"I don't want to get married," I wailed.

  Baba did not pay me any heed and continued to beam.

  "I don't even know him properly, Baba," I said.

  "Does it matter, Mishti? You knew all your previous boyfriends for years, right? Nothing materialized out of your relationships. At least you know that Kabir is a decent guy. He will take care of you," said Baba.

  I hated that complacent tone of his. Sure, I had had my share of relationships, but that didn't mean I was ready for an arranged marriage. That too with Kabir, of all men! Just because he was Baba's best friend's son did not mean I was supposed to marry him. I couldn't care less if he was decent or not. As far as I remember, I had never liked Kabir.

  He would always take a patronizing tone with me whenever we met. Okay, I sucked at Math, and he had gotten 100/100 in his A-levels. But did that give him the right to laugh at me? I would often snap back to his retorts. Somehow, that would reach Baba's ears, and he would reprimand me for being impolite. I would be made to say sorry to the pompous boy afterwards. Argh! Why would I marry him? I would rather die. He was one of those few who could snap me out of my calm demeanor and make me mad. Imagine how irritating he must be if he could break my self-control… the self-control I had gained through years of practice. Baba proudly claimed that I was always responsible, kind, and well-mannered. And now he expected me to marry that same guy who made me feel snappy and irritable. I don't know why this thought had crept into Baba's mind, but he had been nagging me to go on a date with Kabir for a fortnight.

  Kabir, Kabir, Kabir! This was all that went on 24/7.

  I blamed Dinesh Uncle (Kabir's father) for bringing the proposal up. He seemed to believe in the age-old adage that "best friends should turn into family." I wanted to scream and tell the two old men that I did not like Kabir at all. But Baba would subject me to melodrama, and I did not want that. I loved him too much to cause him any trouble. By the looks of it, he would ensure that he coerced me into marrying Kabir because I had listened to him for the last 14 years…basically ever since Maa left us.

  As for my boyfriends that Baba just mentioned, I had nothing to say. I could not tell Baba that those relationships were casual and that I had never committed to any guy. I preferred flings because they allowed me to be myself without emotional entanglement. There was no need to worry about clinginess or being tied down with attachments. The point of casual relationships was that I didn't want to marry or move away from home. I couldn't bear to spend the rest of my life away from Baba and Meethi. I had finished my Ph.D. in a record 3 years just so I could return home sooner. I wanted to write, teach, and care for my family. My plan was all set. I didn't wish for marriage to derail anything.

  My beloved sister, Meethi, would always help me whenever I had to wiggle out of something ominous. But not this time! Meethi was devoted to Kabir. So, I would have to fight my battle alone.

  "Why don't you spend time with him?" suggested Baba. "You can at least eat a meal together, no?"

  I cut short my inner curses and nodded. It was futile to argue with him on this topic.

  "Meethi has made a dinner reservation for you both tonight," he winked.

  Could I feel any worse?

  "Baba, don't you want to have dinner with me?" I glared. "We have fish curry tonight, and you love it when all three of us eat fish together."

  "Tomorrow," he laughed. "I will get Joanna to cook fish again tomorrow."

  I had honed my ability to maintain a composed demeanor over an extended period, reaching a point of mastery. Despite any turmoil I might have been experiencing internally, my outward appearance consistently projected a sense of calmness. However, on this particular day, it appeared that Baba discerned my discontent with his decision. I noticed a hint of shame in his gaze as he looked at me.

  "Babli, give it a chance. I mean, you know that I couldn't refuse Dinesh directly. But I promise that if you completely set your mind against it, I won't force you either," he said.

  He knew my weakness so well. I could never give Baba a straight "no" for an answer.

  "Okay, Baba, I will go and eat dinner with him tonight," I mumbled.

  Baba looked elated. He gave me a peck on the forehead and reminded me that Kabir would pick me up at 8pm.

  Meethi cajoled me into draping a saree. "Di, you look so beautiful in that red chiffon one."

  "I am going to throw you out of the window, okay?" I warned her. She laughed and kissed my cheek.

  But somehow (and I don't know exactly how), I was wearing the red chiffon saree when Kabir rang the bell at 8pm.

  My father and sister were so excited that I thought some movie star had come in. However, I admitted grudgingly that Kabir looked dapper in the black suit he had chosen to wear. I could see why Kabir was so popular with people. He had a beautiful face. Immediately, I chided myself. No matter how good he looked, I had to ensure I nipped this marriage thing in the bud.

  But he did look so gorgeous!

  I stumbled to the main door, and Kabir caught me. "Be careful," he smiled.

  I could hear Meethi snigger. I wanted to turn around and glare at her. But I would have to wait until I returned from the wretched dinner date. And Meethi never cared about my glares anyway.

  Thank God Kabir did not waste time socializing with my family. We left in ten minutes.

  I struggled to get into the car, and he had to help me. I thanked him but was terrified that my saree might come off. I was supremely irritated already. I didn't know how I would get through the rest of the evening. I was prepared to be unsettled for the next couple of hours when Kabir got into the driver's seat, fastened his seat belt, and asked me, "So why don't you want to marry me, Mishti?"

  I looked up in shock. I hated to admit that he looked so damn good in the dim light inside the car. But that was not relevant now.

  "Ummm…" I gulped. I was nervous all of a sudden. His face had derailed my chain of thought.

  "Well, don't be so shocked! It is kind of obvious on your face," he laughed.

  "Kabir, you know…this whole arranged marriage setup is so dumb," I said. "I don't know how the two old men wrapped their heads around this ridiculous proposition," I mumbled.

  Kabir laughed. "They have been friends for years. You and I are the good kids of the family. Pairing us up would be their dream. And luckily for them, we both belong to the 90s demographic, who still listen to parents."

  I was sure he was making fun of the entire situation. I had to come clean with him.

  "Well, I am just not ready for marriage. I don't think I ever want to get married," I said.

  "Okay, that was extreme. Never say never. But then, are you dating someone?"

  "No, I am not. I broke up with someone a few months back."

  "Well, I am single, too."

  I didn't like his suggestive smile as he said that.

  "So, you didn't tell me why you don't want to marry me," Kabir prodded.

  Why was he hell-bent on hearing bad things about himself? I rarely spoke ill of anyone and never to their face. And he was again challenging one of the basic principles I had adapted over the years (be kind, always).

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  "Like I said, no marriage. I have a few things on my priority list, and marriage is not one of them," I mumbled.

  "You seem to have a specific problem with me as the potential groom," he winked.

  Okay, now he was inviting trouble.

  "We haven't been friends, have we? We barely know each other," I sounded ruder than I intended to.

  "I know you dated my third cousin Jitin for a while," laughed Kabir.

  Wow, what a mean thing to say! He seriously didn't want to go that way, right?

  "We were in school. It lasted for a couple of months. And you know Jitin is my bestie now," I snapped. Damn, he always tested my restraint!

  "Okay, don't get mad now. I was joking," he smiled.

  We finally reached the restaurant. I had trouble getting down again, and he had to help me. I hated sarees! Once we went in, I felt even worse. Everyone seemed to be so poised and dignified. I was scared I might make a fool of myself in this saree. I held Kabir's arm to hold my balance. He smiled again, and I cursed myself internally.

  We got seated, and I let go of him at once. We ordered some wine. Baba didn't know I drank. I imagined his face if he found out his favorite Kabir was ordering alcohol for me and suppressed a grin.

  "So, what do you want? I heard the chop suey here is heavenly," Kabir said while he looked through the menu.

  " I eat everything. That's not an issue. But dude, now that we know we both don't want to get married, we can issue a joint statement. I don't want those two old men to pester either of us," I said.

  Kabir looked up and looked at me for a few seconds. Then he said, "I don't think our parents will let us off the hook so easily; frankly, they will continue to badger us. One dinner, and they will forget about this match? I don't think so…they will at least force us to go on a few more dates. And frankly, I think it is a better proposition than meeting random strangers from matrimonial columns. At least, we have known each other for ages."

  I was genuinely confused.

  He guessed that I couldn't comprehend him. He bit his lip, probably to hide his smile.

  "Mishti, I understand that marriage might not be your top priority. However, I believe it would be beneficial for us to spend some time together before discussing our plans with our families. I have been considering the possibility of an arranged marriage. It could be a positive opportunity for both of us if you're open to it."

  Was he implying that we give this a chance? Or was he making fun of me like always?

  "Is this something kind of a sick joke?" I glared. "I just told you, right? I don't ever want to get married. It won't work out well for me."

  Kabir made a curious face. "Okay, can you tell me why?"

  I sighed.

  "Well, my father and my sister are my first priorities. I have managed the house for several years, and I don't think Baba and Meethi can do anything without me. And even if they try, I know they will still need me. And I love them too much…so I don't want to move away from them."

  "Interesting," Kabir said as he sipped his wine. "Anything else?"

  I glared. Well, he walked into this one right on his own.

  "I don't think I will ever fall in love. It just won't happen to me. I do not believe I have enough love to give someone anymore. I can shower my affections on just my family and a couple of friends. I don't have enough love to invite a new person into my life."

  I gained satisfaction with the confusion on his face.

  "Why would you say that?" he asked. "Bad breakup?"

  I laughed. "That’s an easy judgment to make. But no…I haven’t dated anyone seriously enough to have a bad breakup."

  "Then?"

  His curiosity was getting too much to handle.

  "I would like to keep that private for now, thank you," I snapped.

  Kabir smiled. "Okay, I am sorry. But it sounded rather surprising. If you have not dated anyone seriously enough, why would you call it quits before you actually feel what commitment and love feel like?"

  "I know what I want," I retorted. "And I do not need to explain it to anybody."

  He pursed his lips. "Okay, change of topic...but I feel I am the solution to all your problems then."

  What was he trying to say exactly?

  "Mishti, I think it is pretty obvious. I live two blocks away from you. We have known each other for years. We could spend a week at my place and a week at yours. I guess that's not a bad deal. We could take care of both families together, so your condition of staying close to Uncle and Meethi is checked off the list," said Kabir. "I hate that only women are expected to move into their in-laws' place. Flexibility is the solution. Why should a girl be expected to make all the compromises? It's utterly uncool."

  Did he really mean this? Was he really this progressive, or was he trying to sound cool?

  "All right, even if I believe you…what about the other condition?" I smiled. "I mean, why would you ever marry someone who openly states that she won't fall in love…it doesn't make sense."

  I knew I had hit the mark. Baba didn't realize I had decided to use this bomb on anyone he coerced me to meet. I would tell them I was unwilling to fall in love with my potential partner, and who would agree to a match after that?

  "Oh…that's what is most appealing to me. I'm drawn to the concept of an arranged marriage because I like straightforward relationships free from heavy emotional entanglements. For the last few years, my career demanded everything I had to give, leaving little room for anything else. And honestly, I have never had time for a romantic attachment. And I don't know if I have it in me now to delve into romance. Choosing an arranged marriage provides the opportunity for a relationship based on compatibility and ideals in common, as opposed to the turbulent rollercoaster of intense love that might result in unanticipated complications and grief."

  "So, what are you looking for?" I asked sarcastically.

  Kabir smiled (he looked stunning, if I may add). "I want someone who can be my friend. To see me for who I am, to accept me for who I am. A great friendship is a solid foundation for any relationship. Especially in a marriage, being friends with your partner is so important. At the end of the day, you need to laugh, cry, and share your burdens with someone who understands you. And you would do the same for them. "

  "Explain further, please," I said, immediately realizing he had made me curious.

  He smiled. "Eventually…if we decide to continue seeing each other…if you agree that I fulfill your conditions," Kabir smiled. "I understand your devotion to your family and support your notion that romantic love can be painful. Choosing a friend as a life partner is often wiser because when romantic love fades, the companionship and friendship truly endure. It's about stability and shared values, something I value deeply. That's why I'm certain I want to pursue an arranged marriage."

  "But you don't know me well enough as a friend either," I said. "You just know that I am Mishti Mukherjee and dated your third cousin in high school and sucked at Mathematics."

  "I also know that you are an incredible Ph.D. scholar. You are about to start an academic career and seem pretty happy," winked Kabir.

  "Not enough information to lead a life together," I mumbled.

  "Well, I agree. That is also a reason why I want to get to know you. Befriend you and discover more about you," he said. "Maybe we are quite attuned to how we see life despite our differences."

  It didn't make sense, still. But at least I knew him somewhat. Otherwise, Baba would bring guys from matrimonial sites straight into our living room. I shuddered at the thought. And well, at least Kabir was a debonair …which is a trait I couldn't guarantee in the mollycoddled Bengali guys of our London community.

  "Kabir, what is wrong with you? I mean, you really want to give this a chance?" I asked. I could feel my initial resistance break down slowly, which shocked me.

  "Yes, Mishti. We have spent all our childhood fighting or ignoring each other. I think we can try to change that now. I am not saying that we have to get married. I am saying that we should give our friendship a chance. Then, we can hopefully decide if we want to take it further," explained Kabir.

  I didn't know what to say.

  "Come on, Mishti. We might as well give it a shot with each other. At least we wouldn't have to meet unknown people from matrimonial sites," he smiled. "Think of it as an arranged courtship. If nothing else, we may warm up to each other more by the end."

  He sounded genuine, and perhaps he was right. My vehement refusal resulted from my past prejudices against him and the fact that I didn't want to move away from Baba and Meethi. However, I knew Baba would try to set me up with someone or the other from the Bengali community. Apparently, that's what Maa would have wanted... to see me as a beautiful Bengali bride. I wish I really knew what Maa would have wished for me. It had been 14 years, and I still missed her every day. Not that I told anyone about it.

  But coming back to the main point, marriage seemed like an omnipresent discussion at home these days. Unfortunately, Baba would pester me to meet countless guys if I turned down Kabir immediately. And that was one exercise I wished to avoid. It hadn't crossed my mind previously. However, when Kabir broached the topic today, I realized that declining him outright would likely lead to worse propositions in the marriage scene.

  I shouldn't judge Kabir, I contemplated as I sipped my wine. Perhaps he was a changed person. I didn't have to give him a "no" just then. I could think things through. At least, with Kabir, I would practically be at home all the time. He was right. But what about the fact that he always seemed to see through my charade of the perfect girl? He knew what I felt inside, even when I wore the practiced mask of calmness. Wasn't that risky? To hang out with someone who could see what you were hiding in your heart?

  But there was something sincere about how he said we could care for our families. Usually, men never saw past their own needs. At least Kabir knew how much I loved my family. However, I was uncertain whether he was merely putting on a progressive facade or if he genuinely meant what he said about the families. I had to dig it further.

  But he was incredibly attractive! I mean, that counted for something, too! After years of casual flings, I knew how important physical attraction was for me. And well, Kabir was a total of 10 in this department.

  "Okay, I get it," I mumbled. "You have a point."

  Kabir smiled. "Okay, I am glad you agree. Thanks."

  We ate silently, mainly because I had nothing to say anymore. Kabir understood. We discussed random things at intervals, and I didn't know what I was saying. I was still confused. I had been totally prepared to turn him down, but somehow, we had decided to befriend each other. I had not anticipated that he would turn my opinion 180 degrees around. Oh, wait…he had a law degree from Cambridge. How could I underestimate his convincing powers?

  We drove back home, and when I finally got down after some more hassle, Kabir suddenly gave me a light peck on the cheek.

  "Thanks for the wonderful evening, Mishti. I will see you soon. Think of what we could do when we hang out the next time," he smiled and drove off. "That would be our first official date."

  I touched my cheek and stood dumbstruck. I could only gape and wonder at the turn of events, which would undoubtedly make my Baba the happiest man on Earth.