Just Missed

By Himanshu Bhatia

Siddharth aka Mr. Perfectionist is married to his job. Relentlessly toiling for the promotion he wants, he doesn' t have time for anything, even a girlfriend. Naturally, marriage is the last thing on his mind . . . but not for his parents, who have plans of their own. Enter Shreya, the girl-next-door. One meeting and Mr. Perfectionist is instantly besotted— he even begins to dream about marrying her. During coffee meetings and long drives, Siddharth comes to know that a boy has entered Shreya' s life— an IIT graduate named Shivam Malhotra she met on her flight to Bangkok. Shivam is a flirt, a Casanova, and the type of guy Shreya abhors. But there is more to Shivam than meets the eye. And Shreya, despite herself, finds herself hating him less and less every day . . . The wedding is approaching. What will happen with this trio?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Fingerprint Publishing
• Release date: Jul 1, 2020
• ISBN: 9789390391172

Book preview

Prologue

I landed in Mumbai and rushed to the Nanavati Hospital. As I entered, I saw her talking to the doctor. He had been in the ICU for the past twenty-four hours, fighting for his life. I could sense her nerves were on edge.

I walked towards her. Our eyes met. While my heart wanted me to reach out and embrace her, my mind quickly reasoned and I stood still.

‘I know you have many questions for me,’ she said, ‘and I will answer them all. Come with me.’ She held my hand and took me to the cafeteria.

‘Just wait here for two minutes. I will be back,’ she said and left. In those two minutes, several questions that I wanted to ask her and the answers she would give flashed through my mind.

She came back with an iPad and handed it to me. ‘Sid, please do me a favour. This is his diary. I want you to read it.’

‘I’m not here to read anyone’s diary. I’m here to speak to you!’ I said, getting impatient. She could gauge the emotions in my voice.

‘I know . . . But right now, my answers won’t be enough. You won’t understand. So, for my sake, please read this,’ she said, almost pleading. I couldn’t refuse.

In the hospital cafeteria, as I sat in one corner reading his diary, I did not realize when hours passed by and the day turned to night.

In those few hours, the diary had not just brought me close to this person but had left his soul bare for me to peep into.

I knew he will recover, to complete our story . . . the story of Sid, Shreya, and Shivam.

1

My Life, My Way

October 2015

‘Sid, we are planning to go to Hauz Khas Village after work for drinks and dinner. Wanna join?’ Ishaan asked, already relishing the Friday fever at 5 p.m.

‘Not today,’ I replied, my voice firm, completely engrossed in the complex sales projection graphs on my laptop screen.

‘Come on, dude! They won’t make you the CEO directly. At max, they might promote you to the VP level! These PPTs are not the end of life,’ he said in a single breath. It was his favourite Friday-evening monologue. I chose to ignore him completely.

Ishaan was my batchmate from ISB Hyderabad, and we now worked together at Axis Bank. He was one of my good buddies and never missed a chance to pull my leg for being overambitious.

‘Sid, I am talking to you. At least look at me!’ he said a little loudly, sounding exasperated.

I kept staring at my laptop screen, which irritated him even further. He picked up the desk calendar from my table and hit it on my head so hard that the sound echoed in the quiet office.

Finally, after punching in a few more figures, I looked up at him with fabricated anger and said, ‘I would have looked at you if you were a pretty girl.’ His anger mellowed a bit and his eyes lit up. I couldn’t let the opportunity go. ‘See, I need to finish this presentation deck before I leave the office tonight, so don’t waste my time. And for god’s sake, please do something about your convincing skills. Remember innovation?’ I drew quotes in the air with my hands, making Ishaan roll his eyes.

‘How stale you are, Sid! The same principled Siddharth Gupta I met at the registration desk at ISB. It’s been ages, but you haven’t changed a bit!’ he declared before he left for his workstation, disappointed.

Lest you think I was a big bore, let me clarify that I was not against partying or having a good time with friends. I was just particular about finishing my work on time. Some people did feel that I was a bookish nerd, but I wasn’t. I was rather a smart thinker—managing time to accommodate everything that a young man wanted to do in life. I had always followed what I called the D2S2 approach, i.e. Dedicated, Distinctive, Smart, and Strategic approach. Call it my stubbornness or my hunger for perfection, I had followed this approach since my formative years in DPS RK Puram to St. Stephen’s College, and then at ISB. In fact, it was owing to this that I could now flaunt the designation of Assistant Vice President (AVP) at the age of twenty-six.

It was never in me to follow people blindly; I preferred to pave my own way. It was for the same reason that I had sacrificed admission offers from IIT Roorkee and IIM Lucknow to be able to earn two degrees in four years instead of six. After all, time is money!

My workstation clock had just beeped the mini alarm at 8 p.m. when Mr. Ishaan Mittal arrived again.

‘I am asking for the last time, Sid. Are you coming with us?’ His never-say-die attitude was something to die for, honestly.

‘No, dude, you carry on! Say my hello to Nishitha,’ I replied.

Nishitha Nair was not just the beautiful Mallu girl from Bangalore in our section at ISB, but she was also the one who had kept our long, unending classes interesting with her wit and humour. Ishaan had got lucky when she had accepted his year-long pending proposal on the convocation day at ISB. They had been together ever since.

‘Huh! Drown in this shitty work to woo your boss. I’ll wait for the day when you have a girlfriend. It’ll be so rewarding to see you being pulled out of office forcefully. Oh, and not just on Fridays, but on all weekdays,’ he said with an evil glint in his eyes.

I smiled at his histrionics, sure that he wasn’t done yet. He wasn’t! ‘Oh, I am so sorry. How can I forget that you don’t want a girlfriend! Then let’s wait for the day your parents get you married to someone,’ he continued.

‘How hopeful you are of my plight, man! Relax, my parents are not bothered about my marriage. Not yet, at least. What you wish for is still a few years away.’

He made a face and I laughed, teasing him yet again. ‘Why don’t you pay attention to Nishitha and ignore the absence of the great Siddharth Gupta in the clubs of Delhi?’

‘Okay, the great loser! As you say.’ He turned around to leave, but stopped and looked back at me, warning, ‘But you better leave before ten, or Aunty will screw me!’

He reminded me how my dearest mom had made connections in the office of her own accord to ensure that she saw me home on time each day. Ishaan went off, leaving me looking at the family photo next to my laptop on my workstation. I saw four smiling faces—Nandini, Mom, Dad, and of course, me. Every night when I reached home late, my mother was there to open the door with a big smile. She served hot food with a loving smile. She would have definitely made huge money as a chef, but she chose to straighten up the bratty kids at Delhi University as a professor instead. My sister, Nandini, another scholar in our house, had done her engineering degree in Computer Science from IIT Bombay before she joined a software firm in Gurgaon. And last, but not the least, my dad. He was as strict and serious at home as he was in his office as an assistant general manager, finance.

While my parents had always been satisfied and content in life with their pay cheques provided by the Government of India, I was the unsatisfied soul who always wanted to drive Audis and stay in the Taj and the Leela. I always wanted to own a big penthouse with a Jacuzzi, personal theatre, and all personal, luxurious amenities that only the Tatas and Ambanis could afford. That was exactly what I was working so hard to achieve!

Little did I know, I was about to hit pause on those dreams.

2

Matrimonial Quake

November 2015

‘Sid, please reach Sikanderpur market by 6:30 p.m. I know you will have very important deliverables in office, but you know how particular I am about these things. Just give me a call when you leave,’ Mom commanded.

It was three o’clock and this was the third time she had called. After all, it was the family Dhanteras shopping time. Dhanteras is a festival celebrated by Hindus two days before Diwali. There is a tradition of shopping for metallic items on this auspicious day, which my family followed religiously. Although I was not very religious myself, I always accompanied my family for their happiness. But this time around, I had a different plan.

‘Mom, I’m leaving from here. Please meet me outside the Honda showroom at MG Road first. I want to test drive the Honda City,’ I requested her over the phone at around 6 p.m. My family had started from home. Mom knew of my love for cars and didn’t object. Since Mom had agreed, Dad and Nandini had to comply. They arrived at the showroom in half an hour, just around the time Ishaan and I reached.

Dad was walking around the new Honda City kept in the showroom, examining it from all sides and angles.

‘What about this one?’ I asked Dad, pointing towards a CR-V stationed at the front of the showroom, all jazzed-up to be delivered.

‘Hmm, it’s really nice, Sid. But it’s quite expensive,’ he replied in his typical serious tone. That’s the thing with fathers; they keep saving—first for their parents, then for their children, and finally for their old age, but refuse to indulge themselves.

‘Dad, I can’t see you driving a ten-year-old car. I think I should gift you a new one,’ I said confidently with a smile.

He looked at me, perturbed. ‘Sid! First thing is that I don’t need a new car. I am very happy with my WagonR. And the second thing, you must never ever think of buying such an expensive gift for me.’ This was so like him.

‘I am really sorry, Dad.’

His expression changed as he had heaved a sigh of relief.

‘Dad, maybe I will follow your principles the next time. As of now, I have already paid for this CR-V.’

I heard Nandini squeal in delight and looked at Dad again. ‘It’s yours, Dad!’ I announced, unable to contain the excitement in my voice as I held out the keys to him.

‘Sid!’ That was all he could utter. I could see his eyes well up as he came forward to hug me—a tight hug. Nandini and Mom also came close and all of us hugged and celebrated the moment.

‘Sid, I am so proud of you,’ Mom said with tears of happiness in her eyes.

‘Oh my god, Sid! You didn’t even tell me,’ Nandini hugged me again, overwhelmed. ‘I didn’t even realize when my little bro grew up so much!’ She patted me on my back.

‘Ishaan, come here!’ I got him into the family hug. ‘The credit for helping in the booking process goes to you,’ I said and thanked him with a soft punch and hug.

We got the customary picture clicked as the showroom representative handed over the big key to Dad. We then settled into the new car and proceeded towards the temple. No car had entered our house before a visit to the temple to thank the almighty for his blessings.

The celebrations didn’t end there. It was my birthday the very next day. So after a quick tea session at home, with snacks and a few pastries that we had picked up on our way home, Nandini, Ishaan, and I left in our brand new car for India Gate. We picked up Nishitha from her house at Saket on the way. She and Nandini had come to know each other well over time, since Ishaan and I hung out together quite a lot. Nishitha hugged Nandini and that’s when I saw my birthday cake in her hands.

She handed over the cake to Nandini, hugged me, and said, ‘Congo, Sid! I always thought you are super ambitious, but today you proved to be a notch above. You are an ideal son.’ Nishitha was ecstatically checking out the car. ‘Uncle and Aunty must be so happy.’

‘Thanks a lot, Miss Nishitha Nair. Oh yes, they are! Now sit with your super-cool boyfriend on the back seat and enjoy the ride,’ I said and got back to the driver’s seat.

We drove a lot, from Saket to Vasant Kunj to Hauz Khas, and finally reached India Gate. As Diwali was just around the corner, India Gate was lit up and was a sight to behold. I wanted to enjoy the new car as much as I could so we took two rounds of the India Gate and then parked on the roadside. For the first time in my life, I cut my birthday cake on the hood of a car. Everything was at its utmost best—the delectable cake, the good company, the awesome weather, and our brand new car parked on the roadside.

It felt like the best and most eventful beginning to my birthday. I had fulfilled a long-dreamt wish and was very happy. If only I had known what was in store for me the next day, I would have thought otherwise. Definitely!

My birthday and our family’s new prized possession were grand enough reasons to be celebrated with a sumptuous treat. I had made the booking for dinner at ITC Maurya’s famous restaurant, Bukhara, two weeks in advance. It was our first visit to this restaurant and the dishes to be ordered had been decided beforehand by Nandini while we were on our way.

All excited, we reached the restaurant. Nandini placed the order and the usual chit-chat began. It didn’t take them very long to serve our dinner. The enticing aroma of spices only increased our hunger. I was enjoying the heavenly Dal Bukhara, the speciality of the coveted restaurant, when Dad initiated the most unexpected and undesired conversation.

‘Sid! You have turned twenty-seven today. And what you did yesterday shows you have matured enough to understand the needs of others without their saying it. You have become more caring.’

‘Thanks, Dad,’ I said with a big smile.

‘Actually, we wanted to talk to you about something. Your mom and I have been thinking about it for long . . .’ He cleared his throat and continued, ‘And this appears to be the perfect day.’ He paused, as if to observe my reaction. I wasn’t able to anticipate what he was going to say.

‘We think it’s time for you to get married!’ He dropped the bomb, ever so casually.

‘Sid, we think it’s the right time we start looking for a girl who can sit next to you in the front seat of our new CR-V,’ Mom reiterated Dad’s words.

With three sets of eyes on me, I laughed awkwardly and said, ‘You guys are just playing with me. You aren’t serious, right?’ Although Mom and Dad were looking very serious, I still hoped for fortune to be in my favour.

‘No, Sid! We are serious. And you also better get serious about this,’ they confirmed.

I was quaked, matrimonially. Nandini patted on my back with pity in her eyes, but her effort to control her laughter was quite apparent.

‘Dad, this is so sudden. Please give me some time!’

Their eyebrows shot up, probing me.

‘I want to settle in my career first. Then I will marry for sure. I have planned to do a lot in the next few months. I don’t think this is the right time to take my concentration off it and start looking for a match. I don’t want to divert my time and attention right now. Please give me some more time,’ I pleaded.

Nandini had always been my most trusted advocate against my parents. But this time, I didn’t understand why she was quiet.

‘Sid beta, you are already settled,’ Mom said.

Unfortunately, she was right, and that wasn’t in my favour at all.

‘Mom, at least let me move to the VP level,’ I said, trying to make my case stronger.

When she still looked unconvinced, I played my ace card. ‘You should think of getting Nandini married first. I have just turned twenty-seven while she is almost twenty-nine!’

Nandini’s mouth flew open and she looked at me as if she’d kill me. Dad rolled his eyes and said, ‘Sid, I am not listening to you. I know your greed for the next level would never be fulfilled.’

My face must have told him I wasn’t convinced, because he quickly added, ‘And since Nandini is planning to pursue an MBA for a year, we should get you married in the meantime.’

‘Look, Sid, the way I see it is simple. You and Nandini have studied well and are well-settled in your respective professions. We are proud of you. We have tried our best in bringing you up and now your marriages are our biggest responsibilities. Please let us get away with half of it at least! We also want to have an extended family now,’ Mom completed their joint argument, talking casually, as if it was a matter of buying fruits and vegetables.

‘Wow, you guys have a wonderful logic to get me married,’ I said, still trying to relish the flavour of the dal that had seemed so delicious just a few moments ago. I seemed to have suddenly lost my appetite.

I continued requesting and arguing further, but my arguments and words were all in vain. In India, it’s impossible to deal with the emotional blackmailing of parents, and I had to give in—even if it was just to let the topic be changed so I could enjoy my meal.

I gifted Dad an SUV, and he asked for my bachelorhood as a return gift! What injustice!

Once we were home, I locked myself in my room and lay straight on the bed. Winters were knocking the NCR region, but I was sweating inside out. I craved to speak my heart out to someone. Nandini was busy helping Mom with the Diwali preparations, so I had no option but to call Ishaan. Instead of showing any sympathy towards me, he laughed his heart out at the whole ordeal.

‘Haha, it seems you’ve been so busy trying to become the VP that you have not paid attention to what your parents think or say. Just last month you told me that your parents are not bothered about your marriage. It looks like god has heard your wish!’

‘Shut up, Ishaan! I am screwed . . . big time. Please do something! I don’t want to marry right now.’

‘Why not, dude? Even Nishitha and I are planning to get married soon. Your parents are right. It’s the right time for you to get hitched,’ he chuckled, clearly enjoying my plight.

‘Dude, you and Nishitha love each other. I don’t have a girlfriend. I am not ready for marriage, as in an arranged marriage. And you know how difficult it is to find a good girlfriend, especially for someone like me who’d prefer boardrooms to cinema halls or restaurants.’

Ishaan tried to counsel me on how marriage was a gift. He spent almost half an hour making me count the pros, but ultimately lost the battle. I was still not convinced.

Exhausted, I bid him goodbye and hung up. Just then Nandini knocked on the door. I got up and let her in. She sat on the bed, still trying to control her laughter.

‘Nandini, look at you! You are still laughing. How can you be so mean?’ I said. But her expressions somehow made me smile a bit.

‘Come here, my bro!’ She gestured to me to lie down on the bed. I rested my head on her lap and she started caressing my hair. Nandini was my rock-solid pillar of support. She gave me all the gyan that she could to calm my nerves and explain my parents’ sudden fixation with my marriage. We discussed all the dimensions of marriage, from age to compatibility and whatnot.

I had always known that Mom and Dad would bring this up in a few years. But most definitely, I hadn’t wanted or expected the day to come so soon. Well, it wasn’t

Reviews for Just Missed

[swapnaperi · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Book Title: Just Missed
Author: Himanshu Bhatia
Format: Paper Back
Total Number of Pages: 232
Publisher: PETALS PUBLISHERS
Publishing Year: 2017
Printed Price: INR 160
ISBN-10: 9385440438
ISBN-13: 978-9385440434

Book Title:
The title of the book ' Just Missed' gives a rough idea that the book is going to be story of emotions.

Book Cover :
A book cover image is a simple real life photograph. There is nothing much to talk about the image.

Plot:
Every person in this universe falls in love with someone or something and that's an universal fact. But not all stories have a great ending or a superb start. And when the story is between three individuals who are successful at their own professions and interests, makes the story more exciting.

Though few scenes are inspired from the movies, the story flow makes those also interesting to read.
A well written story.

Characters:
The characters in the story are nicely plotted.

Narration:
The narration is very simple and nice.

Language and Vocabulary:
Simple language and grammar was used.

My Final Verdict—
A good story is the soul of a good book . The author has given his readers a good story. A good read.
Book title: 4/5
Book Cover: 3/5
Plot: 3.5/5
Characters: 3.5/5
Narration: 3.5/5
Language and Vocabulary: 4/5
I personally rate the book 3 out of 5