Threads of Tradition: Tales Of Indian Arranged Marriages

2.

The day had finally arrived for Neel and Mira Desai to move into their shared apartment, a modern two-bedroom space nestled in a bustling neighbourhood that buzzed with life. As Neel pulled up to the building, he felt a flutter of nerves mixed with excitement. This was a new chapter, one that required a careful balance between companionship and independence.

Mira stepped out of the car, her arms laden with boxes, and flashed Neel a bright smile. “Ready for this?” she asked, a playful glint in her eyes.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he replied, returning her smile, though inside, his mind raced with thoughts of their unconventional arrangement. They were officially married, but in their hearts, they were still figuring out how to navigate this new dynamic.

As they moved their belongings into the apartment, the first few days were a blend of chaos and camaraderie. Boxes were stacked haphazardly in corners, and the air was filled with the sounds of furniture being shuffled around and laughter echoing off the walls. Despite the excitement of settling in, there was an undeniable awkwardness that hovered between them—a hesitance to step too close, to breach the invisible barrier they had established.

Once the essentials were unpacked, they sat down to discuss house rules over takeout on their newly acquired dining table. “Okay, we should probably set some ground rules,” Mira suggested, looking over the spread of food with a thoughtful expression.

Neel nodded, pushing a container of fried rice toward her. “Let’s keep it simple. Clean up after ourselves, respect each other’s space, and no late-night loud music unless it’s for an emergency.” He smirked, remembering Mira’s vibrant personality and penchant for spontaneity.

Mira chuckled, shaking her head. “Fair enough. But I can promise no loud music during movie marathons. That’s a non-negotiable!”

“Deal,” Neel replied, a grin breaking across his face. He liked this side of her, the one that wasn’t afraid to push back against the boundaries they had just established.

As days turned into weeks, they fell into a routine that was uniquely theirs. Neel was up early, typically settling in at his laptop before dawn broke, immersed in his work while sipping on the first cup of coffee. He had a meticulous way of organizing everything around him, from his work files to the groceries in the kitchen, preferring order over chaos.

Mira, in contrast, was the quintessential creative spirit. She loved the quiet of early mornings, but her routine was more fluid. She often spent late nights editing her films and brainstorming ideas, and she thrived in the whirlwind of inspiration that struck her unexpectedly. Mornings found her wrapped in a cosy blanket, jotting down her thoughts in her ever-present notebook, while her chaotic creative energy seeped into the apartment, leaving little traces of her vibrant personality in every corner.

The awkwardness began to fade, replaced by a tentative friendship that blossomed between shared meals and late-night conversations. They would often find themselves sitting on the couch, debating which film to watch or diving into discussions about their dreams. It was during these moments that Neel learned about Mira’s childhood in Mumbai, her love for old Bollywood films, and the stories behind her ambitions.

“I always wanted to make films that showcase real stories,” she shared one evening, her eyes bright with passion. “I want to capture the beauty in everyday life and tell the stories that often go unheard.”

Neel admired her fervour, finding himself drawn to her dreams. “You have a gift, Mira. I can’t wait to see your vision come to life.”

While Mira revelled in Neel’s steady presence, she also noticed his tendency to retreat into his work, sometimes spending entire weekends focused on coding projects. “Hey, don’t forget to take breaks,” she reminded him playfully one Saturday afternoon, tossing a pillow at him. “You can’t work all the time.”

He looked up, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “I know, I know. Just trying to get ahead.”

“Why not work together? I could use some help on my script,” she suggested, her excitement bubbling over.

Neel raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “You want me to help with a film script?”

“Absolutely! You’re great at problem-solving. Plus, we can bounce ideas off each other,” Mira insisted, her enthusiasm infectious.

As they worked on the script together, Neel began to see a different side of Mira—her creativity, her passion, and the way her mind danced with ideas. They spent hours scribbling notes, debating characters, and exploring themes, and with each passing day, the walls that once separated them began to dissolve, replaced by a warm companionship that neither had expected.

Yet, even amidst the laughter and growing friendship, there remained an undercurrent of unspoken feelings. Late-night brainstorming sessions turned into shared glances that lingered a moment too long, and moments of silence grew charged with possibilities. Neel found himself drawn to Mira in ways he hadn’t anticipated, intrigued by her vivacity and the depth of her thoughts.

Mira, too, felt an unexpected warmth toward Neel, a steady presence that grounded her amid her whirlwind of creativity. But as they navigated the intricacies of their arrangement, both were left wondering if their evolving friendship would remain just that or blossom into something deeper.

In this cosy apartment filled with the scents of home-cooked meals and the sounds of laughter, Neel and Mira were discovering that the lines between roommates and soulmates were more blurred than they had ever imagined.