Echoes Of Forever

1

"Wake up"

"Naina?"

"Wake up, Naina!" And my face was met with cold water before I could even open my eyes.

Waking up was never a challenge to me but sleeping late and waking up early was.

"Mummyy ye kya harkat hai?" It was the fourth time she was doing that whenever she saw me sleeping till late. There was a point where my mother almost thought I had cilomania. [what is this behavior mummy?]

"Dekhi hi kaha hai tumne meri harkat abhi." Of course. [ you haven't even seen this side yet ]

Contemplating to whether wake up or not, I was strongly pulled by my mother as she motioned me to go and freshen up. As if I didn't know what the first thing we did after waking up was.

Entering the bathroom, I closed the door behind me. Living with parents at the age of 24 wasn't what my parents thought was ideal. I should've got married till now, had my own house and oh well.

If I had to marry the most random person on this planet just to get out of this house, I gladly would.

But again, my standards.

"Are you coming?" My mother loves yelling and later complains for having a sore throat.

Setting the dupatta around my one shoulder neatly, i went downstairs.

For a fleeting moment, i surmised that my mother was renewing her efforts to find a compatible or to say, a suitable match for me, implicitly suggesting that she had regained confidence in my emotional readiness for matrimony.

No regrets about being single so far. It's just how things have worked out, and that's cool with me.

I'm never gonna marry someone chosen by my mother.

Choosing to ignore what my mother was doing, i decided to focus on finding some breakfast instead. Pet Pooja over anything.

I swiftly devoured the sandwiches that had been prepared a few hours earlier. Although I would have loved freshly made ones, but my inner couch potato won out.

Once I'd wrapped up everything, I intended to head to where I was supposed to go, but my mother, being her usual meddling self, felt compelled to intervene.

"Naina, you're not going anywhere until you've met my top two picks for you. Choose one and tell me." Oh, like I would, mummy.

I knew I was getting late, my mother knew I was getting late. "Mummy, right now is not the time we talk about it."

She shook her head in disbelief "Did you ever find the right time?"

"My future self was yelling at me to get my act together and start doing something on my own, so I had to obey."

"A future where your earnings are scarce?" Ouch.

Thankfully, my father was out of town, sparing me from an even more chaotic situation.

Irritation was written all over my face. Not only was I facing a time crunch but she had also just delivered a devastating blow, calling my future prospects not worthy enough.

Just as I thought I'd finally escaped the lecture zone, my mother's phone rang, because of course it did, the universe wasn't done torturing me yet.

"Hello?" She answered the call without breaking eye contact with me, her gazed fixed firmly on mine, making it clear that our conversation was far from over and she was not letting me off the hook that easily.

"Oh, namaste aunty ji. Aapne apni beti ke rishte ke liye call Kiya tha?" [ Oh, Hello aunty ji, you had called me for the proposal for your daughter? ]

"Aap Ruhaan bol rahe hai?" [ Is Ruhan speaking? ]

"Ji." [ Yes. ]

"Ek second." [ one second. ]

My mother swiftly approached me, phone in hand, her expression indicating that I was about to be thrust into the conversation, whether I liked it or not.

I put up a futile resistance, protesting the handoff, but ultimately succumbed to my mother's persistence, reluctantly taking the call. What the hell?

"Hello?" I spoke, not being sure who the person was.

"Hello! Naina ji?" Ew.

"Haanji, aur aap?" [ Yes, and you? ]

"Wo aapki mummy ji ne humare rishte ke liye call Kiya tha. Mai Ruhaan hu ji." Now, what the actual fuck. [ Your mother had called me for your hand in marriage. I am Ruhan, by the way. ]

"Sacchi ji? Aap meri bimari ke bawajood bhi mujhse shaadi karne ke liye ready ho?" My mother's expression turned quizzical, eyes narrowing in confusion.
[ Really? Are you ready to marry me despite my illness?" ]

"Kaunsi bimari ji?" [ What illness? ]

"Aapko mummy ne bataya nahi? Shayad bhool gayi hongi. Koi nahi, mai hi bata deti hu. Wo, mujhe na Aids hai."
[ Didn't mom tell you? Maybe she forgot. No worries, I'll tell. I have AIDS. ]

My mother's shock had reached its peak now. She wrestled the phone from my grasp, but just as she was about to unleash a torrent of words, the call abruptly dropped, leaving her stunned and silent.

Before she could even process her thoughts and unleash a flurry of words, I swiftly grabbed my tote bag from the sofa, unlocked the door, and made a quick escape outside.

"Naina!"

"Bye, mummy!" And with that, I went to my dance studio.

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And, the story begins.