Love Fritters | ✓

| 1988 |

Follow me on Instagram for story-related updates, some creative content and to rant your heart out - handle is- suganthii.writes

--

Sonali swung open the door of their humble abode, only to be greeted by the puzzling sight of an unlocked door. "Did Mukesh beat me home today?" she mumbled, a hint of suspicion mingling with curiosity. Juggling a bag heavy with vegetables in one hand and a stack of notebooks in the other, she shuffled inside, her mind buzzing with the day's to-dos and Mukesh's unexpected schedule change.

Just last month, Sonali had snagged a teaching position, a triumph that seemed like the universe giving her a well-deserved nod. Her wedding to Mukesh had zipped by in a blur right after her finals, where she didn't just gain a husband but also snagged the title of class valedictorian.

The Agnihotris had initially been a tough crowd, hesitant to delay the nuptials until after her exams but Mukesh, her knight in shining armor, had gone to bat for her, convincing his clan to hit pause. This delay wasn't just about waiting; it was a testament to her dreams of balancing both a career and family life, proving she could wear her graduation cap with as much flair as her bridal nath.

Sonali's decision to delay her wedding had a domino effect, inadvertently putting her sister's matrimonial plans on ice too, since they were gunning for a blockbuster double wedding. This hiccup brewed a bit of family drama as her sister, itching to tie the knot with the elder Agnihotri boy, threw a mini-tantrum. "Your bookworm habits are hijacking my love life!" Sonali, in her typical level-headed fashion, tried to soothe the storm with, "Hang tight—it's only six months," but her attempt at reassurance only earned her a scorching glare from her sister.

Mukesh had stayed true to his word, supporting her educational aspirations right up to and after their marriage. Post-wedding, they settled into a cozy rented house in Gondia due to Mukesh's job at a local accounting firm, and Sonali had quickly secured a teaching position, her impressive credentials making the job hunt smooth.

Almost a year into their marriage, Sonali discovered that life with Mukesh was like settling into a cozy armchair—comfortable, sturdy, and unexpectedly sprinkled with bursts of whimsy, courtesy of Mukesh's undercover cheesy streak. His knack for spinning romantic shayaris had dropped like a bombshell at their wedding reception. There he was, a poet in disguise, waxing lyrical, much to everyone's astonishment. The guests had been charmed, and even Sonali found herself blushing a brilliant shade of crimson.

Since unveiling his poetic prowess, Mukesh had turned their daily life into an ongoing poetry slam, where Sonali was both muse and audience. His heartfelt verses left her cheeks perpetually tinged with pink, her replies usually a shy "Thank you" to his barrage of "I love yous." Yet, the realm of physical intimacy still felt like a map without clear roads for Sonali.

Meanwhile, her sister, who had tied the knot in tandem with Sonali, was already on the baby announcements train, plunging her deeper into a whirlpool of mixed emotions about taking the next steps with Mukesh. This contrast between her and her sister's experiences added an extra layer of complexity to her feelings, making her journey into marital intimacy a hesitant, tentative tiptoe.

Mukesh was a paragon of patience, always armed with a comforting smile and a mantra for their marriage: "Sona, let's not rush. We're young; there's no script for this, we write our own." Yet, deep down, Sonali sometimes craved a dash of daring from him—maybe swoop in for a kiss unexpectedly or surprise her with a midnight dance in their kitchen. She vividly remembered that steamy afternoon in Nashik when Mukesh had risen from the pond like a scene from a movie, water cascading down his lean, glistening torso, igniting a rush of unfamiliar desires within her.