Khushi
Three weeks later. I was in my
office, just like on any other weekday. I was checking our the photos
that MP had shot of us all, during the reunion trip. He emailed them
to us and while I was looking at them, in my Yahoo! inbox, I noticed
an ad flashing in the top-left corner.
It was an ad for a matrimonial site - Shaadi.com - with a beautiful
girl, smiling and looking for her perfect match.
Recalling our reunion discussion, I clicked the hyperlink on this ad,
which took me to the website. With the default filters enabled, I clicked
the search button and, in no time, I was on the result page with many
feminine picks. Wow! Some among them were damn pretty, and I
wanted to check them all out. But before I could visit the 6th one, I was
prompted to register at the website, without which I couldn't browse
through more profiles. The trailer was over and to watch the whole
movie you had to register yourself.
“I didn’t have much work that day, 50 I thought I’d register myself
and create my profile on the site.” This is what I kept saying to Happy,
Amardeep and MP Whereas, it was actually the other way round. Those
pretty faces on the results page forced me to make time in my hectic
2
schedule - which involved project delivery to a client, the very next
day.
Someone rightly said, “Three things - wealth, women and...” (I always
forget the third one) . can make anything happen in this world.”
So, finally, my profile was on the website. I uploaded a nice
photograph and unchecked any check box which asked to hide my
whereabouts from girls who might be searching for me. 1 did not forget
to mention my professional trips to the US and Europe either. After
an hour or so, 1 was all set to check out those pretty faces again. I set
my filters to check out all the Punjabi girls on the website and hit the
“search” button.The results page displayed some 3 digit number - the total number
of profiles that matched my search criteria. This was exciting! But I
could only check out some fifty of them before my eyes grew tired.
Still, among those fifty or so. there were a few whom I wanted to
contact. But before I could do so, there came a heartbreaking moment.
To talk to those pretty faces I had to make a payment to the site. There
is no such thing as a free lunch. Damn!
The only cost-free part was a way to express my interest in them by
clicking a button on their respective pages. This would send a message
from me co their inbox. But even if they gave me an affirmation to
interact, I still wouldn’t get their email ids unless I made the payment.
I checked the amount they were asking for.
“3000 bucks for the yearly plan! No way,” I said to myself. Then I
thought, “1 will only pay up if I happen to get good, affirmative responses
from those beauties.” Till then, whenever I felt like it, I could ping any
girl on the website to show my interest in her profile.
This was the beginning of my experience with shaadi.com - at the
cost of my project delivery, which I almost screwed up.
3
Apart from Happy, Amardeep and MP, nobody else knew about my
profile on the site, not even my parents. Because telling them that I
was thinking of getting married meant stirring a hornets nest. The
moment they found out, they would bring inputs from their
acquaintances all over the planet - and, Jesus! How I hated that!
For (he next few days, I got responses to my requests. Every time I
opened my inbox there was this strange excitement. But, most of the
time, it didn’t last long. The best ones had declined me. In fact, most
of them had ignored me. Only a handful accepted my request but,
unfortunately, they didn't appear that good. "Ah! This website is good
for nothing. ” 1 told myself. As if I was James Bond and all girls in the
world would throw themselves at me, the moment I approached them.
And this is how Shaadi.com went from high-priority to the lowest-
priority. Time passed by and I visited the site once in two or three
weeks, clicking buttons on profiles that interested me, but without
much expectation. Some more girls declined me; some girls, I declined.
A few wanted to interact, but their education was not impressive. Some
called me up on my cell; to some 1 wrote a few SMSs. A couple of them
wanted me to move abroad but I was not game; some others, 1 could
not convince that India was a better place to live in.
During one of my shore, official trips to the US, 1 also happened to
buy the yearly plan for a girl who badly wanted to talk to me. Damn!
Out of the three things (wealth, women and...the last one which I
always forget) that could make anything happen in this world, the
second was already making me do things. The irony being that the
girl, whom I coughed up 3000 bucks for, never got in touch. I lost all
interest in the website.
4
Then, one evening. 1 received an SMS on my cell phone.
Hi I m Khushi I
received ur msgs
on my other cell can
u pis call me now
Thai was 20-July-2006 18:58:19. My cell phones inbox still shows
the date and time.
When I got this SMS, I was in a conference call with a client in the
US. I quickly recalled the name of the profile from which I had got an
acceptance the week before, along with the contact mobile number
and an email id. 1 wrote an SMS in reply:
M in mid of a conf call,
wll ring you in another
hlf n hr.
I lie very next minute, my cell flashed the arrival of a new message.
I too hv cmpltd my conf cal
few min bck. U complete urs and
1 can wait till then.
After finishing my call, I dialed her number bur only after I had quickly browsed through her profile.
"Hello!" said a beautiful voice from the other end.
“Hi! This is Ravin."
“And I am Khushi,” she said in a pleasing and confident voice.
" Yup, 1 learnt that in your SMS. Sorry I kept you waiting but I was
in the middle of an important conference call with a client."
5
No problem. Even 1 had some stuff to complete.”
Our conversation began formally but, in no time, it became quite
relaxed and informal when we found out some amusing things.
I learnt that you were born in the month of February, ] 982,” she said. "Yes. 4th February. Anything specific?” I wondered if I was supposed
to recall something from her profile. But the only thing I remembered, then, was that she looked beautiful in her picture.
You might have noticed that my year and month of birth are the
same.”
Oh yes! 22th February. I had seen that," I said, quickly rushing to
my computer and scrolling through her profile. And you were born
in Faridabad...”
“No. I was born in Kolkata. My dad was in the defense services and,
when I was born, he was posted in Kolkata and was staying there with
family.”
Really...? You won't believe this!” I shouted, attracting my co-
workers’ attention.
“What?”
You guess! I said, heading towards the staircase area, where I could
talk to her without disturbing the others.
Don’t tell me you were also born in...”
But before she could complete her sentence, I shouted again, “Yes!”
“But, how come?”
And I don't know why we screamed and laughed at this fact.
Thousands of people must have been born in the same year, the same
month and the same place, given our country’s track record. But the
way we reacted!
6
You know, there is something else we have ;n common —the classical
music thing. I learnt chat you hold a degree in playing the sitar” 1
said.
Yes. And you hold one in playing the tab la, right?
Indeed. I learnt to play it for four years. In fact, 1 was never
interested, but my dad forced me to...”
" Well, you know what? That’s the only reason why I felt like
contacting you.”
Tm not sure 1 understand,” 1 said slowly.
“The hobby section in your profile said that you play the tabla.
And your interest in classical music was the only thing that differentiated
you from the others and made me feel like talking to you,” she clarified.
So that was it! A tabla makes a girl want to talk to a guy! It was
impossible to understand girls, but 1 felt like hugging my dad and
Thanking him for forcing me to learn the tabla.
“Even 1 got my degree after 4 years at Prayaag University. And we
both are in the IT industry," she pointed out more things we had in
common.
“Oh yes! You work with an IT company in Noida, if I am not wrong?”
I asked, knowing that I wasn’t wrong. And how could I be. when her
profile was in front of me?
“Yes. I work with ... Tell me something. My friends say that Infosys
people arc studious and good rank-holders. Is that true?”
“Are you expecting me to say ‘no’ to that?”
She laughed.
That was my first ever candid talk with a girl 1 hadn't seen yet. On
that call, we couched base on various things: the latest movies we had
seen, our best friends, her family, my family, our college days, music
and other areas of interest.
7
“So is your family in Bhubaneswar too?”
No, my native place is a very small town called Burla, near
Sambalpur. Mom and dad live there. My brother and I are in
Bhubaneswar, and we both work with Infosys. We stay in a rented flat
with two other roommates, and visit our parents on alternate weekends.
Burla is just a nights ride from Bhubaneswar.”
We talked for nearly an hour. 1 could feel my cell phone burning my
ear, and the cell s battery was on its last legs. And even though I wanted
to keep talking to her, I had to say, “Listen! My battery is going to give
up soon. But I hope we arc going to stay in touch.”
“Your battery?” she said, laughing.
I mean, my mobiles. ’ I started laughing coo.
“Just kidding. But I believe we’ll talk again.” Then she added,
suddenly, “But before you hang up, you have to say one good thing."
One good thing? Now where on earth would I find one good thing
to say? But I’d watched a movie the day before and, thanking god, I
repeated a line from it. Bismil ka sandesh hai ki kal Lahore jaane wali
gaadi hum Kakori pe lootenge, aur un paison se hathiyar kharidenge."
Then, I took a deep breath, and waited... And she burst into a big
laugh.
I still think it was a good line. But I don’t know what made her
laugh. Anyhow, I too joined in her laughter, so that she would not
think me stupid or lacking a sense of humor.
1 still think it was a good line. But I don’t know what made her
laugh. Anyhow, I too joined in her laughter, so that she would not
think me stupid or lacking a sense of humor.
"OK! I m hearing the final beeps from my cell. It was really nice
talking to you, Khushi. But we won’t be able to talk more, though I
want to.”
“Same here. I liked talking co you very much. See you.”
“Yeah, bye.”
Instead of bye, you should say ‘sec you’. It’s nicer. It means we’ll
8
interact again..." she said, and touched my heart, somewhere. Her
innocence and the candid way in which she talked to me had left its
mark on my mind.
“See you,” I said, before 1 hung up.
That night, lying on my bed, 1 went over the conversation again
and again. And I wondered: Could I have been more humorous, just
to impress her further? Or was the call just perfect, the way it should
have been? And was she thinking about the conversation too, at that
very moment, sitting somewhere in her room.
I don’t know why, but I felt like calling her up again and it was hard
to curb that urge. But I had co curb it, because 1 did not want to mess
things up, right in the beginning, by becoming a guy who bothers her
at 11:30 in the night. “No," I said to myself, loudly, switched off the
light and jumped into bed.
Alone in my room, 1 was smiling, talking to nobody and there was
this different sort of feeling within me. 1 slept, just so that the night
would pass, and a new day would come when I could hear her beautiful
voice once again.
The next day, I waited for her call. Though we’d not decided that she
was supposed to call me, still I had this gut-feeling that she would. By
10:00, in the office I was’ getting restless. I wanted to hear her voice
but, at the same time, 1 wanted her to call me up.
Happy had given me this success funda in the matter of girls: Don't
make them feel that yon are going crazy after them; just give some time and
they will come to you.
At 11:00, I realized that Happy was a fool and I went ahead and
9
SMSed her a "good morning”, even though it was a little lace for that.
1 didn’t receive any reply to my SMS and began wondering who
the real fool was,..
And, that day, I was also uncertain. Should 1 listen to my heart or
my brain? Both of them were pointing in opposite directions. My
brain was telling my ego, "What does she think of herself?” Whereas,
my heart still wished to hear her voice.
Call it my weakness or my effort to curb my ego - a little later I did
what my heart told me to do and I dialed her number.
Hey! Hi, how are you?” Khushi picked up the phone.
When wishing you a good morning, the sender also expects a similar
response, I am fine.”
"I was going to reply on the way to the office. "
“You mean you’re still at home?”
Yeah. Actually, we work in the afternoon shift as we have to be in
sync with our UK-based clients. Hey, my cabs outside,” she said rushing
and saying 'bye’ co her mom. I could hear the door being dosed and
her hi’ to her friends in the cab. After she got in, we resumed our talk.
“So what’s up?” I asked her.
Ami di was here this morning,” she said. I remembered her
mentioning a couple of names during our previous call, but I could
hardly remember who was who among them.
Ami di...? I murmured, trying to recall the name.
"I have three sisters and one brother. Misha di is the eldest and lives
in Ludhiana. She has a very sweet kid, Daan, who is studying in nursery.
Ann di is the second, and she too is married. She lives in Noida, an
hours drive from our place, and works with a BPO. Dccpu, my brother,
is two years younger than me and is working with an MNC in Assam.
I hey deal with oil wells and stuff. And Neeru is the youngest, my
10sweet little sis, she told me about her siblings again, with no complaints
or questions as to how I forgot about them so soon.
She continued, ' And apart from this, mum and dad are with us.
And in your family, it’s your mom and dad, you and your younger
brother, Tinku, who is also a software engineer with Infosys, and his
office is in the same building as yours, except he is on the first floor
and you on the second. Right?"
Anti that was a silent slap to my memory. She remembered everything
about my family. All I could do was say. ‘‘Hmm... 10 on 10.' and
laugh. But I laughed alone.
So, I was saying, Ami di was here this morning. After completing
her night-shift she came to Faridabad. She visits us once in a week or
two.
This call was all a hour her family. I came to know about two more
people - Davinder Jiju. Misha dis husband, and Pushkar, Ami di's
husband, Pushkar and Ami di used to work in the same company and
they happened to fall in love, which was not a good idea according to
Khushi's dad. The hurdles they had to face were no different from any
love story in Bollywood movies. Pushkar comes from a Hindu family
whereas Ami di belongs to a Sikh family. Pushkar is cool with boozing
and non-veg while these things arc taboo in Khushi's family. But then,
as we learn from those same movies, hove, in the end, wins all the
battles. And, that is what happened here as well. All the youngsters in
Khushi's family successfully convinced their dad to give his approval
for the marriage.
In that call, Khushi also mentioned that she used to leave her office
around 9:30 at night and reach her home by 11:00. Which meant
that she would be awake for quite a while and I could call her late at
night in case I felt the way I had the night before.
24
office, just like on any other weekday. I was checking our the photos
that MP had shot of us all, during the reunion trip. He emailed them
to us and while I was looking at them, in my Yahoo! inbox, I noticed
an ad flashing in the top-left corner.
It was an ad for a matrimonial site - Shaadi.com - with a beautiful
girl, smiling and looking for her perfect match.
Recalling our reunion discussion, I clicked the hyperlink on this ad,
which took me to the website. With the default filters enabled, I clicked
the search button and, in no time, I was on the result page with many
feminine picks. Wow! Some among them were damn pretty, and I
wanted to check them all out. But before I could visit the 6th one, I was
prompted to register at the website, without which I couldn't browse
through more profiles. The trailer was over and to watch the whole
movie you had to register yourself.
“I didn’t have much work that day, 50 I thought I’d register myself
and create my profile on the site.” This is what I kept saying to Happy,
Amardeep and MP Whereas, it was actually the other way round. Those
pretty faces on the results page forced me to make time in my hectic
2
schedule - which involved project delivery to a client, the very next
day.
Someone rightly said, “Three things - wealth, women and...” (I always
forget the third one) . can make anything happen in this world.”
So, finally, my profile was on the website. I uploaded a nice
photograph and unchecked any check box which asked to hide my
whereabouts from girls who might be searching for me. 1 did not forget
to mention my professional trips to the US and Europe either. After
an hour or so, 1 was all set to check out those pretty faces again. I set
my filters to check out all the Punjabi girls on the website and hit the
“search” button.The results page displayed some 3 digit number - the total number
of profiles that matched my search criteria. This was exciting! But I
could only check out some fifty of them before my eyes grew tired.
Still, among those fifty or so. there were a few whom I wanted to
contact. But before I could do so, there came a heartbreaking moment.
To talk to those pretty faces I had to make a payment to the site. There
is no such thing as a free lunch. Damn!
The only cost-free part was a way to express my interest in them by
clicking a button on their respective pages. This would send a message
from me co their inbox. But even if they gave me an affirmation to
interact, I still wouldn’t get their email ids unless I made the payment.
I checked the amount they were asking for.
“3000 bucks for the yearly plan! No way,” I said to myself. Then I
thought, “1 will only pay up if I happen to get good, affirmative responses
from those beauties.” Till then, whenever I felt like it, I could ping any
girl on the website to show my interest in her profile.
This was the beginning of my experience with shaadi.com - at the
cost of my project delivery, which I almost screwed up.
3
Apart from Happy, Amardeep and MP, nobody else knew about my
profile on the site, not even my parents. Because telling them that I
was thinking of getting married meant stirring a hornets nest. The
moment they found out, they would bring inputs from their
acquaintances all over the planet - and, Jesus! How I hated that!
For (he next few days, I got responses to my requests. Every time I
opened my inbox there was this strange excitement. But, most of the
time, it didn’t last long. The best ones had declined me. In fact, most
of them had ignored me. Only a handful accepted my request but,
unfortunately, they didn't appear that good. "Ah! This website is good
for nothing. ” 1 told myself. As if I was James Bond and all girls in the
world would throw themselves at me, the moment I approached them.
And this is how Shaadi.com went from high-priority to the lowest-
priority. Time passed by and I visited the site once in two or three
weeks, clicking buttons on profiles that interested me, but without
much expectation. Some more girls declined me; some girls, I declined.
A few wanted to interact, but their education was not impressive. Some
called me up on my cell; to some 1 wrote a few SMSs. A couple of them
wanted me to move abroad but I was not game; some others, 1 could
not convince that India was a better place to live in.
During one of my shore, official trips to the US, 1 also happened to
buy the yearly plan for a girl who badly wanted to talk to me. Damn!
Out of the three things (wealth, women and...the last one which I
always forget) that could make anything happen in this world, the
second was already making me do things. The irony being that the
girl, whom I coughed up 3000 bucks for, never got in touch. I lost all
interest in the website.
4
Then, one evening. 1 received an SMS on my cell phone.
Hi I m Khushi I
received ur msgs
on my other cell can
u pis call me now
Thai was 20-July-2006 18:58:19. My cell phones inbox still shows
the date and time.
When I got this SMS, I was in a conference call with a client in the
US. I quickly recalled the name of the profile from which I had got an
acceptance the week before, along with the contact mobile number
and an email id. 1 wrote an SMS in reply:
M in mid of a conf call,
wll ring you in another
hlf n hr.
I lie very next minute, my cell flashed the arrival of a new message.
I too hv cmpltd my conf cal
few min bck. U complete urs and
1 can wait till then.
After finishing my call, I dialed her number bur only after I had quickly browsed through her profile.
"Hello!" said a beautiful voice from the other end.
“Hi! This is Ravin."
“And I am Khushi,” she said in a pleasing and confident voice.
" Yup, 1 learnt that in your SMS. Sorry I kept you waiting but I was
in the middle of an important conference call with a client."
5
No problem. Even 1 had some stuff to complete.”
Our conversation began formally but, in no time, it became quite
relaxed and informal when we found out some amusing things.
I learnt that you were born in the month of February, ] 982,” she said. "Yes. 4th February. Anything specific?” I wondered if I was supposed
to recall something from her profile. But the only thing I remembered, then, was that she looked beautiful in her picture.
You might have noticed that my year and month of birth are the
same.”
Oh yes! 22th February. I had seen that," I said, quickly rushing to
my computer and scrolling through her profile. And you were born
in Faridabad...”
“No. I was born in Kolkata. My dad was in the defense services and,
when I was born, he was posted in Kolkata and was staying there with
family.”
Really...? You won't believe this!” I shouted, attracting my co-
workers’ attention.
“What?”
You guess! I said, heading towards the staircase area, where I could
talk to her without disturbing the others.
Don’t tell me you were also born in...”
But before she could complete her sentence, I shouted again, “Yes!”
“But, how come?”
And I don't know why we screamed and laughed at this fact.
Thousands of people must have been born in the same year, the same
month and the same place, given our country’s track record. But the
way we reacted!
6
You know, there is something else we have ;n common —the classical
music thing. I learnt chat you hold a degree in playing the sitar” 1
said.
Yes. And you hold one in playing the tab la, right?
Indeed. I learnt to play it for four years. In fact, 1 was never
interested, but my dad forced me to...”
" Well, you know what? That’s the only reason why I felt like
contacting you.”
Tm not sure 1 understand,” 1 said slowly.
“The hobby section in your profile said that you play the tabla.
And your interest in classical music was the only thing that differentiated
you from the others and made me feel like talking to you,” she clarified.
So that was it! A tabla makes a girl want to talk to a guy! It was
impossible to understand girls, but 1 felt like hugging my dad and
Thanking him for forcing me to learn the tabla.
“Even 1 got my degree after 4 years at Prayaag University. And we
both are in the IT industry," she pointed out more things we had in
common.
“Oh yes! You work with an IT company in Noida, if I am not wrong?”
I asked, knowing that I wasn’t wrong. And how could I be. when her
profile was in front of me?
“Yes. I work with ... Tell me something. My friends say that Infosys
people arc studious and good rank-holders. Is that true?”
“Are you expecting me to say ‘no’ to that?”
She laughed.
That was my first ever candid talk with a girl 1 hadn't seen yet. On
that call, we couched base on various things: the latest movies we had
seen, our best friends, her family, my family, our college days, music
and other areas of interest.
7
“So is your family in Bhubaneswar too?”
No, my native place is a very small town called Burla, near
Sambalpur. Mom and dad live there. My brother and I are in
Bhubaneswar, and we both work with Infosys. We stay in a rented flat
with two other roommates, and visit our parents on alternate weekends.
Burla is just a nights ride from Bhubaneswar.”
We talked for nearly an hour. 1 could feel my cell phone burning my
ear, and the cell s battery was on its last legs. And even though I wanted
to keep talking to her, I had to say, “Listen! My battery is going to give
up soon. But I hope we arc going to stay in touch.”
“Your battery?” she said, laughing.
I mean, my mobiles. ’ I started laughing coo.
“Just kidding. But I believe we’ll talk again.” Then she added,
suddenly, “But before you hang up, you have to say one good thing."
One good thing? Now where on earth would I find one good thing
to say? But I’d watched a movie the day before and, thanking god, I
repeated a line from it. Bismil ka sandesh hai ki kal Lahore jaane wali
gaadi hum Kakori pe lootenge, aur un paison se hathiyar kharidenge."
Then, I took a deep breath, and waited... And she burst into a big
laugh.
I still think it was a good line. But I don’t know what made her
laugh. Anyhow, I too joined in her laughter, so that she would not
think me stupid or lacking a sense of humor.
1 still think it was a good line. But I don’t know what made her
laugh. Anyhow, I too joined in her laughter, so that she would not
think me stupid or lacking a sense of humor.
"OK! I m hearing the final beeps from my cell. It was really nice
talking to you, Khushi. But we won’t be able to talk more, though I
want to.”
“Same here. I liked talking co you very much. See you.”
“Yeah, bye.”
Instead of bye, you should say ‘sec you’. It’s nicer. It means we’ll
8
interact again..." she said, and touched my heart, somewhere. Her
innocence and the candid way in which she talked to me had left its
mark on my mind.
“See you,” I said, before 1 hung up.
That night, lying on my bed, 1 went over the conversation again
and again. And I wondered: Could I have been more humorous, just
to impress her further? Or was the call just perfect, the way it should
have been? And was she thinking about the conversation too, at that
very moment, sitting somewhere in her room.
I don’t know why, but I felt like calling her up again and it was hard
to curb that urge. But I had co curb it, because 1 did not want to mess
things up, right in the beginning, by becoming a guy who bothers her
at 11:30 in the night. “No," I said to myself, loudly, switched off the
light and jumped into bed.
Alone in my room, 1 was smiling, talking to nobody and there was
this different sort of feeling within me. 1 slept, just so that the night
would pass, and a new day would come when I could hear her beautiful
voice once again.
The next day, I waited for her call. Though we’d not decided that she
was supposed to call me, still I had this gut-feeling that she would. By
10:00, in the office I was’ getting restless. I wanted to hear her voice
but, at the same time, 1 wanted her to call me up.
Happy had given me this success funda in the matter of girls: Don't
make them feel that yon are going crazy after them; just give some time and
they will come to you.
At 11:00, I realized that Happy was a fool and I went ahead and
9
SMSed her a "good morning”, even though it was a little lace for that.
1 didn’t receive any reply to my SMS and began wondering who
the real fool was,..
And, that day, I was also uncertain. Should 1 listen to my heart or
my brain? Both of them were pointing in opposite directions. My
brain was telling my ego, "What does she think of herself?” Whereas,
my heart still wished to hear her voice.
Call it my weakness or my effort to curb my ego - a little later I did
what my heart told me to do and I dialed her number.
Hey! Hi, how are you?” Khushi picked up the phone.
When wishing you a good morning, the sender also expects a similar
response, I am fine.”
"I was going to reply on the way to the office. "
“You mean you’re still at home?”
Yeah. Actually, we work in the afternoon shift as we have to be in
sync with our UK-based clients. Hey, my cabs outside,” she said rushing
and saying 'bye’ co her mom. I could hear the door being dosed and
her hi’ to her friends in the cab. After she got in, we resumed our talk.
“So what’s up?” I asked her.
Ami di was here this morning,” she said. I remembered her
mentioning a couple of names during our previous call, but I could
hardly remember who was who among them.
Ami di...? I murmured, trying to recall the name.
"I have three sisters and one brother. Misha di is the eldest and lives
in Ludhiana. She has a very sweet kid, Daan, who is studying in nursery.
Ann di is the second, and she too is married. She lives in Noida, an
hours drive from our place, and works with a BPO. Dccpu, my brother,
is two years younger than me and is working with an MNC in Assam.
I hey deal with oil wells and stuff. And Neeru is the youngest, my
10sweet little sis, she told me about her siblings again, with no complaints
or questions as to how I forgot about them so soon.
She continued, ' And apart from this, mum and dad are with us.
And in your family, it’s your mom and dad, you and your younger
brother, Tinku, who is also a software engineer with Infosys, and his
office is in the same building as yours, except he is on the first floor
and you on the second. Right?"
Anti that was a silent slap to my memory. She remembered everything
about my family. All I could do was say. ‘‘Hmm... 10 on 10.' and
laugh. But I laughed alone.
So, I was saying, Ami di was here this morning. After completing
her night-shift she came to Faridabad. She visits us once in a week or
two.
This call was all a hour her family. I came to know about two more
people - Davinder Jiju. Misha dis husband, and Pushkar, Ami di's
husband, Pushkar and Ami di used to work in the same company and
they happened to fall in love, which was not a good idea according to
Khushi's dad. The hurdles they had to face were no different from any
love story in Bollywood movies. Pushkar comes from a Hindu family
whereas Ami di belongs to a Sikh family. Pushkar is cool with boozing
and non-veg while these things arc taboo in Khushi's family. But then,
as we learn from those same movies, hove, in the end, wins all the
battles. And, that is what happened here as well. All the youngsters in
Khushi's family successfully convinced their dad to give his approval
for the marriage.
In that call, Khushi also mentioned that she used to leave her office
around 9:30 at night and reach her home by 11:00. Which meant
that she would be awake for quite a while and I could call her late at
night in case I felt the way I had the night before.
24
