Student × Professor Romance
Roohi and Nishaan cherish an epic Bollywood love story until Maan Singh enter their lives. A game of Junoon (obsession) begins.
Roohi is an introvert, bookworm girl who gets attracted to her grumpy professor Nishaan on th...
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I took a spoonful of the curry my mom made while scrolling through my phone, and she noticed, giving me a disapproving look before slapping my hand. I looked up, taking in the eerie silence of the atmosphere around me that was interrupted by Bunty's chewing next to my ear.
"It's work." My eyes glued to the screen as I took another spoonful of curry.
"It's off work hours, dear! Stop being such a workaholic." My mother sat in front of me and handed a bowl of rice to Bunty.
"I doubt it's work." Bunty mused, sitting next to me and crunching on a cucumber slice.
"What do you mean?" my mother asked, her curiosity piqued.
"What kind of a man would look so dearly at bunch of letters or PDFs?"
"I thought he wasn't dating the 'none-of-your-business' girl anymore."
"He isn't, but he still can't forget her." Bunty stirred the curry with his spoon.
"My good lord! I have never seen him serious for a girl before. Who is she? What's her name?"
"Roohi."
I blocked out Bunty and my mother's chatter, completely absorbed in Roohi's Instagram story on my fake account. She was outside, playing with the puppies, and for the first time in months, I saw her laughing, glowing with pure joy. I found myself admiring her genuine smile in that story for hours until I heard her name mentioned nearby, pulling my attention back to the gloomy dining table.
"Did you say something?" I looked at both of them, dumbfounded, so did they.
"See! I told you, drowned in love." Bunty stood up and carried his utensils to the sink. I glanced into the kitchen, where the upside-down utensils stared back at me with a grotesque hue, making me turn my gaze back to my mom.
My mother looked at me expectantly, as if waiting for a story or an explanation, while the clatter of dishes echoed from the kitchen. Feeling clueless, I averted my gaze from her and focused on my food instead.
After washing the dishes, Bunty headed back to his apartment, giving me a side hug that seemed to say, "You can handle this, man!" As I made my way upstairs, I noticed my mother sleeping peacefully in her room. A smile crept onto my face as I quietly shut the door and turned off the lights in the living area.
I didn't feel like lighting up a cigarette today. I wasn't frustrated. We had talked earlier. Standing on the balcony, I admired the dark blue sky twinkling with stars and recalled the day she had stopped me from smoking. Grabbing my wrist, she took the cigarette and threw it into the dustbin. Sometimes, I lit a cigarette, hoping she would show up and toss it away for me again.
The laughter of the couple below stirred a pang of old memories. I try not to think of her, and sometimes I feel like I'm succeeding, but then everything around me brings back her presence-her dominating presence in my life that I don't want to forget.
