The Imperfect Match
Jia was almost sure Arnab was not the one. As she sat at her desk toying with their red and gold wedding invitation and subconsciously nodding to what he was saying on the phone, she had the urge to say it once, once and for all, "Arn, this is it!". But seven years had gone by, they had fought and broken up, apologized and made up, argued and agreed and everything else. Only she could never speak it aloud. There was no reason to. Arnab was perfect. Her parents loved him. He was a well-settled lawyer hailing from a family of eminent legal professionals, good looking and that too a Bengali Brahmin. They couldn't have asked for anything more. Her sister thought he was the perfect b-i-l who took her shopping, listened to her relationship stories and helped with her assignments. Her friends loved him since he was so much in love with her. He would always remember important dates, surprise her with gifts for no reason, give her the space to spend time with her friends, escort ...