“It’s my wedding today!”

When my mobile phone beeped I stretched my long fingers (Appu has never said, but my other friends have that they are artistic!)from under the cream quilt that my dad had bought from (I don’t know which part of the world…US? London? Brazil? Italy? oh not Italy, for he’s never been there) somewhere. My fingers chase the papers in aflutter from the loosely held clip file that I had placed carelessly on the nearby dressing table the previous night. Disappointed, my fingers return to the bed. A search here, a search there. Tisshshshshsh….or was it clingngngngg….or dishshshshsh..The sound is inconsequential in this context. The only thing that bothers me is I have to reach for the bed lamp (argh! That piercing feel you get with lights on when you have been sleeping like you don’t know for how long).With half opened right eyes and fully shut left eye I scan the granite floor. Delivery successful. Battery out! I take the three pieces from the floor and in an unscientific temper reorganize my phone to its self. Mobile switched on. Eyes shut. Hands extend to touch each other on my mobile screen. I hear the welcome note. Services active. I press the message tab. ‘Processing on. Please wait’ I am impatient. Time is 4.00 am.

My inbox is almost full. The new message is from Appu.  “what the hell yaaar!!!”..I read the message.

“To the most unromantic person on earth…Have a great day!”

Hahaa..I smile for some five seconds. I am awake. “You too have a great day!” Even before realizing, I have pressed the done button. "Oh,Should have typed some thing more...”

I lie on my tummy and rest my forehead on Billy. I have my right hands around Billy. Billy is warm and never complains that my hug is suffocating. I press Billy hard. “Appuuuu”, I swallow the words. My ammoomma is lying near me at far end of the bed. I don’t want to wake her up. Today is no ordinary day for me. I don’t know what I should be thinking now. I know from this night onwards I’ll be…Smriti herself…but Smriti with tags attached. Tags of a new family, new home, new neighbours, new paint, new plates, new carpets, new curtains, new rooms, new smells, new tastes, new sights, new touches, new sounds and a man.

       I roll on my left side and stare aimlessly at my ammoomma’s back. I owe my long hair to this Rapunzel, my fair skin to her genes, and my looks to her youth. How would have she felt fifty years back? I feel like waking her up. A girl’s fears on her wedding day will not have undergone much change down the lineage. May be I was getting emotional. From the tom boy I had been for eighteen years to my up gradation to a fiery college goer, a go-getter, to my ammoomma orchestrated transition into a lovely young lady(my ammoomma had put her bets on my looks and she could never fail), I was always my Ammoomma’s Vaachi. I had never overgrown her hugs, caresses and love. Vaachi, Appu would tease me, sounded like a baby. Yes, Vaachi was short for vavachi, vava, a slang for baby. I would retort Appu was no better...ehhh.. Appu was filling my thoughts.

Suddenly, I feel like messaging him. A friend knows you better than others. He would have words for me. I want him to message me. I just press the unlock tab on my mobile.  I smile back at me from the mobile screen. I check if there is network. Yes. 4.17 am. The background light fades away. I am unusually awake at this time.

Appu was a coincidence in my life. A miracle I was waiting to happen. I noticed this handsome six footer(later he corrected me…he is 5’11’’) at the Mumbai airport when I was sitting at the café coffe day outlet on the first floor. I saw him ordering samosas from an outlet on the ground floor. When I turned to pay the bill, I lost him in the crowd. I did not see him later till he came and sat on the aisle seat while I was at the window seat. That was coincidence 1.“OMG..” I was immediately pre-planning, planning and dreaming. I should walk to the lavatory twice or thrice (oops…he might think I have some bladder trouble.) Any other options? I stole  some glances at him. He was reading a book as if the pilot would take off only if he finished it. The middle seat was vacant. An aunty in her fifties send from heaven came and asked me “Suniye beti…I had an operation recently.Can I take the window seat?” Coincidence 2. Like a frog I jumped into the middle seat. Flight takes off. Appu was lost in his world. I was lost in a world where my thoughts were revolving around this guy. I was getting impatient. I do it. “Excuse me.” He looks up at me as I stand. Thud. My head hits the overhead cabin (This is the problem of being 5’6’’).  Coincidence 3.Co-passengers stare at me. The thud was that loud. I badly want to rub my head, but I don’t. I would have been most happy if the floor of the plane opened and sucked me into the air. I just walk into the lavatory with the air of walking into my own luxurious office room in Manhattan. There I do nothing but rub my head. I return. No “excuse mes”. Lesson learnt, I sit. “Are you fine?”(…well what…God you gotta be kidding.) I turn to answer. He has that smile I would love to possess. “Yup, I am.”

“Water?”

I try laughing.. “No.”

He returns to his book and I to mine. Book of life, of love, of dreams. Before long, I am disturbed. This time it’s my unruly digestive system. I puke. Coincidence 4. I want to cry, but I don’t. I want to die, but I don’t. I use my get well soon throw away; he offers his and that auntyji hers. Thank God the flight has landed. I want to run away from this dream boy. No parting byes, dreams shattered I rush out.

       At the baggage section I meet him again. “How are you?”

I reply coldly, “Not good.” I walked away from my coincidence charm. Three weeks later I met him at Supriya’s wedding. We exchanged greetings. We again met at the theatre. Found each other on facebook. Chatted. So he was, as per Ammoomma’s detailing, Venu uncle’s ammayi’s father’s chechi’s son’s wife’s kunjamma’s son. (In between, who is this Venu uncle? Ammoomma’s ammavan’s…I am lost).We became friends. Finally, I had someone whom my ammoomma had no problem me talking to. We would endlessly talk on trivial stuff, serious matters, guys, gals, crushes, disappointments, cheers, this, that, these and those. Suddenly he was an ordinary looking guy to me, not a diva, just a human whom I could endlessly relate to. After all, that is what friendship is.

       Beep…Beep…Beep. My alarm sounded. I turned it off. Ammoomma was slowly waking up. I left the comforts of my pillow that I had named Billy and hugged my ammoomma ‘the vaachi special’. I kissed on her cheeks. Today her vaachi was getting married. Entering a new phase in her life. Beep. This time it was a new message from Appu. I knew I was going to miss this from tomorrow onwards. A wake up message from him. I did not know what Appu was going through. I had not asked him if he would ever miss the madness in me that only a carefree Smriti could manage, dropping me at my home,  taking me out secretly for a ride, chatting at most weird times…

       The entire house is awake. It’s a big day ahead for me. I reply to Appu. “Don’t forget to make it for the wedding. You’ll always be cherished as my dearest friend!!! Stay the same.” I get out of the bed. “It’s my wedding today!” I tell myself. I am ready for the day, to say “Yes” to my man, to have the thaali around my neck, to wear the sindhoor and to spend the rest of my life with the man who had shared my dreams on the Mumbai-Trivandrum flight.