THE PERFECT ARRANGEMENT...

Major part of our country's population is opting for arranged marriages. Reason: I am not sure either, as I am not an analyst or a psychologist. But I guess it is because Indians, many of them, if not all, heart-in heart, do not want to change the age-old traditions. However, I was never interested in a marriage arranged by my parents. It is not that I don't trust them, but it is because I didn't like the idea at all. I always thought love happens, naturally. It should and can never be arranged. And also, what do my parents know about what kind of a guy I want. So, I had set out searching for my 'natural love.' I had tried everything under the sky. I had gone out with a few, had made new friends, I searched faces desperately and even went to the extent of blind dating. But no! I'd never found anyone who had interested me enough for a second meeting at least. My parents, naturally, were worried.
"How long do you choose to stay unmarried?" my father asked me one night, quite abruptly. Such situations were not entirely new to me and I tried to cut him off.
"Listen!" he said, this time, a little stern, "I don't understand what you have got against arranged marriages."
"Dad, I told you this so many times," I tried to reason with him, "it sounds like a business deal and I don't my life to be settled like one."
"If you fee that way," my dad continued, making it clear to me that this time, he is not going to give up that easily, "do you think there is no love in our marriage? Don't you believe that your mother and I love each other. Ours was an arranged marriage, you know?"
But, I was not convinced. "Dad, you lived in a different time. Times change dad. Today, the whole perspective of marriage has changed..." I was about to say something else.
But, my dad snapped, "nothing has changed." Looking at my expression, he seemed to soften up a little. He continued softly, "there is my friend's son..."
"Oh no!" I interjected, "not again!"
"Please," he said more persuasively, "at least, listen to me. We think he is perfect for you. Just meet him once. Just once. If you don't like him, I promise you, I'll never try to convince you again in this matter."
I thought for a moment.
I wasn't sure, for a moment, which one was more attractive- was it the promise that dad made or was it my anxiety to see which kind of a man my parents thought would be perfect for me. I couldn't wait to prove them wrong. After all, they dint know what I actually wanted!
Somehow, what ever the reason was, I agreed to go out with 'the perfect guy.'
I was dressed quite plainly and dint take any special effort to look beautiful. All I was interested in was to get this ordeal done with, rush home and voice my rejection of my parent's 'perfect guy.'
It turned out I was partly right. When he arrived, he neither took my breath away, nor made my heart skip a beat. He was just like this ordinary-looking guy, who wouldn't turn many heads.
"Strike one!" I thought, triumphantly. How could my parents even think we would fit in together? He smiled uncertainly and let his hand out to introduce himself. His grip was firm. But, nah! The handshake was so business -like. And that was what I loathed the most- making marriage a 'business.'
But when he had started talking, a little reservedly at first, and then more openly later, in spite of myself, I was a little amused. And then, he smiled. Hmmm... he actually didn't look that bad when he smiled. In fact, if I had met him at another place, at another time, under different circumstances, I would have called him attractive. But now, he is my parent's choice. He couldn't be that good. Or could he?
As time progressed, I couldn't help enjoying myself more and more. Soon, I became aware of a contradiction to my earlier thoughts shaping up in my mind. He was actually good, very good. What surprised me the most was how much alike we both were. My father wasn't joking when he had said, 'perfect for me.' And until now, I wasn't aware that my parents knew so much about me, so much that they have chosen this man for me.
I couldn't be more sorry when the meeting (or I would rather call it a really lovely date) was over. With all my thoughts turned topsy-turvy, I let him drive me home. I shyly bade him good night and disappeared into my room, without even a word for my anxious parents. That was my ego!
But truly speaking, I couldn't wait for out next meeting, which I suspected wasn't far away.
A few weeks later, one night, after yet another great evening, at my door, he said a little hesitantly, "I should tell you something." I was a little alarmed at the tone of his voice, as I didn't want anything to spoil what we were having. Now, all I wanted to do was to admit to my parents that I was wrong and they were right, absolutely right! Oh! how right they were!
"I was really not very interested in meeting you, in the beginning," he said, evidently trying to put his words carefully and he added hastily, "only in the beginning, not now." He searched my face and said slowly, "I always felt love should come, all by itself. No can can set it up. But, my parents..." I needn't listen to the rest. I smiled and could feel it growing by the time he finished, "I didn't think I would say this to a girl after knowing her for such a little time but," he paused, moved nearer to me, as my heart started beating wildly, "but I think I'm falling in love...I am falling in love with you."
Only a few months later, we were married.

A BROKEN PROMISE...

“We’ll always be in touch,” we promised each other, amidst tears, “we’ll keep meeting every week.”

That was the day when we officially drifted apart.

These were the faces I had been seeing almost every day, for the past few years. These were the people, with whom I had shared joy and pain all these days. These are my friends, God’s present for me. All these years, my life had revolved pretty much around them.

I’d always thought we were inseparable. No one can ever tear us apart. Nothing could ever come in between us.

We were friends- the world’s best friends. I thought. When we had to go on in our separate ways, I was sad, of course! But, did it really matter? We can always keep ‘in touch!’ and also, there was that promise that we’d meet every week.

What I didn’t foresee was that the weeks would turn into months, and months into years. All of us got ‘unnaturally busy’ with our own lives, so busy that days passed and there came a point when we actually lost ‘touch.’ We no longer know what’s going in each other’s lives. The promise broke.

Even today, I keep wondering where all those magical moments had gone, when we all spent blissfully in each other’s company, where all the laughter had gone, where the magic bond that had kept us together had vanished.

Do my ‘friends’ feel the same way? Do they think about me? Do they miss me? Do they at least remember me? I have no way of knowing.

Somebody was so true when he said, “Life is like a train journey.” The person sitting right next to you is just a fellow passenger aboard. He might accompany you till the end of the journey or descend in the middle, and leave you to complete the rest of your journey alone.

BREAK UP...

The wind was gentle and cool. The full moon shone brightly in the night sky, enveloping the surrounding area in a silvery white embrace. I was walking bare-footed in the soft sand, beside him, hand-in hand, my palm enjoying the warmth of his. I felt as if I was dancing to the music of the waves lapping against the shore.

What more do I want? I wished this moment would never end. I sighed sadly, reminding myself that by tomorrow at the same time I would be thousands of miles away from here, away from him.

This was where I belonged, with him, beside him, close to him. This was what I wanted, to be able to see his face, his eyes and his smile always. I smiled contentedly.

Who said maintaining long distance relationships was hard? In love, distances never matter! To people in love all that matters is love, trust and a sense of belonging to each other.

The very thought of not being able to snuggle close to him in bed, see him sleeping peacefully beside me when I wake up in the morning brought tears into my eyes. If only he made a promise of commitment, a commitment that would last a lifetime, I would happily give up my career and everything else just to be with him, live with him, make him happy. I wondered when that moment would arrive and I suspected that it was not very far away.

I looked at him. He stared ahead blankly. It was strange because he was never usually quiet. In fact, he had been quiet most of the day and I surely didn’t like it. Something is bothering him.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” I finally broke the silence, and stopped walking, my hand still in his. He started and looked at me with the same boyish innocence that made me go gaga over him a few years back, drove me nuts and resulted in me spending numerous sleepless nights when I first got attracted to him.

But, hold on! Something was missing there today. I tried looking deeper. Something didn’t look good. He is surely hiding something from me. Was it something related to us? Me?

“What’s bothering you? Are you alright?” I asked him half-suspiciously.

“No,” he stammered, “I mean…yes. No!”

“Honey,” I said touching his cheek lightly with my other hand, “what ever it is, you know you can tell me.”

He looked at me nervously. His eyes spoke for me, though his lips didn’t move. Suddenly, something he had said earlier flashed in my mind.

“I had no idea maintaining long-distance relationships is this hard. Why does it have to be this way?” he had said. I hadn’t paid much attention to it back then. But now, I could read the message plainly on his face.

“I can’t do this,” he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

The implication of the last few words had crossed my mind and I slowly retracted my hand from his, moving away from him, in sheer horror.

“You don’t mean it, do you?” I could barely find my voice. Tears welled up in my eyes. His own eyes grew moist as he looked at me and meekly whispered, “I’m really sorry!”

I wanted to scream at him.

I wanted pummel him.

I wanted to fall on my knees and beg him to give ‘us’ another chance.

I wanted to faint.

I wanted to die.

I wanted to do anything, anything at all that would change his mind.

But one look at his face and I understood that it was all over.

I had traveled for what seemed like and eternity just to see his smiling face, to hear him say, “I love you,” not “its over.” No! I can’t bear hearing him say that!

Oh! How much I wished this was all a nightmare. I can open my eyes and it would be over.

Oh! How much I want him to take me into his arms and say that it was all a joke!

How much I want him to kiss me!

How much I want to hear him assuring me that he would always be there for me!

But, he just stood there staring at his feet like a faulty schoolboy. Why doesn’t he say anything? Does he think that there’s nothing left to say? Well! If that is what he wants, if he thinks he doesn’t need me anymore, so be it.

I quietly moved away as my heart grew heavy, tears streaming down my face and started walking away from him, never looking back at him once.

With every step I took, I felt the distance between us growing, I felt a pain like never before- the pain of tearing myself apart from him. I still hoped he would stop me. He didn’t. As there was nothing else left for me to do over here, I walked into the darkness.