Love Fritters | ✓

| 1986 |

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"Oh, an accountant! How...practical," Sonali's father chortled, his laugh skimming the edge of sarcasm as he leaned forward with mock interest. "I suppose the paychecks are plump, eh?"

Sonali shot the poor, unsuspecting accountant a withering glance that could have wilted flowers. Here she was, smack in the middle of an improvised matchmaking circus that was getting increasingly bizarre by the minute. The man's hopeful, slightly sweaty smile only added to the absurdity of the situation, making her want to escape even more.

Why not just hitch your elder son to my Tai and skedaddle out of here? This was not in the plan!

The original plan was simple: the Agnihotri clan would waltz into their house, and she'd play the ultimate hostess, dazzling them with crispy onion fritters while their eldest son spun his charm on her sister. The final thumbs-up or thumbs-down would come later, from the comfort of their own home.

What nobody mentioned was the bonus Agnihotri—a second son who tagged along like an unexpected sequel. Suddenly, the gathering morphed into an impromptu matchmaking fiesta. As soon as the elders caught wind of not one, but two eligible bachelors, their eyes lit up with the idea of a package deal. If the firstborns were a good match, why not pair off the younger siblings as well? Just like that, she found herself unwittingly co-starring in a romantic comedy plotted by her relatives.

She wasn't interested, not in the slightest, but apparently, her opinion was irrelevant. They dolled her up like a porcelain doll and plunked her down across from a mustachioed man who sneakily eyed her from time to time.

"It's all so sudden, I think the kids should have a chat," chirped an aunt, slicing through the thick air of matchmaking with a hopeful smile.

Talk? About what, exactly? The best strategies for making a break for it through the nearest window? Or maybe hit the guy with a brick!?

"Haan, you are right!" came a chorus of eager affirmations from around the room, as relatives bobbed their heads like enthusiastic pigeons, oblivious to her internal eye rolls.

"Sonali, sweetheart, why don't you and Mukesh take a little stroll together? You two can have a chat, and see if there's a spark," her mother suggested with a hopeful twinkle in her eye that clearly said she was already planning the wedding.

And what if I'm not ready to spark anything?

"Okay," Sonali replied, her voice flat, masking her reluctance with a polite nod.

Suppressing a groan, she flicked her hand slightly, signaling Mukesh to come along. As they walked away, Sonali mentally prepared herself for a symphony of awkward silences punctuated by forced chit-chat. This was going to be one long walk.

--

"What are you studying these days?" he asked, leaning in with a curious tilt of his head.

"I'm diving into my B.Ed. program," she replied, her voice carrying a mix of hope and determination. "I'm aiming to shape young minds as a teacher."

"Ah, that's noble." He seemed genuinely impressed. "You know, we had a teacher, Anjali, back in school who taught us accounting. She had this knack for making numbers dance on the chalkboard. Pretty much the reason I ended up chasing ledgers as an accountant."

"Hmm..."

"Teachers really do throw the best pebbles into the pond, don't they? The ripples just keep spreading. I bet you're going to be one of those epic ripple-makers."