Cupid never had a chance in their messy, parental-restricted love story
Karishma Jha, a twenty-one-year-old recent graduate with the world at her feet if only she chose to face it. Plagued with the worries of the future and yet healing from the scar...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Yes, yes, I bought my dress. And my ticket. And I am not going to miss it for the world," I spoke into the phone, my lunch forgotten on my lap and the stack of paper stopped from flying away by a random stone.
Work was important but being a good friend was more important.
"I have the entire weekend blocked, and promise to not take up any new project," I side-eyed my project at the moment.
Kashish's wedding was in three weeks from now. The initial planning of the charity ball should be finalized by then. However, if he chose to be too difficult, he could make a liar out of me. And then I would have to maim him.
Rishabh sat one step above me, digging into his second Vada pav which looked so much more tempting than my cold and soggy dosa. His knees were joined together and angled towards me, while he took surreptitious glances under his lashes, keeping track of my conversation.
We sat on the steps of yet another hall we had to visit. Just before entering, my very audible rumbling stomach let us know it needed to be fed. It was almost three in the afternoon.
"We should have lunch before going in," Rishabh turned to me with a sheepish look in his eyes. "Sorry, I lost track of time."
"So how is he?" I could hear the morbid curiosity in her voice she was like she was asking about the date of my funeral. Both had the potential to upset me. One more than the other.
I had unburdened to her after only a week of meeting him. Or rather re-meeting him. It was a weekend and we were on a video call. My emotions were all over the place. The entire call I had catapulted between anger, sadness, frustration, and anxiety, bouncing around my apartment, and finding things to clean and organize
She had gauged my mood correctly and needled me till I spilled everything. The first retelling did very little to lighten my heart. And then she called Vaidehi and Sanya.
They had their own lives now as well.
Vaidehi ran her own fashion boutique and dabbled in the art world on the side. She was high in demand and lived in a creative nirvana.
Sanya was now a resident of London, working at a tech firm that paid her enough that she was able to fly into the country twice a year to meet her parents and extended family. She shared her happy and successful life with her husband and twins.
We all had turned out to be okay after all. And we were still good enough friends for them to hear me crib about my ex.
The second retelling was more animated and might have involved me throwing my empty wine bottle and using the shards to prick a Voodoo doll made out of dough, that was supposed to be Rishabh.
"Eh, hello? Dude, are you there?" Kashish words brought me back to our current conversation.
"Yes, I am here." I placed back the lid on my box. "But I have to go. There's another place I need to show him."
