On Mumbai Street (Published)

Chapter 1

There are a lot of things you can do on a summer evening. You can watch the latest Bollywood movie, read a book, just hang out with your friends, or even better, stalk others on Instagram.

But, obviously, my family had 'better' plans.

So that particular Sunday evening, I was stuck in some cousin's marriage, whose name I had never heard of until that fated day, let alone actually spoken to. If you have ever visited a relative's marriage in India, you will know exactly what I am talking about.

You can see your ten thousand relatives there from all around the world asking you about just everything (even your personal life) and even if you manage to pass the scrutiny of the elders, there are always your parents who tell you to meet this one and that one-like 'meet Chitra maasi from US' or 'Vinay mama from Australia'. It's not like they are rude or anything. In fact, they are really sweet.

Too sweet.

They pull your cheeks and say the regular dialogue-"Oh my god! The last time I saw her, she was this tiny! And now look at her!"

Growth hormones.

But obviously I have to smile back sweetly and touch their feet for blessings.

Yes, I get American, Indian, Australian and all kinds of blessings.

And believe me; moving around in a heavily embroidered anarkali is not as easy as it seems...even after wearing converses underneath it!

After meeting the one hundred and thirty-ninth aunt who had landed from some unknown place (yes, I am counting), my head was spinning, and my eyes were continuously darting to the buffet at the end of the hall. They all looked so ready to serve it, but as my parents say and I quote, 'Its good manners to eat after half the guests have eaten.'

Sigh.

Amazing aromas came from the buffet line and I wondered whether they did it on purpose- you know, just stand there in black tuxedos behind delicious food under polished cloches way before we are allowed to eat. There were some guests here and there chewing on their food. I don't think their parents taught them the manners.

I spotted a chair in the corner and ran towards it before giving my legs a rest from all that marathon running. I closed my eyes melting into the new song they had tuned the loudspeakers to-'Chasing cars' my evergreen favourite.

"Hate these weddings, don't you?"

I looked up to observe the owner of that voice. My eyes fell on a tall, lean guy about my age with messy hair. He was wearing a black shirt paired with dark blue jeans.

Was he handsome? Yes!

Do I know him? No!

He pulled up a chair beside me and sat down, sighing heavily.

"Not exactly," I said answering curtly, considering the fact that I didn't know him at all. I was scanning the crowd in the large extensive hall searching for my idiot brother, who was supposed to be my hotspot tonight.

Back to the stranger beside me, he was looking at me awestruck.

"What?!" I snapped at him. I was never really the kind to enjoy someone staring at me.

"Nothing," he replied.

Well okay.

Summer evening, extremely hot, stuck in some cousin's wedding in a ridiculous anarkali (that makes it even hotter), strangers around me, can't find my parents, can't find my brother, can't even see the food I so want to pounce on and now, a stranger who was goggling me (though, he was handsome, I really didn't enjoy his staring).