Chapter 24
When Manisha got back home, her mind was still reeling from the whirlwind of emotions she had experienced with Rohit that evening.
The truths he’d shared had struck her like a ton of bricks, shattering the misconceptions she’d held for so long.
No wonder he’d been so eager to escape the luxury car when they first met.
It had been a painful reminder of everything he’d lost, a symbol of a past he was desperate to leave behind.
Manisha had grown up in a world where gossip was as constant as the air she breathed. Despite her parents’ warnings to never judge others based on hearsay, she had, unfortunately, become swept up in the gossip mill—especially when it came to Rohit.
It was a harsh reminder that the loudest voices were often the ones spouting the most damaging stories. From this point forward, she would rise above the petty rumours and focus on what mattered: figuring out her own life and finding a husband.
Although the latter quest was still ongoing, she realized that for the first time she had actually admitted to herself that practicing law wasn’t something she was excited about anymore.
Perhaps it was the few glasses of wine they had shared, or the serene night sky overhead, the stars twinkling like whispers of vast possibilities.
Or maybe it was simply the quiet reassurance of Rohit’s presence that made everything come into focus.
Whatever the reason, she felt a flicker of potential that she had long kept hidden away.
But Deena’s voice echoed in her mind: One thing at a time. She smiled softly to herself. It was true. There was a lot to untangle, a lot to figure out, but for the first time, she felt like she was on the right path. And that was enough for now.
She leaned against the doorway to the living room, watching her parents.
They were engrossed in conversation, their faces illuminated by the soft glow of the lamp on the side table.
She moved to join them on the couch, reaching for an apple slice off the plate on the coffee table, brushing away the bits of black pepper that her dad always added for that spicy Indian twist. The crisp crunch of the gala apple filled the room, and she savoured the sweet and tangy flavour.
This was her parents’ routine every night before bed.
A simple yet loving tradition that united them and allowed them to connect after a long day.
She hoped to share that with her own partner one day.
“Hungry? I can cook you something?” her dad inquired with a smile.
“This apple is good for me, Dad. Rohit whipped up some sandwiches at the coffee shop earlier, so I’m good,” she replied.
As she spoke, the volume on the TV conspicuously lowered.
“Beta, you have been out and about all week. What have you been doing and with whom?” her mom asked.
“You told me to keep busy, so I was catching up with Deena, meeting new people,” Manisha replied. “A date here and there.”
Her mother sat up suddenly. “Oh, tell us more. I heard Chakar Uncle’s son is back. Did you meet with him?”
“Mom! Didn’t he just get back from university? He’s like twenty-two! So no, it wasn’t him. Geez.”
“Age doesn’t matter. Look at your father and me. He is seventy-two, and I am fifty-three.”
“Wow, Mom, your math skills are way off. I’m pretty sure you’re in your sixt—”
“Chup, Manisha.”
“Anyway, it was nobody. Not even worth mentioning because it was such a disappointment.”
“Because you didn’t take my flirting advice.”
“I tried, I swear! But there were no attempts to help me with my straps. Unless you count Deena.”
“Chal, next time, beta. You know, sometimes you’ve got to kiss a few toads before you find your frog,” her mom said, gesturing dramatically toward Manisha’s dad.
“Mom, you mean prince, not frog,” Manisha corrected with a snicker. “Also, Dad, just so you know, Mom just called you a frog.”
Her dad, ever the jokester, shot back, “Better than the donkey she called me this morning!”
“All you girls these days are looking for Hrithik Roshan or what’s his name…
Rahul Singh? No. Hmm…” Her mom grabbed at the air as though trying to catch the escaped name.
“Ha! Ran…Ran-what? Ranesh? Ranvit? Oh, I don’t know.
But I do know, you all want someone like that, but do you know how many surgeries and personal chefs those people have?
It’s all these unrealistic expectations you kids have.
No one looks like that in real life! I know the real Shah Rukh Khan, mind you, long before he became this Mister Worldwide SRK,” her mom added, leaning back in her chair with a satisfied smirk.
Manisha inwardly sighed. Here it came again—the Shah Rukh Khan story. She sent up a silent plea for a quick escape.
“When I was young, hot, and happening…” her mother began with that familiar twinkle in her eye.
“Mom, please, don’t call yourself hot,” Manisha interrupted, stifling a grin.
Her mom raised an eyebrow, undeterred. “Leh, hot and spicy girl, you know what I mean?” She shot a playful glance at her husband.
“You’re still hot and happening, darling,” her dad replied.
“Anyway,” her mother continued, oblivious to the exchange, “all these private school boys were after me, trying to tie the knot. And then—this guy shows up.”
Manisha stifled a laugh. Guy? Only her mother would ever reduce Shah Rukh Khan to a mere “guy.” But she knew better than to interrupt now.
“He just wouldn’t leave me alone! Everywhere I went, there he was—Chalte Chalte, following me around India like I was his personal love interest.” Her mother sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes.
Manisha shook her head, smiling. She’d heard this story so many times, but her mom always managed to make it sound like a blockbuster romance.
“So finally, I had to put my foot down. I told him, ‘Listen, I’m not interested!’ ” Her mother sat back, as if this had been some monumental moment in her life.
“And then?” Manisha asked, feigning curiosity, though she knew the rest by heart.
“Then, the guy walked away, heartbroken,” her mom said with a mischievous grin. “But I moved on, of course. I’m very happy now. But him? Every time I see him on TV, I can still see the sadness in his eyes. Especially when he says, ‘To the love of my life!’ ”
Manisha couldn’t stifle a burst of laughter. “Oh my god, Mom, really? Poor Shah Rukh Khan. He’s probably just giving speeches for his fans, and you’re convinced he’s still pining for you.”
Her mom waved a dismissive hand. “Who knows? Maybe he’s still thinking about me. After all, he never did find anyone as hot as me.”
“Yes, Mom. Everyone knows you chose Dad over SRK. And after losing you, he became a Bollywood superstar, obviously heartbroken, and now dedicates all his award speeches to you. What a tragic loss for him!”
“Superstar, stupid star, I couldn’t care less,” her mom said, shrugging. “The point is your prince doesn’t have to look like a Bollywood hero. He can look like your father and still be a good husband.”
Manisha’s dad, lounging on the sofa in his trusty white kurta, shook his head and got up. “I’m going to get a drink droonk while you ladies compare me to other men.”
Her mom waved him off dismissively. Turning back to Manisha, she added, “You know Meena Auntie called today, na? She said she has very high hopes for you.”
“Well, in that case, all is well now because Meena Auntie believes in me,” Manisha said with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Sunshine, rainbows, and—”
Seeds.
“Chup! Too much talking,” her mom scolded, wagging her finger.
“I’m joking, Mom! And you’re right, I probably have to kiss a few frogs before I find my prince.”
“Oye! Not too much kissing, ah? I don’t want to hear you’re out there kissing this uncle’s son or that uncle’s nephew. Anyway,” her mom continued, ignoring her, “I’m glad you and Rohit Khanna have sorted things out.”
“Well, let’s not get carried away. But yes, I do think he deserves a second chance—and so does his current girlfriend.”
Just then, Manisha’s phone buzzed. Not even bothering to check who it was, she jumped up from the couch.
“I’m heading upstairs,” she announced, gesturing with her phone. “Deena.”
“Don’t stay up too late, beta. Get some rest,” her mom said. “More rest equals more dates.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works, Mom.”
She kissed her mom on the forehead, gave her dad a big hug, and practically skipped up the stairs like a kid with a perfect report card. As odd as it had been, today had left her with the sense that, finally, things might be falling into place.