A Date!?

The next sun arrived with the new day Zaranya and Kartik were out on their bet-based running and on the other hand their mother Simran was busy cooking in the kitchen, and father Sameer was engrossed in reading the newspaper. The phone suddenly rang breaking the silence, Sameer picked up the call.

"Hello" an old familiar voice spoke sending a chill down Sameer's spine. "Hello, Mr. Roy, how are you?" Sameer replied calm and composed.

"How are Simran and Kartik?" Mr. Oberoi asked.

"Everyone is sound and healthy. It’s all your blessings, sir," Sameer said, while Simran walked out of the kitchen with a cup of tea in her hand and noticing Sameer on the call, she walked slowly towards him. Sameer decided to put the call on speaker.

"How is that little brat" Mr. Roy inquired from the other side.

"Yes, she is doing her morning prayers, then she will leave for college sooner," Sameer replied.

The call soon came to an end, leaving Sameer and Simran sharing worried glances. "We shouldn't waste any more time and get Zaranya married as soon as possible," Simran stated.

"I want my children to live a normal life. I will not let them even catch a glimpse of my girl," Simran said, her eyes revealing a mixture of pain and resentment. “We should let Zaranya decide when the time comes” Sameer suggested “Sameer she is still small for making decisions, or we can send her abroad for her further studies” she argued back. “Simran, what do you think I don’t care for Zaranya…”

“No, it’s not like this, I just.” Simran looks at Sameer with sad eyes. “Everything will fall in its place, don’t worry. The decision should be hers to make. She deserves to know everything sooner or later” Sameer hugged her.

Zaranya and Kartik dashed towards the house, gasping for breath, both of them determined to see who would touch the main gate first. Zaranya's legs felt like jelly, sweat was trickling down her scalp, and her breath was coming in short bursts. It had been months since she had done any serious running.

She was more of a yoga person than a runner, while Kartik was a running beast. She was almost there, just an inch from the main gate and Kartik touched it first, swinging it open, and barged inside. And Zaranya? She was sprawled out on the floor.

Her legs felt like they were on strike. She was disgustingly sweaty, and honestly, the whole ordeal was Eww. Zaranya's parents exchanged a look and shook their heads, silently conveying that they saw this coming. They had cautioned her not to go running.

"You guys go for a run one day and then rest for a week," her father remarked, half-amused and half-concerned.

Kartik extended his hand to help her up, a smirk playing on his lips. Fuck! she couldn't believe she fell in front of Kartik. No matter how princely he acted, they were still siblings, and moments where he could outdo her gave him immense satisfaction. Because being the older one, Zaranya usually had the upper hand.

"No thanks, I can stand up on my own," getting back up with a disgusted expression. "And then girls wonder why they're single," he teased. ‘Wait! did he just roll his eyes at me? How dare he’. She swiftly grabbed his ears and gave them a playful twist, making him wince in pain.

"Aa Moommm!!" He glared at her.

"Don't you dare roll those eyes at me, and I have my own share of dating experiences, so shut the heck up," she retorted.

"Right! That's why we're still finding a perfect groom for you. Can't you just fall in love and get out of this house? Mom and dad have already given you freedom, but you're the only one here who hasn't even held a guy's hand except for mine," he taunted igniting a spark of anger within her.

"You need some good—"

"YOU BOTH GO AND FRESHEN UP WITHIN HALF AN HOUR AND JOIN US ON BREAKFAST," Simran’s voice boomed, her glare making it clear that she meant business. Meanwhile, her dad seemed to be rather disinterested in their ongoing banter. With that, Kartik sprinted up the stairs, and Zaranya blinked, taken aback by how easily he managed to escape her grip. She knew he could, given that he's not a child anymore but rather a guy towering at 180 cm (5'11 ft), while here she was at 5'2 ft, lamenting her lack of height.

"And we need to talk, Zaranya," her dad's voice took on a serious tone. She forced a smile, knowing exactly what this conversation would entail.

Later, Zaranya walked down the stairs wearing her old kurta and a pair of loungewear bottoms she had found somewhere in her closet. She probably looked like a homeless child right now, but the comfort of these slightly worn clothes was worth it.

She made her way slowly toward the sofa, where her parents were already seated, waiting for her.

"Appaa!" Her brother yelled near her ears, causing her to flinch. "Behave! you two," Simran scolded.

They all took their seats at the dining table. The food was served, and they began to eat in silence. It was awkward, Zaranya and Kartik exchanged a look, sensing the tension.

"Why is it so silent?" Kartik finally broke the silence.

"About yesterday, I'm sorry," Zaranya said, her gaze fixed on her plate.

"I don't understand why would you do that, Zaranya. It literally makes no sense. You are straight, so is your brother, and we support your stance that you can support LGBTQ+ but that doesn't mean you should go around asking such questions to everyone," her father's eyes bore into hers, his words piercing through her soul.

"But Appa, you know I can't stand it if my partner doesn't support me and it disgusts me when I see…"

"No more words," Simran intervened firmly. "Get ready by 11 am," Appa ordered abruptly.

"Why!?" She looked at him, puzzled, with a question mark written all over her face.

"I will send you the address. Go and meet another boy, and don't you dare bring up any homophobic discussion," he concluded firmly and left the table. After a few seconds, Zaranya received the address on her phone. His sudden statement left her astonished.

"Wear your maroon-colour suit and take your father's car," Simran instructed as she cleared the plates from the table. Zaranya glanced at her brother, who seemed to be in a ‘I don't give a fuck' mode.

And now here Zaranya stood in front of the mirror. Locking her room, she removed her clothes and stood there, gazing at her reflection. This old, worn mirror has witnessed her presence countless times, but today, as she stood there in just her bra and panties, something felt different.

She is no longer the chubby 16-year-old Zaranya who weighed over 58 kg at a height of 4'9 ft. It's not that she didn't love herself back then, but standing in front of the mirror used to fill her with shame. She was becoming overweight, and her self-image suffered. She tried to lose weight, and did manage to shed some pounds, but it always seemed like she ended up back in the same place after each diet. Everyone would tell her she wasn't overweight, that she was cute and chubby.

But no, it wasn't fine for her. Especially when she looked at her classmates, who not only had height on their side but were also slim and skinny. Inside, she was tormented by self-comparisons. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the feelings of envy and self-criticism. She was introverted, had barely any friends, and was the stereotypical nerd with round glasses, chubby cheeks, and a small build. She resented that version of herself.

And now, after years, she stands once again in front of the same mirror. This time, she without her clothes, stand confidently with no shame examining her curvy figure, whether it's an hourglass or a triangle. She's not entirely sure, but what she does know is that she appreciates all the curves of her body. It's not just her body that has transformed; it's her mindset over these six years. She turns around to get a brief glimpse of her body from different angles. Stretch marks are still there on her hips, and her thighs are still thick.

She can't help but detest how much space they occupy. She's heard that many guys appreciate thick thighs, but at the end of the day, they often gravitate toward those skinny girls. That's the harsh reality. Despite all the exercise, these thighs of hers seem to resist any notion of a gap. Her insecurity resurfaces, and she looked away and putting on her dress. She liked how the upper outfit draws attention away from her thighs.

She dried her hair and then proceeded to style the midsection while curling her curtain bangs. She couldn't help but appreciate how these bangs fell gracefully on her forehead. A touch of makeup followed; a subtle coral nude lipstick doubled as her blush. With her Jhumki adorning her ears, she grabbed her purse. She decided against wearing a necklace; she's had a delicate gold chain around her neck for years—just one of those Indian things. Glancing at the clock, she realized time was slipping away. She hurriedly reached into the closet and pulled out the heels she had worn the day before.

She rushed out of the house, shouting a quick goodbye to her Amma. The car was already in front of house, and Kartik who leaned casually against it. His eyes appraised her. "It's weird how you girls switch from homeless to old money so quick," he remarked. Zaranya knew he was bewildered by the transformation every time—how she could look like a mess inside the house and then step out looking like. But now he has given up trying to understand that.

He opened the driver's seat door and gestured for her to get in. "Aren't you going to drop me?" she asked incredulously. "I have to study. You can drive, so good luck," he responded nonchalantly.

"What the heck, seriously? Study, study! One day, you're going to turn into a book-obsessed maniac, for God's sake," she retorted, exasperated. “You don’t know being nerd is sexy, specially me” he smirked and left while waving his hand.