She called off our engagement. She simply hung up, denying me a chance to apologise. Seven years of friendship, five years of love, ended with a mere phone call. What a parallel cinema way to end a candy floss love story!
Year 2012 could have been the best year of my life. It was going perfect. I had met her parents in February. They loved me. My family loved her. All that was left, was to finalise a date, which could only be decided by their most trusted astrologer. A sixty year old scum bag whose wife and son had disowned him, after which he swore to ruin every other life. The moment he saw me he spoke in a manner that could make politicians sound poetic. Apparently, our horoscopes didn’t match. Apparently I would have divorced her in a year. All of a sudden his fake philosophies started dominating my real emotions. The worst part, her father’s expressions clearly stated that he was about to reject me. Patience was a virtue I never possessed and in a fit of rage I asked him to fuck off. Using the exact words.
Uttering cuss words in front of a rural Brahmin family wasn’t a great idea. Her astrologer found new points to defend his accusations against me. She fought hard. From my educational qualifications to my salary, from my family history to my career prospects, she quoted everything that could have convinced even the harshest people. Alas! People blinded by superstitions can never see the real picture. They in turn tried to convince her to stay away from me. And on a warm afternoon of March 2012 she succumbed.
That was the day I made a New Year resolution to never utter blasphemous words. One might say that March is a bit too late for a resolution, but for me, that day marked the beginning of a new year. Or should I say a new life!
The following nine months posed the toughest challenge of my life. Simply because I couldn’t even slander her family or that scum bag to feel better.
So, here I am on the last day of 2012, attending a dear friend’s wedding. She was invited too. That was the only reason I had decided to step out of my cocoon. But she didn’t come. Probably to avoid me. This infuriated me. I had sacrificed an integral part of my vocabulary for her family and they won’t even give me a second chance. Just then a friend of mine walked up to me to console me. Sympathy was something I hated more than the astrologer. The nine month long drought was about to end. I looked at her and said, “I don’t need your fucking advice. She, her family and that fucking astrologer can rot in hell”.
Wow! That felt nice. Oh dear slang, I missed you! With a lighter heart I turned to leave. And there they were, my ex fiancée standing with her parents, flabbergasted at my outburst. I smiled as the tears of sorrow rolled down. And all I could say was, “What the”.