What is your weirdest experience as an adult?

Mudassir Ali
Dec 25, 2019 02:28 PM 0 Answers
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What is your weirdest experience as an adult?

Mudassir Ali
- Dec 25, 2019 02:28 PM

My family- mom, dad and 4 years younger sister.

My boyfriend, his family which includes father, mother and 2 elder sisters.

My mom- she became my friend at 14–15 years of age. We are very very close. We share adult jokes with each other and know everything about each other.

My dad- I’m a typical daddy’s girl. I’m his first daughter so he has pampered me a lot.

My sister- she was very irritating when she was a teenager but gradually we became friends.

My boyfriend- I’ll tell you about him while I write

His mother- a very cool lady. She’s the coolest mom ever but she’s very possessive of her son. When her son started going to school she joined that school as a teacher herself.

His father- a wonderful personality. He’s like a father to me as well. He heads Mergers division in a reputed bank headquartered in Mumbai. He was a buddy to his son. His and aunty’s marriage was out of love. Not an arranged one. Every weekend when he would fly back to Delhi, he would ask his son whether he has a girlfriend or not and would pull his leg for not having one.

Didu 1- she’s 8 years elder to him. Loves him like a mother. Very protective of him. Pampered him a lot. She’s also a bit strict and more disciplined than the other sister. Professionally she’s a dentist.

Didu 2- 7 years elder to him. Loves him like a mother too. But she’s more careless and fun. She’s the life of every party.

I was born in Delhi just like my father. But we moved to Nashik when I was 2.5 because my father had some good business opportunities there.

My boyfriend, let’s call him Duke, lived in Delhi with his family. His father used to stay in Mumbai for 5 days a week due to his work. He would come home every Friday and leave on Monday.

My grandfather passed away when I was 16, a month before my class 11 final exams. My grandma was alone in Delhi. Dad decided to move back. By mid March that year, we had shifted.

I faced a huge problem here. I couldn’t get admission in good schools. They rarely gave admission in 12th grade.

My dad and my boyfriend’s dad had common social circle before we left. And also occasionally they would speak over phone. My dad turned to him for help, he asked us to consider it done. His wife, my boyfriend’s mother was a teacher, she convinced the chairman to give me admission. Everything went well. School began and the routine started.

My boyfriend is one year older than me. He had just given his 12th boards. Some 2 months later, results were announced. He scored wonderfully. He had some 95%.

We were invited by his parents to celebrate. We both had the same stream in 12th. So while I was there I was on a call with a class mate and was explaining her something, it was when I met him. He interrupted me because I said something illogical and he was correcting me. We ended up talking, I congratulated him. I asked him if I could take his help doing accounts. He gave me his number.

After a while, we started talking over phone. I would ask him doubts. He would clarify most of them.

One day he got irritated and asked me if I paid attention in class 11th at all. I confidently said yes. He asked a few questions and made me realize how weak were my basics. I cried for help. He agreed to teach me on weekends.

By this time we had become friends. He would come over on weekends, sometimes alternating, we studied, discussed random things, found out more about each other. Soon we were best friends. Like in 7 odd months.

Our parents became friends too. Our fathers already were, our mothers got acquainted quite well. I built a rapport with his sisters too. All in all it was wonderful. Before moving, my mother was worried about adjusting in Delhi, her new friend made it easier.

It was January, I clearly remember, 2 months before my boards, when I realised he meant more to me than just best friends. After struggling with myself for a month, I wrote it on the backside of my notebook and gave it to him. He did not react at all. He assured me he’ll talk about it after my boards. But it was killing me now. I was getting these bad feelings that he doesn’t feel the same and I’ll lose my best friend too. He sensed it and challenged me to beat his boards score and if I’m able to then he’ll take me out on a date. He challenged the wrong girl.

After my boards ended, I texted him to remind about our pending talk.

He told me it wasn’t easy at all. Our families our friends. The biggest problem was the women in his life. He said he’ll have to convince them first. He confessed he had feelings for me too but convincing the three women in his life was his concern.

Every time he tried talking to one of them, he would end up failing. I had enough. I spoke to Didu 2 myself. I told her everything. She was happy about it. It wasn’t that difficult at all. All went well. Soon, all three were happy about it. Then he suggested that he should take my father’s permission first. I told my mom. She talked to my dad. So when he wanted to talk to my dad, my dad knew and didn’t say anything.

When we met next he was quieter than usual and blushed occasionally. I was getting irritated. I asked him if he wanted to take the Prime Minister’s permission now.

His reply made me blush. He said he was trying in his head to tell me how much he loved me. He was very romantic. We were both a sufi couple at heart who believed in old school romance. So finally, I had my first boyfriend. Then began the best phase of my life. We would meet, have fun. He became a part of my friend circle. Everything was normal. Our parents knew about us, we were focused in our lives, we had each other.

He was more than what I could ask for.

When my sister got sick, he drove us all to the hospital where she was diagnosed with dengue. He would take turns with us to stay there for the entire night. We had accepted each other’s family as well. My grandma was fond of him.

I love rajma chawal, he learnt to cook that for me. We were a very happy couple. We knew we were meant to be together, meant to end up together.

He was 22 when he qualified and became a CA. I still remember. He was nervous checking his results. His hands were shaking. He asked me to check. And he passed. Soon he got a high paying job and he also started investing in the share market.

On the other hand, I got placed in a reputed firm and landed a decent package for a commerce graduate.

A few months later, it was the new year. I told him I wanted to visit Paris this year. So we made a pact and started saving for it. Every month I would give him my savings to invest in the market. Also, we had planned to meet more of our relatives so that they give us cash. We had enough money soon. We booked a 5 day stay around my birthday. Everything was planned by him meticulously.

Paris is beautiful. But it’s all together different when you visit with the person you love the most. At 12 AM on my birthday, he arranged the cliché cake and wine. But he did something that irritated me.

He connected my family via Skype. I hated it. I wanted to kiss him after cutting the cake. But I couldn’t. Also, my grandma got emotional about her granddaughter turning 21 and all. It killed my mood to kiss him. I slept fuming.

But the following day had the most unexpected thing in store. We visited Eiffel in the evening. He got down on one knee and asked me to marry him, near the foot of the Eiffel. There’s nothing more romantic. I said yes. An instant yes.

When we returned, I was excited to show my ring to my mother only to find out they already knew.

We had an engagement party in a few days. Our families left it to us. We had to decide when we wanted to get married. We were quite young but had also been together for more than 4 years. We hadn’t come to a conclusion yet.

A few days later, my grandma got sick during the night. A night that I want to delete from my life. Dad and mom took her to a hospital nearby in the car. Almost an hour later, at 3 AM, dad called me to bring grandma’s stuff to the hospital. She had been admitted. I was very scared. I didn’t want to go alone. I called Duke. He calmed me down and told me he’ll come with me. I got all her stuff and was waiting at the door. He got late which was very unusual of him and also given the situation. I called, to no avail. His phone was off. This scared me. I composed myself and decided to drive, since dad had called me twice to ask if I had left. When I reached, I saw a very worried version of my father waiting at the reception. I handed him the stuff and he went in. Just that moment I got a call from Duke. But it wasn’t him.

It was another guy telling me that the owner of this phone has met with an accident. And he’s taking him to the ___ hospital. Since I was the last dialed number, he called me. I panicked. I told my father. He called his parents.

I reached there as quickly as I could. His parents came 10 minutes later. His sisters were married by then. So didu 1 was already there with her husband since she lived close to that hospital. The sight there shocked me. He was in blood. His sister crying her eyes out, she was howling. Nobody could bear that sight. Soon didu 1 fainted and had to be given glucose. His father was trying to be brave and was holding his mother. Didu 2 was howling now. The doctor came soon. The next we got an update was 7 something hours later, he had multiple fractures, huge amount of blood loss and was unconscious. There were so many needles in his body. I don’t know what was he feeling. I knew that was when my life ended for me.

I wanted to pray, I wanted to hold his hand. I couldn’t think at all. I was not in my senses. At times I couldn’t believe if everything around was actually happening or it was a hallucination. A phone call from my dad disturbed my thoughts, my grandma had ulcers but the doctor asked us not to worry about.

On the other hand, here, the doctor told us the chances are very slim. He faced the wrath of didu 2 there.

I didn’t want to give up. His mother didn’t want to give up. We decided to fight. I decided to pray. I told God, if anything were to happen to my love, I will stop believing in God. I was helpless.

His body wasn’t responding. Almost 30 hours later there was no improvement at all. We were asked to leave. Only 2 of us could stay there. I didn’t want to move. But my dad took me away promising to bring me back in a few hours.

This occurred to me on my way to my house, I killed him, I was responsible for what happened to my love. If I would’ve gathered a little courage to go alone, he would still be alive.

For the next few hours I didn’t want my phone to buzz. I didn’t want to receive a call from them. I wasn’t ready for anything. But God wasn’t listening to me that day and soon my world collapsed. He couldn’t fight anymore. He left. He broke his promise to be with me forever. He left me incomplete.

I don’t recall what happened for the next 40 something hours. I was hospitalized, not in my senses at all.

He had been cremated when I regained my senses.

He wasn’t there anymore. He became a mere memory. My love passed away. The next few days were the most difficult. Some days I couldn’t sleep. I tried to eat but threw up everytime. Gulping down food had become a mammoth task for me. Some days when I could sleep, I would wake up at odd hours in a trauma. I would see my love in my dreams, sitting with me. The most weird thing about those dreams were that we would have conversations that we actually had at place A but we’re at place B in the dream. On some days I would talk on my phone for hours thinking it was him on the other side.

I don’t remember how many days later, I packed my stuff and moved into his house. I stayed in his room for the first 2 days. I had to move to another room. Because I couldn’t adjust to the fact that he wasn’t there. I kissed him for the first time in his room. We had spent so many moments together there as best friends, as lovers, as a betrothed couple.

I stayed there for almost a year trying to take care of his mother. Some nights she would cry howling like anything, some nights it was me. His father was better than us. He would only cry in the bathroom.

Time doesn’t heal everything. But it does teach us to live in the absence of the one who’ve left us.

Both the fathers tried to convince me to move ahead with my life. I didn’t have the strength to move on.

His father got me a job. The best thing about my job were the working hours.

I had to work for 15 hours a day. It was the best thing for me. For those 15 hours my mind was occupied. I would work on weekends too. The conversations with my love hadn’t stopped in my dreams. Some nights I would still end up crying. My parents decided to send me to a therapy. There I learnt to control my emotions. I had a control on most occasions on my tears.

This was almost 2 years after his death, my dad suggested me to apply for international secondment. The company had a policy regarding it. I applied and was asked by our Amsterdam office to join. So I spent 6 months there. Met a wonderful guy, very helping, very generous. He asked me out but I couldn’t get myself to agree to it.

My parents started to look for a groom upon my return. I also met prospectives. I met more than 15 guys of whom only 2 made it to the point where I told them about my past. One of them told me he can’t accept me. The other one wanted to marry his love after listening to my past.

A few months later they found a guy. My love’s father recommended. Our families got acquainted and everything was normal. Soon I decided to tell him everything. He told me he likes me and assured that I’ll get out of my past if I accept him. That is what I cannot do.

After I got engaged with my love, I had planned our wedding. I had planned our first sex. I had mentally given myself to him. I knew our bodies belong to just us. How could I give myself to someone who wasn’t him. To someone who didn’t have anything common with my life.

When I was meeting the prospective grooms, I would notice similarities between them and my love. Someone made his sideburns just like my love, someone’s fingers were like my love’s, someone’s habit of knowing random facts was like my love’s, but what dawned on me every time was that they weren’t him.

Now, this guy has agreed to marry me. My parents are happy about it. I know they want me to be happy. This guy said that we can get married and I can take as much time I want. But what if I’m unable to come out of my past, what if I’m unable to give him what he would get from someone who’s not a prisoner of her past.

Next week is when the families will meet to fix a date for engagement. I don’t know what should I do.

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