It was a really good assignment as Raj stepped out off the gangway.
And as he held his baggage outside for immigration and customs clearance he saw his brother Vaibhav’s msg ping on his messenger.
“Bhai, mom has a girl in mind for you.”
That is how a person is supposed to spend his well earned leave.
Pooja had a birthday on 7th of April that was the day when I had heard her name for the first time.
“Shall we add Meera on the group?” she asked everyone at the table.
We as boys did not mind any new girl on the group.
We had a nice time.I had to leave for Chandigarh for my courses the other day.
As I came up to the city beautiful. A little bridge of small thoughts had formed between Meera and me.
I had never expected it would be such a great weekend.A small greet had transformed into a chapter.
Meera was a practicing doctor.
I liked the girl at her first greet. The small chat had led way to the “getting-to-know-you” questions.
I was impressed but less did I know about Meera’s side.
Her messages had again made life a little more interesting. I everyday had a new talk.
We smiled at, waved through the timings that passed by. The air was a little different.
Even the omellets I made for breakfast had a moment.
We were on the verge of falling for each other that the societal norms came in.
It had just been a week that Meera had showed any visible clue of you know other-than-friends.
Today,she had not messaged me anyhow. Like a hourglass I kept tossing my phone,checking my messages on the web.
Finally, as the whole day turned into night and the night turned to midnight a message popped on my phone.
“Am I just a friend to you?” asked Meera.
I was taken aback.
I looked at the time and wondered. A few hours ago I was watching the “Pirates of the Caribbean Salazar’s revenge!”.
I did not answer the question. And as the blue tick reached her she sent another text.
The whole time stood still while she said,” I just regard you as a friend”.
“Friend-zoned Bro”,shouted the crazy Happy sailor in me.
“What were you thinking about bro? ” the happy sailor asked.
Meera was getting married.
She was to see a boy tomorrow morning with her family.
She had jovially messaged, “Can a Maratha boy elope with a Hatkar?”.
I dared not to call her. I thought we had sometime. There was nothing to say.
Societal norms were at stake. The individuals did not matter. It mattered that a certain caste gets in certain caste only. Afterall,we all were Indians.
I wish we all here were not such hypocrites.