Arranged Love: P1- First Date

For every wound there is always a combination of words that can heal it, sometimes just by hearing this, sometimes those words inspire you to do something that would heal.

Like always I was before time, the sun rays were falling on me. On a winter evening, it’s a luxury. I didn’t mind this wait. I was supposed to be impatient and nervous, but I was feeling only the warmth of sun rays.

A girl came by the door, she was wearing a white top and blue jeans. She seemed to be lost, her eyes were looking for something perhaps me, and not perhaps, it’s me. Our eyes met for a few seconds, but it was enough for me to know that she was the one. Some beauties cannot be confined in words, sometimes it’s a feeling. I had seen her photo, but they captured only the physical appearance, not the magical energy they carry in themselves.

5’’ height, 25 years, working in a bank as an officer with 10 LPA. This is what I knew when my parents had set this meeting, but for now, none of these things mattered. She should have had written about her radiant brown eyes, the perfect dimple smile, beautiful eyes, her curly hairs, her magical energy and tiny black birthmark below the lower lips. Even God believed in superstition before sending her on the earth.

“I am sorry for being late, actually I have just shifted here in Delhi, No idea about new places." Contrary to me, there was only calmness in her voice.

“It’s fine, I just got here too,” I poured the practiced sentence.

“Why you want to marry?” her question caught me off guard. I was not expecting this.

“I think it’s my perfect time to settle down and start my own family.” I have seen this line on some profiles I scrolled.

“Come on! You are a writer, this was not expected from you,” she winked.

“Perhaps too old to fall in love, but too young to give up the idea of love. So just the perfectly aged for marriage.”

“Wow! Impressive.”

“Why you want to marry?” it was my turn to dig in.

“Because my parents want me to.”

Why I couldn’t think of this at first.

“Is there anything you want to share, which is not mentioned in your profile?” it was my last prepared line with the intentions of knowing her past.

“I write poems, it’s just they are confined in my diary only.”

Everything she spoke was so musical.

“Whose writings inspire you?” she asked me.

“I like Paulo Coelho because he is different, he talks about destiny, energy, soul and most importantly the dreams.”

“But these things aren’t real, it feels good to talk about them, but they don’t change lives.”

She was certainly realistic.

“Life is full of ironies. Money, logic seem real, but they can be created, twisted or destroyed. On the other hand - energy, soul, destiny seem virtual; but you cannot create or destroy them.”

“Are you planning to run a family by energy, soul, etc.?” she asked jokingly to lighten up the mood.

“Certainly not without them.”

”You are really a nice guy. I didn’t even realize it has been an hour.“

She started to pack things.

“Is that a new way of saying yes?” I was smiling all over.

“No, it means I need time and I will think about you,” she teased.

“Can we share the cab till your place?”

“Okay”

“I want to read a story of yours,” she asked me in the cab.

I opened my blog and gave her my best story. When the story ended, she was crying. It was a sad ending story, but she was showing too much emotion over an ordinary story.

“Could you do me a favor?”

“Yeah, Sure!"

“Stay at my place tonight. I want you to write a story for me. But there is a condition. Marriage will be off the table after that.”

.....To Be continued.