Chapter 1 #2
As her mother disappeared back down the hall, Manisha’s mind drifted to why she was there, in her childhood bedroom, thousands of miles away from her home in London, in the first place.
The mess on the floor was a harsh reminder of her predicament.
The relentless phone calls from creditors heightened her anxiety, a nagging reminder of her deteriorating financial situation caused by her impulsive spending and mounting takeout bills following her breakup.
Pushing the feeling of dread aside, Manisha swung her legs off the bed and padded over to her bookcase.
Her fingers brushed the worn spines of the books she used to sneak past her mother and hurriedly read under the covers as a teenager.
The stories inside had whisked her away to sun-soaked beaches and summer romances, where girls named Samantha or Carly revelled in forbidden kisses and carefree days spent with charming lifeguards named Chad and Chip.
As a young girl, Manisha had yearned to be one of those teenagers playing Truth or Dare at a distant summer camp.
Instead, she was bound by a strict curfew and a firm no-dating policy—the unyielding rules that felt more like laws imposed by the more “traditional” Indian parents in Baskin, California.
Her teenage hormones and desire for a pimple-faced romance didn’t stand a chance.
“No, you can’t go to that party unless your brothers are there.”
“No, you must be home by 8 p.m.”
“No boys allowed.”
As soon as she was old enough to break free from her parents’ watchful eyes and her community’s expectations, Manisha, desperately craving the freedom to explore the dating scene like a non-Indian kid, did precisely that.
After all, studying law kept her busy—as far as her parents knew, she was buried in books at the library.
But the truth was quite different: by day, she immersed herself in her studies, and by night, she seized the opportunity to make up for lost time, embracing the dating experiences and playful eggplant-emoji moments she had longed for.
It was ironic that she was now home, finding comfort for a broken heart with her overbearing parents.
Manisha’s thoughts were interrupted by a sharp buzz.
Glancing at her phone, she saw the name “Cheating Scumbag” light up the screen, accompanied by a text message.
An intense rage bubbled up within her at the mere thought of her ex-boyfriend, Oliver.
Her skin flushed a different kind of hot and, as though the fury within her was just too much for her body to contain, angry tears began to pool along her bottom lashes.
Without a second thought, she pressed the delete button, watching with satisfaction as the message vanished into the digital abyss.
The last time Manisha had seen Oliver was nearly three months ago when their relationship—and her entire world—had fallen apart.
“You’ll regret this,” she’d managed to utter, her heart racing as she slammed the door to their shared apartment behind her.
She was a fiery Aries, and the thought of forgiving him was laughable.
Oliver deserved his fate. Unlike Manisha, who certainly didn’t deserve how he’d treated her.
She couldn’t believe she’d let her astrologer pull the wool over her eyes, convincing her that Aries and Aquarius were some cosmic power couple destined to create a “stable and honest relationship.” What a joke!
Manisha blinked back the tears and instead, desperate for a distraction, opened the group chat she shared with her brothers. Sanj had sent through some photos from his and Needa’s honeymoon earlier when Manisha was still sleeping.
Hola from Mexico! Can’t wait to see everyone soon.
Manisha smiled as she read the message in the chat.
Looks amazing! Send more pics! she typed back.
She was so happy for Sanj and even happier for her other brother, Sammy, who had finally found someone, too.
From the moment she met her future sister-in-law, Manny, at Sanj’s wedding, Manisha had felt an instant connection.
Watching Sammy beam with happiness and witnessing their budding romance felt like living out a scene from her favourite Bollywood film.
Shah Rukh Khan and Deepika Padukone in Chennai Express paled compared to the magic between Manny and Sammy.
Sitting on the edge of her bed, Manisha gently placed her phone on her lap.
She wore an oversized Backstreet Boys T-shirt from childhood, now snug against her frame.
She could hear her mother’s voice the day she first saw her wearing it.
“Five men all resting their head on your chest. Someone save me from this besharam!” She chuckled, recounting that memory.
She picked up her phone again and checked her work emails out of habit.
They were over a month old. Nothing new would arrive since she no longer had access to that account.
A wave of anxiety washed over her, leaving her throat dry. She gulped audibly.
Manisha opened the photos tab, her gaze lingering on the button of the screen as her thumb slowly traced the smooth surface of the glass.
She wondered if pressing harder could erase one or more of the contents.
Taking a deep breath, she opened another tab on her phone, revealing her digital vision board.
It was time for a reset—not just in the digital realm, but in every aspect of her life.
Manisha was determined to initiate that reset while she was here in Baskin, but first things first: her stomach was growling louder than her aspirations.