A Bowl Full of Lies
Everything about her was a lie.
But of course, he didn't know that when he fell in love with her at that dinner party.
The one he had not wanted to go to because his mother, eager for him to get married, would push girls towards him. But for that party, she had promised she wouldn't. And she didn't. The moment they had reached the party, she had been busy with her friends, leaving him alone.
He had seen Deepa, looking ethereal in a pastel blue shalwar kameez, talking to her friend. It was as if God had seen the template he had in mind for a wife and created Deepa. She read the same books, saw similar movies, and her favourite colour, blue, matched with him.
Raghav couldn’t believe he had found his perfect one. She even agreed to whatever he said.
“Yes, of course,” from Deepa's lips had become his favourite phrase to hear.
Things progressed rapidly, and Raghav proposed within two months of meeting Deepa. His mother objected to the haste, to which he reminded her that since she had been the one hounding him to get married for the past two years, she now had no grounds to object.
A week before D-Day, Raghav decided to treat Deepa to a dish he loved, mushroom soup. He thought he knew Deepa well enough that she would enjoy whatever he ordered. Thus, without asking Deepa, he ordered two bowls.
Raghav saw Deepa hesitate for the first time as the bowls were placed before them.
Thinking it was nerves, he chuckled. “Eat up! You will need stamina to keep up with me.”
Blushing at his words, Deepa picked up the spoon. She had taken a couple of mouthfuls before Raghav realized something was wrong. Alarmed, he asked, “Are you ok?”
Carefully, she placed her spoon down before whispering through lips that were now swelling up, “I am allergic to mushrooms.”
“Allergic! Why did you not say so earlier?”
“I did not want you to call off our wedding.”
Flabbergasted, Raghav stared. “Who calls off a wedding over mushroom soup?”
“Your mother said I should agree to everything you say before the wedding, or else you will call it off.”
Raghav's mind refused to believe what he had just heard. “But we match so well!” he said, baffled.
Embarrassed, Deepa replied, “I was told all your likes and dislikes before we met at the party by your mother. I just followed her instructions.”
“After the wedding, she will give me a part of my dowry to open a boutique,” she added.
Raghav slumped, unable to believe his mother had played him.
Deepa coughed. There was an audible rasp to her breathing.
He sighed. “Common, let’s get you to a clinic.”
“Yes, of course,” Deepa replied.
“You are a fan of Shahrukh Khan, right?” he asked, walking towards the car.
She shook her head, “Hrithik.”
Well, I have my whole lifetime to know the real Deepa, Raghav thought, taking a deep inhale of her perfume as they drove away.