The Boundaries of Love

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~~Not edited~~

I have been editing stories, short stories, journals for the last three years. And I have no shame in admitting that I love doing it, even when I sometimes find some of them utter crap. Maybe that's my occupational hazard. 

By reading and editing them, one thing that I have learnt, every writer has depicted love in their way. But one thought upon which everyone seems to have agreed, is, one cannot define love, it just feels right with that one person, as if that two people are two puzzle pieces that fit perfectly together. How and when don't matter. But something is there, that you will want to take a plunge, not knowing where it will eventually lead. 

Same happened with Shravan and I. Though I still don't know why he wants to get married to me; but for me, it just feels right. 

I put my comb on the dressing table. I smile to myself, I kissed him, well a peck on the cheek; still, for me, it was a huge step to be taken at that moment. Now that I think, it came to me naturally, I had to do it. The way Shravan closed his eyes like he was holding his breath, made my heart warm. He didn't say anything after that. He mumbled a soft goodnight, and the moment I reach the main door, he drove away. 

Maa was happy to know that we went to select my ring. She even fussed over what she was going to get for her rich son-in-law. Papa was as usual frowning, but agreeing to everything Maa was saying. "They are going to come on this Sunday." She announced the moment I stepped into the house. "They will have lunch with us." She pointed her finger to my father, "and you are going to behave."   

"As if I have a choice." He mumbled and went back to the book he was reading.

My chain of thoughts break, when I hear a soft knock on my door. "Come in," I say. The door opens slightly and my brother peeks around it. "Bhaiya, you haven't slept yet?" 

"No. I wanted to talk to you." He comes inside, closing the door softly. My brother, Arnab has always been a very polite and quiet guy. I have never seen him shouting, or throwing tantrums. Rather I can act on my anger or whim, but he is always the level headed one. So if he wants to talk about something means, it's important. 

He walks towards my bed and motions his head at me to join him there. "Anything serious?"

"Outside, I mean," he thins his mouth, and looks straight at the wall, "I was standing at the balcony, I saw you, with him." He mumbled, clearly embarrassed about what he has seen.

"It was just a peck Bhaiya!" I laugh, at his reddened cheeks, "But this is not the reason you have come here, isn't it?" 

"You kissed him," when I arch my brows at him, he surrenders, "okay, just a peck. It means you like him too." I nod, "Yet you look confused, why?" 

I smile, Bhaiya can always see through the pretences. He never counter-attacks but he politely asks when no one is around. "I like him. But I am confused too. It's been just, what, merely 8 days?! And I like him way too much. Sometimes my mind alerts me against my emotions, asking me to take it slow. But the moment I am with him, I forget about everything, it's like he has an invisible power over me. And it's frustrating you know. 

"If I think carefully, there's nothing in common between us, yet it feels, I need to give him a chance, I need to know more about him. I have never been this reckless in my life. But with him, it's like a different world altogether. I want to know, why he wants to marry me, I want to know what future holds for, us . . . For him and I." after talking in one breath, I look at him, "In short I am confused. Because I don't know who to listen, my heart or my brain!"