you think planning a wedding is hard?
try planning a wedding for your ex-boyfriend whom you still love dearly.
Throw in a brutal break-up, mixed emotions, an arrogant CEO and soulful Urdu shayaris and you got yourself a story.
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Diya x Ishaan, Boo...
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money cannot buy happiness, but neither can love
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Restless.
Never felt this restless, not even when we had a minor recession hit the industry, or when I was siick with flu and had not gone office for a week. From the moment I disconnected the call with the wedding planner, my mind was only imagining scenarios I should not be paying attention to. The dinner at the Mathur's table was as always, silent and grave, like it was a funeral dinner and this evening was no different than the others.
The dining table was huge, but we were a nuclear family. My mother seated on one end, my father on the other end, and both of them as close as the sea and the sky. They looked beautiful just as the horizon, but in reality, it was an illusion. My sister Naina, and I were thankfully the only ones in the family who acted like one. She sat to my left, in the middle of the dining table, away from both of the Mathurs.
Honestly, I like dining alone, that is the only time I am able to process who I really am. But Naina insisted to have dinner with her sometimes and having dinner with her means to sit with my two not so in love parents. My mother was going on about the wedding, while my father on the other hand was enjoying his meal, silently without any inputs to give in the discussion.
"Naina, how is your practice going?"
"It is going good," Naina chirped, smiling at us, "do you know, in the last practice, we had this hilarious..."
"Focus on the competition," Mom interrupted her, the smile on Naina's face dropped instantly, and while I frowned, Naina lowered her gaze. "I need another medal from you, Mrs Wadia's daughter is already won two of those. You know the reason you compete is to win."
With that our mother went on and on with her lecture, but I nudged my sister and winked at her, "ignore her, I always do." I whispered making her smile, "and it's not about winning, it is about..."
"Giving your best,"
"Exactly,"
Naina felt better, and continued eating, and I focused on my plate, not wanting to eat anything. My appetite was lost, my entire mind was lost in the words I heard earlier. Here our mother was guiding us to boredom with her high society prep speech, there I was worried about Diya's mother, thinking about the worst.
"Ishaan, Shyra told me that she wanted to take you to shopping for the engagement, and you denied?" My mother looked at me sternly. I guess it was my turn for some prep talk. "Spend some time with her, get the media on their toes and enjoy some paparazzi." She said, and I managed to hold the urge to roll my eyes. "Also, stay away from that middle-class girl, she is bad news, I tell you."
The mere mention of Diya made me senseless, and I held the knife, gripping it as Naina nervously shifted besides me.
"What girl?" My father spoke, although he may be quiet most of the times, his voice was still firm enough to gather attention, "Ishaan?"
