Yours, With Love

And they meet

"That's my son.", Rajeev heard his dad's encouraging words as he entered the living space.

Rajeev and his parents lived in a massive estate on the outskirts of Indore after they had come here from Gwalior. While Rajeev's dad was an only child of his grandparents who lived in this estate, after Gaurav and Meeta's marriage, the entire family migrated to Gwalior, since Meeta was pursuing her PhD in a college there. And Gaurav being an ever-supportive husband, even back then simply assured his wife that he would take up a transfer in his company for being with her.

Long story short - our Rajeev was born and brought up in Gwalior, and flourished professionally and personally there itself. For vacations, the family would sometimes visit Indore, but after Rajeev's grandparents passed away, the frequency gradually diminished until they completely quit coming - school, college, career - we often get entangled in these things and get distanced from the places we find relaxing. Nothing intentional, but well, things happen.

It was only after that incident which massively changed Rajeev's life, and honestly, that too because the society had very conveniently and decidedly interfered in his private affairs, that they thought of coming back to Indore.

Two years prior, when Rajeev was admitted in the hospital for the workplace accident, his wounds had healed quickly, but he had sustained some internal injuries which had led to him being rendered infertile. A thorough and entire body check-up was conducted for Rajeev after he had healed from the physical wounds, and the results led to this discovery.

Rajeev was devastated to say the least. And that was honestly because he was absolutely fond of kids. He loved kids - infants, toddlers, young kids - all of them. This man practically had the patience of a mountain when it came to handling kids, and any of their tantrums and which is why Rajeev bhaiyya (elder brother) was massively popular in his neighbourhood back in Gwalior where kids literally flocked around him.

One day he wished to have a happy little family of his own - his parents, his wife's parents, his wife and their wonderful kids. It was as though someone had cast an evil spell on this wholesome dream, and Rajeev was completely shattered.

He never had any relationships in his entire life, he was never inclined in that direction. First it was school, then college and studies, and then his work. Relationships were never his cup of tea, and call him a bit old school, but our Rajeev longed for a relationship like his parents - meeting through an arranged marriage set up and then falling in love over time - deeply, madly, ardently.

But what about marriage after all of that?

Rajeev's attending nurse in the hospital happened to be a relative of one of his neighbours, supposedly close neighbours. And when she came to know of what had happened to him post his accident - his infertility, she just could not keep things to herself. She blurted out and gossiped with those relatives of hers, and they in turn gossiped about this with the entire neighbourhood.

There we go - almost everyone in Rajeev's vicinity came to know of his infertility. And then came some vicious talks of belittlement, upto the extent of questioning his masculinity, and some taunts here and there. As though anything of this had been his fault. And as though anything of this should even matter to anyone except Rajeev and his parents.

But no, what society it would be, if it did not poke its nose into someone else's matters and if it did not have its fun at the expense of someone else's sufferings. No, neither Rajeev nor his parents technically expected anyone to be understanding, I mean, they should have been considering how close they were as neighbours once, but making fun of things as such?

How do people even stoop to such a level?

So what happened next was, any proposal which were to come Rajeev's way thanks to the ideal matrimonial profile that he had, was successfully driven away by the talks and rumours concerning his infertility.