relationship ended mutually, the beard stayed.
He prefers clean cotton shirts and usually wears black or beige dockers. Living in the city with his parents, he is unapologetically a mama’s boy—even if he would never admit it aloud. He works for an IT company as a consultant.
Naren drives an old Benz passed down from his father, which he has modified using his mechanical skills. One notable modification allows the front passenger door to be opened from the inside—a thoughtful adjustment that prevents his father from being mistaken for him by any of Naren’s girlfriends, saving the girl’s dignity and maintaining peace at home.
His love life resembles a saloon door—one goes out, another enters. Occasionally, when his mother discovers his latest relationship, all hell breaks loose. Still, Naren carried on—until he met Elin.
Elin is twenty-four years old, a newcomer to the city originally from the countryside of Little England. She is reticent, naïve yet proud, with innocent, glittering eyes that seem to speak on their own. Her stubborn, straight hair falls to her shoulders, complementing her medium height, olive complexion, and charming smile.
Each day of the week, Elin wears a specific colour paired with stone jewellery to match. Her nails are neatly trimmed and unpainted. Light makeup subtly defines her features, and the final touch—the cherry on the cake—is the soft shadow tint on her eyelids, always matching her outfit.
She works as a trainee at City Bank, where Naren frequently visits for consultancy work. In addition, she works part-time at the city’s largest bookstore and lives with her aunt.
The day Naren laid eyes on Elin, he realized she was the sketch etched into his heart. Still, he needed certainty. He relied on his peculiar belief—his practice of analyzing hands first and then toes to gain insight into a person’s nature. Though he could never fully explain what he looked for, the condition of nails and toes always offered him a surprisingly accurate impression. Because of workplace boundaries, he couldn’t speak to Elin at the bank. Instead, he began visiting the bookstore, pretending to buy books. Every sign pointed in one direction—she was the one. But approaching her was difficult; Elin showed no interest. She wasn’t ready for another failed relationship. Her focus was on work, further studies, and her dream of becoming a writer someday.
After a month of effort—discussing subjects he knew nothing about, buying books he had no intention of reading, pretending to read in the bookstore lounge, and visiting the bank even when he had no business there—Naren finally succeeded. Elin agreed to meet him for tea.
Since Naren was already planning to marry her someday, he shared everything with her. He was an open book. Elin, on the other hand, revealed herself one page at a time.
Naren preferred that Elin accept the bank’s offer of full-time employment. However, given her fiercely independent nature, such topics required careful handling. Strategy was Naren’s strength, and he always framed his ideas as suggestions when they met at Green Terrace, Elin’s favourite tea spot.
“As a suggestion, why don’t you accept the bank offer and work full-time there?” “I like my hours at the bookstore, and I’m happy with my current arrangement. I enjoy my free time.” “You seem to have a lot of free time. Even though I’m not supposed to disturb you, would you like to tell me what you do with it?” “Thinking,” Elin replied with a smile. “Thinking about what? You’re a Virgo and a perfectionist. What are you trying to perfect now? You certainly gave me a hard time reaching you.” “I’m not a perfectionist. Perfection is a misconception of the mind.” “Then why did you take so long to answer?” “Homework,” Elin giggled. “What homework?” “You always glance at my hands first. You drive your dad’s old Benz, which tells me you’re classy, not flashy. You modified the passenger door, so your girlfriends won’t mistakenly get in when your dad is driving—saving their dignity and keeping peace with your mother. You pretended to read, but your attention was always on Lilly’s horoscope column in Digest City Magazine. You analyzed me to see if I fit your blueprint. You did your homework before approaching me. You were looking for a needle in a haystack.” “Oh, my Elin. I was only analyzing your hands and feet—while you were scanning me.”
They both laughed.
“By the way, that perfectionist line—wasn’t it from Lilly’s horoscope column?” “Could be. Can’t remember,” Elin replied curtly. “I love that column. A distinctive approach to a traditional system—full of insight,” Naren said, ending the conversation.
Naren decided not to push the full-time bank position, at least for now. He realized he had a long road ahead in understanding Elin, who would never be as transparent with him as he was with her. Still, he was deeply in love. Giving her the space to be herself felt like the best way forward.
On certain long weekends, Elin visits her parents in the countryside. This was one such weekend, and Naren volunteered to drive her home. Elin suggested they take the train instead, enjoying the panoramic mountain views. Naren agreed.
The day before their trip, however, he received an urgent call from work requiring his presence mid-weekend. Determined not to disrupt their plan entirely, he decided to travel halfway with her before returning, allowing Elin to continue alone.
Though short, the journey was meaningful. Just before Naren disembarked at the midpoint station, Elin handed him a special edition of Digest City Magazine, which included Lilly’s horoscope columns.
The next night, before going to bed, Naren began reading. Between the pages, he found handwritten notes—unfinished lines crossed out, words rewritten. A poem titled The Planets and the Colour Wheel, signed simply:
Lilly
In that moment, Naren realized the truth.
Lilly was Elin.