Silent Love

| 3 |

Shehnaaz

Dinner with Sidharth had been an stressful job, more exhausting then open heart surgery.

I lacked the first hand experience, knowledge and prowess in the field of dating. I was entirely powerless against his arguments, and there was nobody to turn to for help.

Once reaching home and closing the door. I rested my head against the door and let out a long sigh of exhaustion. Noises from the dinning room were beckoning me to follow and thus I took the call. Upon entering, I caught sight of the long dinner table situated accurately at the centre of the room.

There was no hint of dust on the floor or dinner table. The surrounding intimidated my posture, forcing my body to be conscious of my movements.

My mother follows a strict unforgiving policy when it came to maintenance of her house, therefore disappointing her was out of the question.

"How was dinner?" Asked my dad.

His demeanour was that of a strict policeman, which in many ways he was and there was no sign of softness or parental love on his face

"He was alright." I murmured. But soon enough I realised that wasn't his original question. "I mean it was alright, we uh had fun"

My mother could tell that I was being an awful liar, but my father wasn't as perceptive, and I was surprisingly thankful for that. "Well is he impressed with you?"

"I suppose."

"We will have to wait for tomorrow then." He said as he got up from his seat. Carrying his wine glass he retreated to his bedroom, "let's just hope for the best."

I resisted the urge to snort.

Once he was away, I sat on his place across my mother. She had an unreadable expression plastered on her face, but I bet she was trying to analyse me. "How was dinner?"

"You tell me how was yours?" I retorted.

She rolled her eyes, "peaceful as your father wasn't around to make it miserable."

"I wasn't as lucky" I shrugged, "Sidharth is not going to say no, congratulations your daughter is finally getting married."

"Don't give me that look" my mother reclined defensively, "I'm not the one forcing you into this."

"Right."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well I know you are not the one forcing me." I said, "but as my mother I expected you to stand up for me."

"Oh and did you ever stand up for me."

"I was ten years old!" I yelled.

I hadn't meant my pitch to escalate like that, but when somebody falsely accused me or blamed me for what was beyond my control, my patience couldn't be sustained. With an irate look she left the room.

Scoffing at her audacity, I looked towards the ceiling. I was surprised at how she could blame me for everything that goes wrong in her life. The biggest mistake in her life occurred even before I was born and she was responsible for it. She merely facing the price of it till date.

If anything I was one of the consequences her decision had caused, and I must be the one to blame her for that.

Having had enough for the day, I got up from the chair. After ensuring that the doors were locked and the gas was safely turned off. I made my way to the bedroom.

The sight of me in the mirror enraged me. Getting dressed up to impress a guy doesn't exactly make me happy.

A cold shower was often my saviour, but it didn't even helped that day. I refused to cry because I know there would no end to it anytime soon.