fourteen

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14. pehle dupatta, aur ab tumhara yeh pallu. (first dupatta, and now the end of your saree.)

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I had been playing hide and seek with my brother for the last two days now. He had tried approaching me several times but I made an excuse to book out of the conversation every time he was even five feet close. It wasn't easy. But it wasn't hard either. Considering how work-obsessed he is, he rarely comes out to socialize. And mom doesn't even force him unlike how she forces me.

He has always had a reason to behave the way he does, so it was always excused. On the other side, I was seen as the child who throws tantrums and has attitude issues. Half of the time I'm like what!? My own family believes I ignore mixing with people intentionally. When the truth is, I get anxious and nervous and I sweat bullets if I've to make a conversation I hadn't previously rehearsed or imagined. The office is already hard, and you expect me to entertain people out of my limited social circle as well? No thanks. I just don't have the reason of work as my brother does. When he denies meeting people, he is making money, he is creating a name for himself, but if I do it, I'm being lazy and arrogant. I'm sorry if I'm not a workaholic. I'm making a living for myself and that is enough.

Today was the big day. The engagement day. The ceremony was to begin at six pm in the evening but I was all ready to go downstairs even though it isn't even four yet. I had put on my two-piece black suit, which thankfully fits me because mom had taken the measurements from my old suit and not just assumed I'm the same stature as Bhai. That would have been funny though. My brother is like six feet two and built like a boxer, while I have got the body that would best suit a male model. Tall, lean with broad shoulders and narrow waist. I remember being called 'chini' in my school days because I was fair, had fluffy hair and my looks leaned slightly on the feminine side. That was my biggest insecurity while growing up. While many of my male classmates began growing facial hair from ninth grade, I was clean as a slate even when I hit the tenth grade. Luckily, puberty hit me after boards and the teasing stopped.

"Haye meri jaan, kya lag raha hai! (Damn sweetheart, you're absolutely killing it!)" Vikram complimented upon entering the room. A smile bloomed on my face. "Thoda late nahi ho gaya lekin? Zara jaldi tayyar ho jata. (Aren't you late though? You should have got ready a little early.)" He commented sarcastically. My smile fell.

"Shut up," I rolled my eyes.

He chuckled and yanked a chair to sit in front of me. With the back of the chair facing me, he plopped down and crossed his arms on top of the backrest. "Nervous?"

I shrugged. "Not really." I tugged at my cufflinks.

"You're nervous," he smirked.

I sighed. "Thanks. I couldn't tell."

He chuckled. "She must be double nervous. So chill."

"Really?" My brows raised in surprise.

He hummed. "I once had a conversation about this with Nisha. She told me she was so nervous before our engagement ceremony she couldn't even stand properly because her knees kept trembling."

"But yours was love marriage," I frowned.

"Exactly," he pointed out. "So imagine how Priya must be feeling." He speculated.

I imagined Priya with trembling knees and almost laughed out loud. My imagination power is a blessing since I can make up stuff in high definition in my head and this was the most hilarious one. There was no way Priya can ever have cold feet before any of our wedding ceremonies. While yes, I've seen her getting nervous and shy in front of me several times, she had never let it become a moment but only a fleeting second of it.

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