A Beautiful Mistake…

By Maya Khandelwal

The internal conflict leads the central female character in a roller-coaster ride into her past when she came in contact with Aditya through a wrong phone call. Being a middle-class girl, she couldnt fly in the teeth of moral scruples imposed by society, of course. The reminiscences take her to the various ordeals underwent by her as a girl from the typical Punjabi background who aspired to marry a Baniya guy. Moreover, she was Papas good girl. How could she say she loves a guy other than the one chosen by him?

Find out the role played by destiny to bind the sweethearts into wedlock.

Wait . . .

Does it really work for long?

Does the lovers actually live happy ever after?

The story tells about Mansi who, amidst the untold joys of her wedded life, feels forlorn. She has a loving husband she yearned and fought for. What then causes her many sleepless nights?

The bubble of life may vanish any day. Why not leave a footprint on the intellectual world? She is torn between her liabilities as a mother and wife on one hand and her thirst for self-realization on the other.

Should she sacrifice her quest for self-identity at the altar of nuptial happiness?

Will the soul mates be reevaluating their special relationship or drift apart due to their separate sets of egos?

A question faced by innumerable couples in the turbulent urban life . . .

• Language: English
• Publisher: Partridge Publishing India
• Release date: Aug 7, 2013
• ISBN: 9781482810042

Maya Khandelwal

Happily married to writing, Maya Khandelwal is a published author of two books- A Beautiful Mistake and Just Zindagi. She's also co-authored I Am a Woman, a tribute to Kamala Das.Maya delineates her characters so vivid as to bring them live. Everything she describes, she describes with authenticity and creates an ambience one can visualize. Playing with soft emotions is her forte.

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Copyright © 2013 by Maya Khandelwal.

ISBN:         Softcover            978-1-4828-1018-9

                   Ebook                978-1-4828-1004-2

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Contents

In the Name of Love…

The Author’s Note

Acknowledgements

The Turmoil

The Heat Continued…

Reminiscences…

Rightly the Middle Class

The Sweet Pangs of Love

To be Face to Face…

The Pretty Slip-ups

The Dreams Cherished

The Betrayal

The Mishap

Basking in Memories

The First Meeting

The Divorce Filed

It was love for sure!

Love Confessed…

The Honeyed Talks…

Little Daisy

The Sweep of Nostalgia

Love Grew; Meetings Too…

The Family Reunion

How Life Played Tricks!

Love Stratagems

One Fascinating Bead of Memory

The Legal Proceedings

Fancies Running Untamed

Separation

A Proposal

Things Unspoken…

The Inescapable Twists

The Departure

The Lion and the Lamb

Sweet-n-Sour

The Longings

Our Angel

Time did heal wounds

Neha and Ishan

Dummy Run

The Changing Winds

At Aditya’s Workplace

Prince Born

The Proposed Visit

Ajmer

‘Honey Dew’

At Aditya’s…

The First Kiss

Plans… Plans… Plans…

Fire-n-Fury

Aditya Visits Dad

Neha’s Wedding

A Cascade of Memories

Dad Meeting Dad

All for the Sake of Love

Patience Paid Off

The Battle Won

The Sky Clear

Quite an Evening!

Sudha Di

The Engagement

The Epistle

The Dream Come True

Ten Years Later…

Love Unbound

The Vulnerable Me

Longings and Belongings

The Unexpected

In the Name of Love…

Dear Love,

It’s another milestone…

Thirteen years!

Sounds an overlong thread of time; no?

Time just slid by!!!

It’s been a fantastic journey in fact. I express my gratitude to God for having blessed us with such an extra ordinary pattern of love; love not on Facebook as might have been the case if we were born a little later but… love on land line!!!

A random call!!!

I had spent many of my laid back hours dreaming of an emerald eyed lover.

You were!

My heart didn’t go for an arranged marriage.

Gosh! We fell in love!!

I used to tremble before my Dad like scared jelly on a china plate but then I told him that I loved you; the wrong number guy!!!

Truly speaking Honey…

You have been my favourite mistake ever.

The Author’s Note

Since the day one the idea of writing a novel bubbled up in the subconscious state of my mind, till date, it’s been more or less like sitting with my fingers dipped into the serene waves of time, basking in the memories redolent of joy, picking up some random threads of past and weaving a beautiful present.

Life asks certain questions. A few however bother to answer. If you stand before the mirror and fail to recognize yourself that surely means you’ve done nothing worthwhile. The unease may be a blessing in disguise if you turn to self-analysis that very moment and find out your true worth.

The pain of writing, creating a unique world through words, is a pleasant pain indeed analogous to the pain a mother undergoes delivering a child. She very often harbors apprehensions whether she would survive the pain and actually be there to have her dream rock in her fond arms! An author likewise entertains the same fears while delivering the story into the hands of the hitherto been unknown people who will decide its fate.

Here I go with mine…

Acknowledgements

I express my gratitude to the following people for being there to boost my morale in more than one ways-

To my elder brother who actually sowed the seeds with a caring hand while the soil was most receptive and monitored throughout that the promise to growth didn’t go wasted.

To my parents who finally let me marry such a wonderful person whose shelter of arms has been my perpetual stay, who truly understands and cares like none other can, whose support has made me what I am.

To my beloved daughter of six who has grown so beautifully used to my prolonged sittings by my PC that she’s exultant when I am not! To my twelve years old son who has been a regular editor of my work and a wonderful friend so far.

To my beloved cousin who has been evaluating and re-evaluating my work despite her busy schedule as a professional.

To my professors who have been my torch bearers in all my literary pursuits.

To my in laws who have been showering most unconditional love upon us in each thick and thin of life.

The Turmoil

I asked myself… where the hell did it all go wrong?

Why the hell he wasn’t able to understand what whipped me inside?

With tears in eyes I wished I could strangle myself there and then.

Was it for the day I chose to be his?

I sobbed hard. The grief melted me within. The more I tried to contain my anguish, the more it threatened to consume my whole being. I kept crying, shutting myself up in the washroom and gathering the nerve to face him again.

A couple of moments later I somehow quashed the tail of pain and came out more pooped than energized after a shower.

Aditya had already knocked a number of times perhaps shaken by my raw little screams.

He couldn’t still give surety if he was awake.

He opened his arms to let me in, pressing me firm to his mannish trunk.

I gave out a burst of cry no longer able to uphold myself. I cried and cried like a child whose only teddy bear had been snatched away.

. . .

It was the dream I tenderly kept safe and sound under my pillow each night. It was the dream to be recognized by the gift I had.

. . .

‘Brother, can I ever hope I’d be able to write as you do?’ I would often ask my elder brother whom I looked up to as my role model. He studied English Literature in Saint Stephens College for Arts. In the heart of hearts somewhere I cherished the same ambition.

I actually aspired to be a university lecturer of the same subject.

Here were the seeds sown; the seeds that had caused me a number of uneasy nights though I sat in the lap of untold material pleasures today.

Literature urged my adolescent heart to dig out the maximum that life could offer. It was a ladder to mysticism. Precious were the moments when I basked in the perpetual river of thoughts, almost oblivious of my immediate surrounds. When my eyes fell on an expression which seemed very close to my heart, it sent matchless vibrations racing up and down my spinal column. It was the ‘only one of its kind’ pleasure I knew.

I would be entranced by the sheer magic of words and would zealously share the air travel of fancies that a certain poet embarked upon. Some of the poetic expressions had an absolute mesmeric effect on my parched soul.

I dreamt not of ‘a dashing, smashing, out of the world’ sort of a lover. I dreamt not of marriage, children, money or a world tour.

I often dreamt of outsized universities, spacious classrooms and of the podium I spoke on; of scholars who listened to me spell bound.

Whenever the dream occurred to my wakeful mind, I smiled, feeling enriched within. I never shared my dreams with anyone. It was my ‘personal treasure’ I got my stuff from. I would often plunge into this dreamy world when my present failed to gratify me.

Reading was my secretive way of inflowing into a safe haven I could escape from the pain of existence. A well-furnished library with books was the most idyllic place in the world for me.

Life was no doubt pretty full of little surprises, joys and magic moments but at times it felt like an endless journey. During the course of this journey our youth, our vigor, and our faculties of mind and heart slowly but surely dwindled.

I had never imagined that my life at one point would seem so empty.

It wasn’t that there lay no good in my life. Actually I was blessed to have a life partner who accepted me the way I was. We were highly compatible a couple as it seemed till date. I sometimes blinked to dispel the illusion, if an illusion it was to have such an ethically upright person as my husband.

. . .

. . .

As he saw I was indisposed to talk, he left for the living room. He picked up a magazine but failed to focus.

‘May I make you some tea, sir?’ the maid asked.

‘No thanks. You may do your work.’ he rose with a mock smile.

‘Have the plants been watered?’ he asked the maid, smiling feebly.

‘Not yet.’ she answered.

He made his way to our little garden.

‘The breakfast is ready ma’am. May I serve?’ she asked me after a few moments.

‘Unh?’

‘Ma’am breakfast?’

‘Hunh.’

I entered the kitchen with no other reason than to avoid an eye contact with him.

As I sat in the dining hall, I saw him leaning over the basin washing the dust off his face and hands. I stole a look at him. My heart quivered in ecstasy. His unbuttoned shirt exposed an intense masculine web of hair at his chest.

I would often in my own stupidest, craziest way cuddle around him fondly when say; he stood in the washroom facing the mirror, applying shaving cream. He’d throw stolen glances at me enjoying the situation. Finding me too cognizant to proceed, he’d rotate at once and oops! My sari would be all smeared by the rich lather. He’d then leisurely yet overwhelmingly bury his face in the silky-smooth hair of mine…

Presently he came and took the opposite chair.

‘Nice aroma!’ I said, uncovering the casserole that contained aloo paranthas.

He however paid no notice. He looked and behaved like a brainteaser… impenetrable.

He sat silent, carefully fathoming my terminology.

His life as if depended upon my decision!

His eyes glistened with moisture.

‘Well, if that be your ultimate choice, I set you free to do whatever you wish.’ he mulled over each of his words.

His voice scratched the stillness again.

‘To be very honest your moving out of the house doesn’t exasperate me. My trust upon the one I fought the world for, still rests as firm as a rock. It’s just for the sake of our little ones that I want you to stay home.’ he said with a lump in throat.

I had sobered down yet couldn’t put in plain words why I felt the urge to do something.

The air tightened as if.

The breakfast lay untouched.

Didn’t I nurse my kids with the earnest devotion of a mother?

Did I amiss somewhere as a mother, wife or daughter in law?

Why then this blurred screen of misapprehension blocked our otherwise so clear a vision?

It was simply unworkable for me to overlook the words he darted like a lance at me the previous night…

. . .

‘If you think you can’t be happy with me any longer, you are free to move out.’

I was stabbed!!!

‘You say so because I’m asking for my piece of contentment in life?’ I was frustrated.

‘Means our happiness lies not in each other but in different directions?’ he retorted.

‘If it’s acceptable that you dream of being a renowned businessman, why can’t I nurture the hope to be recognized by the gift I have… ?’

‘You see I’m in no mood to dispute. If you think our kids are self-regulating enough, you may leave your maternal cares to realize yourself.’ he snapped his forefinger for better effect.

‘I can do so only if you back me up. It won’t be that hard Jaan!’ I was in fact stung by his blocking outlook to more intimate communication whenever it came to what I dreamt.

‘That’s what you think.’ he ignored the tears in my eyes.

‘Why can’t we think the same way the way we used to?’ I frantically asked.

‘I would like to ask you the same question. Don’t I earn more than enough to satisfy your needs? Why then this restlessness to move out of doors?’ annoyance settled between his brows.

‘It’s not just to earn but to ripen my talents! I feel an impulse to be recognized in the literary world. Do you care to appreciate?’ I swallowed panic in my throat.

‘I simply am unable to cope up with your point of view.’ he answered with a dismissive shrug.

‘That’s because your male ego doesn’t bother to.’ I bitterly added.

‘What else do you demand darling? You always yearned to be in my arms! The outside world mesmerizes you today; tomorrow you may be fed up of my love and seek for newer… Oh-h! Leave it… !’

Tears welled in the green eyes I loved so much.

‘Aditya! For God’s sake!’ I tried to grab his arm only to be rejected however.

‘Each male has ego problem. I may have mine too. I don’t claim to be the best husband in the world but neither am I the worst for sure. I’ve always tried my best to please you but… to admit the truth; I seem to have failed somewhere. Never mind. My self-esteem urges me not to beg of your love. Today I can’t think of living without you. Tomorrow however I may learn; even our kids may. Who knows the features of tomorrow?’ he headed towards the window.

I chased his steps inadvertently.

‘You may win their faith by bringing in petty gifts and all. They don’t actually know what they’re losing in lieu of those.’ he sensed my presence behind him.

Today he emerged as the defender of kids’ safekeeping who otherwise didn’t know what they were taught in the school… when did their exams begin and when did they end!

‘We have maids who can look after them for the time being, can’t they? It’s a question only of two-three hours at most!’ I pleaded.

‘And have them learn their dialect too, right? Can these illiterate ones give our kids the education, the etiquette, the cultured brain a mother can? They can’t and dear, you can’t deny the fact. Can you?’ he inhaled a deep breath to restore his mental equilibrium.

‘How am I supposed to keep them happy when I actually am not? I feel I am more or less the ring master disciplining them with my rod of say-so. That’s what I feel myself to be!’ I said embittered, turning my gaze away.

‘During these couple of months their performance in the school must’ve suffered. It’s not the employee alone who needs to be satisfied but the employer too. You’re expected to give your best there too; aren’t you?’ he sent me a defiant stare.

‘I would have tried my best if only YOU had not grown so twitchy!’ I said with a tart edge to my voice. ‘I always made up for my absence by showering more care and love over our kids than I as a frustrated housewife could ever have.’

‘You can’t be a Super Woman everywhere, right?’ he cut me off savagely.

‘I used to be self-assured of my potentials till yesterday. Today however I’m not sure…’ a certain pain sliced through my frail feminine self… the pain of frustrated dreams, the pain of loss, the pain of despondency, the pain not to be understood.

‘Decide whether you have to be a mother or a dreamer, once and for all.’ my bitterness passed on to his lips.

He sounded so standoffish!

‘It isn’t we who choose the dreams; the dreams rather choose us!’ I screamed in pain as never before.

I wished I could put the dilemma in words!

‘I just fail to understand what am I educating my daughter for?’ I was utterly exhausted physically, mentally.

‘I have no answer. You promised not to desert me. Didn’t you?’ he questioned in a voice loaded with impulse.

‘Who the fool says, I do???’ I desperately asked.

He didn’t respond.

I knew I was giving him stress more than he could stand.

But so was he!

‘This is disgusting! Am I deserting my home, my family and my kids merely because I’m trying to find myself? Don’t you work hard to make a space in the world you live? Don’t you move out of my arms each morning to follow your dream? H ave I ever mistrusted you? Sweetheart! I never have because I love you that much. Damn it!!!’

I really had invested my entire self in the relationship. So entirely entire that there was no space left for my own dreams as a person.

I pressed the corners of my head for it seemed to be at the verge of bursting.

‘You have worked as a professor for a couple of months only. Your strong advocacy for the job and the loyalties thereof, are simply amazing! Even a numskull would smell something fishy.’ he was inadvertently making things worse.

‘Eh?’ he was getting so unreasonable!

‘My dad did wrong. He taught me to dream.’ I murmured chewing the cud of nostalgia.

‘I never professed to be modern enough to have my wife working with so many males around and even bossing them… . did I? I am not up-to-the-minute enough to be attuned to the concepts like corporate culture and things like those.’ his expressions faltered for a while but he continued, ‘I am sorry I might sound too possessive a husband to be adjusted with but… so I am!’

I wasn’t quite sure of the tone we talked in the first time during these ten years.

‘Is this my fault to be a female? Do you think I am one of those women who assert their charms to get what they hunger after? I hate to be accepted as a female only. I am not just a physique but an intellect too.’ I bit my bottom lip in despair.

I wished he understood.

I was sure he did.

How could he talk to me like that?

How could I?

Our son, a sweet and intelligent boy of nine, woke up by the heat of the words. He wasn’t habituated to hear his parents arguing like this. He got a bit doubtful of the security blanket our mutual faith had provided him till date.

His face betrayed his feelings.

I immediately drew near to him.

‘What happened, Mom?’ he clasped to my bosom, half asleep.

‘Nothing!’ I said and patted him back to sleep.

Both of us realized the mistake and crawled into bed on either side of the kids.

I cried silently for long.

None seemed to care.

Males always thought that the crying fest will be over and the frail ‘she’ would be restored to her normal duties as a wife and a mother very soon.

*     *     *

The Heat Continued…

I woke up behind schedule. Kids had been sent to school by Aditya. I got troubled to see the clock. It was too late. I looked into the mirror. My eyes told the story of a restless night.

I took out a face wipe from the drawer.

No way better.

‘So, here we are! The coffee’s ready. Tang-tadang!’ he shrugged his shoulder against mine.

I didn’t react.

I entered the washroom.

He patiently waited.

Coffee remained untouched.

‘Sit.’ he pressed my shoulders warmly and sat me on the edge of the bed.

‘Please face me eye to eye.’ he said.

I was disinclined.

‘C’mon Mansi!’ he held my cheeks and looked straight in my eyes.

‘Am I that bad?’ he affectionately asked as though talking to a child.

‘You can’t ever be. Men never are.’ I said avoiding his eyes.

‘Shhh…’

He roofed my lips with his fingers; his own lips quivering with intense desire.

He kissed me overpoweringly all over my face wetting my lips and eyes. It seemed as though he loved me the last time!

‘Aditya, please… I don’t feel like…’

‘. . . don’t feel like… loving me?’

‘I didn’t say so.’

‘The way you’re trying to stay away from my touch, what am I to infer?’ he asked lifting my chin with a finger.

‘And the way you are treating someone you say you love the best, what’s to be gathered? You don’t trust me anymore. Isn’t it so?’ I asked, swiping at my damp eyes with the back of my hands.

‘Baby! My poor baby! It’s not like that.’ he cuddled me.

‘Leave me. Your conduct proves the otherwise.’ I gently held his hands to bring them off my cheeks.

We never snubbed each other even in a situation like that.

Why then we stood as strangers trying to guess what the other had to say?

‘Mansi, you don’t understand. What you accuse me of isn’t true. I don’t suspect your intentions. I suffer from insecurity damn it! Oh… h! I wish I could explain my situation.’ he made a fidgety gesture of hands.

‘I simply fail to appreciate.’ I struggled for breath.

‘Listen. Just come close to me; won’t you?’ he pulled my arm and made me stand in front of him, his voice wet with emotion and warmth.

‘You are a good looking, endowed woman with an irresistible charm of manners and delicacy. Anybody may get easily attracted towards you. Moreover it is the ambiance you love! You love the intellectual world…’ he said kissing my hand.

‘If you understand that much…’ I sobbed in aggravation.

‘See, I’m scared I might be an over and done dream then. I would die if I’m!!’ he gasped.

‘We were to live together forever; right?’ he resumed.

I never knew he could express himself so well!

‘M.a.n.s.i… the world outside this beautiful home is not as first-rate as you think of it. I don’t want you to fall a prey to the avarice of those who will cash in on your innocence. I know you are appreciated at work; for sure you will be but then what about me? Frankly telling I am not able to focus upon my work, my dealers, my factory, anything!!! It’s you who covers the maximum of my mind. Sometimes I don’t even realize I’m driving! I wonder how am I able to reach my work place without hitting someone or hurting myself!’

He rubbed his cheeks against my tummy failing in an effort to hide his moistened eyes.

‘Why reacting this way? Have you lost all faith you had in me?’ I cupped his chin to make him face me.

‘I’ve suffered a lot for the sake of our love. It’s the biggest treasure of mine on earth! Believe me it is! How can you hurt me like this?’ the air from the open window was blowing in cool gusts over me. A few strands of my hair fell over my face.

‘Jaan, I don’t want to be a butt of mockery. What if you sense someday you made a mistake? As far as I can recall I never hid the fact that I wasn’t as learned as you might’ve thought. I don’t say that you ever made me feel like that. You in fact gave me more than I deserved.’ he blew soft breaths on my wisps still lost somewhere.

‘I don’t want to lose you. Don’t you understand this straightforward fact? I can’t simply afford to… !’ he struggled hard to hold back his tears.

I was sure he didn’t mean to exploit my emotions. His feelings were as unadulterated as my love for him.

I was dumb with emotion at this attractively dramatic revelation.

Was I not fortunate to have a life partner like him?

Should his love not be preferred to anything priceless in the world?

When did heart and mind go hand in hand however?

‘I must reconsider.’ my heart resolved.

‘Nonsense!’ my mind cautioned.

‘Don’t please go by my eyes. Do what pleases you the most. I’ll wait for your answer.’ Aditya said feebly.

He was so decent a fellow that he knew not where to go in a mood like this. He didn’t have many friends. If he had, they were all official ones. He walked out of the room and switched on the TV.

His fingers scrolled through the buttons zeroing on a blank screen.

He switched it off.

My mind went on working, not pitying him.

Very much the ‘he’ stuff indeed!

‘He’ would do anything to bring ‘her’ back to the four walls of home.

If ‘she’ aspired to prove herself and leave a mark behind, it necessarily meant she was going astray.

He left for the office after a while. I needed not pretend any more that the household work demanded my personal attention. I was left with my distressed soul once more.

I probed the depth of the mirror again.

I was no more the submissive and flimsy girl who couldn’t look in the eyes of her own father when he boiled in wrath over trifles. I had undergone a terrific change. The nuptial bond with Aditya had not only raised my societal rank but also enhanced my self-belief. Now I could face the world with greater poise and was not to be intimidated by anything wrong.

To pacify my soul, I turned on music. The cassettes had not been in use for long. I dusted out one of those. Luckily it was the one I had got the best favorite songs of mine recorded in.

I had gifted this to him on his birthday.

I kissed it reverently. A wave of ardor rose in my grief laden eyes. It was like an old friend met by chance!

The past in retrospect!

How poignant!

*     *     *

Reminiscences…

The number that played, used to be one of my favorites-

‘Teri ankhon ke siva duniyan mein rakha kya hai’

Without almost knowing my eyes got moistened. I wept silently, lost in the memories of the days when I would crave to have a glimpse of Aditya at any rate…

. . .

. . .

. . .

I didn’t believe in destiny much and carried rather an antagonistic view of God who had snatched the greatly loved brother of mine in the prime of his youth. It was the mishap that had traumatized our trust in any benevolent power said to reside in the uppermost skies.

Moreover I had seen the ruinous married life of my elder sister which made me almost a non-believer in anything good awaiting me.

Aditya’s arrival in my insipid, uneventful life was purely co-incidental strengthening my conviction—love just happens and that miracles do happen in real life too.

A smile played upon my lips as I recollected how I got in touch with Aditya the first time…

. . .

. . .

. . .

Our neighbors next door were pretty friendly with us. I would spend evenings there as a daily pilgrimage. It was a Jain family. I was menstruating so I wasn’t allowed in kitchen at least for three days. I was killing time with their kids—Rubal and Mini, in the room, their mother being busy in the kitchen work. Reclining on my elbows on the bed and munching a Monaco biscuit, I wondered if we could’ve some fun.

The kids suggested me a number of pranks.

I gave in to the stupidest one finally and dialed a random number not knowing of-course that the ‘random’ number was going to be the permanent ‘right’ number in my life.

The momentous evening literally changed my entire life!

‘Brrr… brrr’ the bell went.

‘Hello! Who’s it?’ the voice demanded.

‘Well it’s me! Don’t you recognize my voice?’ I winked at kids.

‘Sasha? See I’m busy right now. No time for kidding. Talk later.’ he cut me short.

‘Don’t pretend being busy or whatever. You actually don’t care! And by the way who Sasha is?’ my tone touched at a higher note.

Unable to recognize the female voice but amused at the closeness of the tone, the person on the other end startled me by asking how I was and how come that I remembered him after ages.

I was a bit mystified as the tables turned.

Not sure what to say, I disconnected.

I dialed the number again after a few days to dig up more joy out of my otherwise, lackluster life.

‘Hello! May I know who am I talking to’? I promptly asked.

‘It’s Aditya. Err… ’?

So, he was Aditya.

‘Look Aditya, this is not fair…’

He grew restless. It’s being his peak business hour he couldn’t drag the empty conversation far.

The more he thought about the voice at leisure, the twitchier he got. The voice seemed so welcoming! Who could be that to eat into his mental calm and leave him fidgety? He felt quite distracted. Sleep refused to oblige him. He kept tossing in bed.

Not getting any whereabouts of the girl he was distraught. He tried to elude the thought which nevertheless kept chasing him.

Early morning, back to the office, his heart ached for the call from the unspecified number. It was in the evening again that the long expected call was there.

‘Hi! Recognize me; no?’

In no mood to be distracted further, he demanded me to unveil who I was or not to perturb him any further.

I was flabbergasted.

Even I had used up many laid-back hours fancying how he looked, who he was, should I step ahead or…

I was scared stiff lest my father should come to know about this latest pastime of mine…

‘I… look, I can’t tell you right now. I swear I’ll reveal myself tomorrow or wouldn’t bother you again.’ I blurted out in jumpiness.

. . .

I kept wagging with my heart when my friend Neha dropped in.

‘Wassup Mansi? Hey! Why pulling a long face? Is anything worrying you?’ she marched into my already apprehensive mind with a volley of questions.

‘No! There isn’t anything like that. Well; a.c.t.u.a.l.l.y I’m in a fix. You know my family atmosphere. I made a random call to someone I wasn’t least familiar with.’

‘Whoa! How romantic! Making random phone calls to someone and… then… perhaps… ah! Let me think… well, yes! The guy challenging to be seriously forthcoming and then… the most foreseeable nerve-racking love affair! How very romantic yaar! I’m having goose bumps, see na!’ she exposed her arms.

‘Go away. Just now! I don’t wanna see you.’ I stormed.

‘Okay… fine! Since when did you start essentially materializing your stupppid dreams in real life?’ she was damn excited without knowing either the head or the tail of the matter.

‘He wishes me to reveal myself or not to disturb him in future.’ I laid my mind bare.

‘If the guy says so, it surely means he isn’t the sort of a guy willing to idle away his time in flirtation. I think he certainly deserves at least one meeting with the typical day dreamer called M.a.n.s.i.’ she answered without shillyshallying as a Love Guru.

Having poured some stupidest advices into my ears, she left.

Teenagers have their weird reasons for building castles in the air. It’s the phase of life when family relations fail to provide the stimulation their minds hunt for and they’re absolutely keyed up at the prospect of coming across something wrapped in dark.

I was ablaze with the longing to see the