But soon, this love, whose manifestation up until a while ago was squeaky platonic, began turning non-platonic. Feelings of possessiveness, of obsession and of jealousy began overpowering her.
Time slowed down, and we remained there for hours, almost falling asleep. The waves rose and fell, as if telling us its story, as if inviting us to stay with it and as if scolding us for not meeting with it earlier.
I don’t care much about labels too, and I wouldn’t name the title of this blog Pen Friends, if I didn’t have anything better – More like “I-Don’t-Know-What-Kind-Of-Friend” – But, that’s too long and unromantic anyway.
Natasha had taken the last line of my blog to heart, where I had said, that the easiest way to switch from being the daughter-in-law to the daughter, is to make the in-laws your parents.
She never got close to him, because at that time, boys and girls never spoke to each other like friends without inviting the stigma of being labelled boyfriend-girlfriend.
As if acting on a fully charged electric impetus, the moment that swish of scarlet sindoor was smeared on the parting of my hair, I took upon myself the role of the newly-wedded biwi – Blame it on my over-exposure to Bollywood or just my self-sketched character, I was on!
She is perfectly happy with her husband, and mind you, both of them are really attractive. They had gotten married to each other after a couple of months of whirlwind romance in college. Everything looked perfect from the outside – The customary Christmas cards from the couple, the vacations in Venetian Islands, and the adorable home they live in, where we got invited a lot to in the last year.