This is one of the entries I had submitted for Valentine's day contest - A Bag full of love.
cover : oh_nakhrewaali | writer : missFiesty_69 | Theme : A Valentine's Mishap
Mixed Messages, Matched Hearts
Zoya was absolutely sure she had placed the right order. A simple, elegant book on classic poetry for her sister, Zeenat, as a birthday gift. But when the package arrived, she opened the box to find a neon green, extra-large hoodie with the words "World’s Best Girlfriend" emblazoned across the front.
Her first instinct was to check the receipt. Indeed, it was her name on it, but the order details listed a completely different item. Arre yaar!” she groaned, slapping her forehead. How was she supposed to explain this to Zeenat?
Meanwhile, across the city, Asad stared at the slim poetry book in his hands, utterly perplexed. He had ordered the hoodie for his girlfriend, a self-proclaimed hoodie enthusiast. Instead, he was holding a book with a romantic sonnet on the first page.
“This is NOT a hoodie,” he muttered, flipping through the delicate pages. He checked the package slip—his name was nowhere on it. “Great. Just great.”
Both Zoya and Asad tried to call the customer service and after what seemed like an eternity, were given each other’s contact details for a possible exchange.
Zoya: Hi. I think there is an order misplace. Do you have my book ?
Asad: And you have my hoodie.
Zoya: This is so frustrating.
Asad: Tell me about it. My girl friend's birthday is in two days. What am I supposed to do? Write her a sonnet?
Zoya: Hey! dont mock the idea. It can be romantic, Zoya playfully smiled.
Asad: I don’t do poetry.
Zoya: well, mujhe bhi neon green hoodies ka shauq nahi hai.
They agreed to meet at a café the next evening for exchanging the items.
When Zoya arrived, she recognized Asad instantly—he was the only one sitting at a table with a misplaced sense of importance, with a frowning face as though he was forced to do something unpleasant. Zoya walked up to him, holding the hoodie.
“I am assuming you’re Asad?” she asked.
“Aur tum hi ho woh shayari pasand karne wali ladki" he replied, sliding the book across the table toward her. “This actually questioned my entire vocabulary. Who writes all this stuff ?
She giggled. “Good to know you struggled.”
Asad rolled his eyes. “I don’t suppose we could just blame the universe and pretend this never happened?”
"Bilkul bhi nahi" she said. “I am never forgetting this level of incompetence from the delivery system, plus I am glad meri wajah se you read these" and laughed.
They swapped items, but instead of parting ways, they found themselves talking, i.e., Asad listened to Zoya speak enthusiastically about everything, and about her job, and when she stopped talking, she asked him about his job. Asad told her he was a businessman, owned a company named Dilshad Constructions. They laughed at the absurdity of their respective weeks, and somehow, two hours flew by in a blink.
“Okay,” Asad finally said, glancing at his watch. Mazaa toh bohot aa raha hai Ms. Farooqi aapse baat karke aur phir yeh bolun jo thoda mauka mila mujhe baat karne ka, I enjoyed it. I should go before my girl friend thinks I ditched her birthday preparations for a mysterious book lover.”
Zoya smiled and said, Haww!! ab mein kya karoon aap toh baat hi nahi kar rahe. But yeah I should go, too, before Zeenat starts planning revenge.”
They exchanged numbers—purely to complain about delivery mix-ups in the future, or so they reassured themselves.
A few weeks later, Zoya received a message from Asad: I recited a shayari to my girlfriend. She asked me yeh meine kab seekha and wants to hear more. This is all your fault.
Zoya grinned as she typed back, aapki girl friend ke liye hai. itna toh banta hai, and you are welcome :)
And just like that, unexpected chaos had delivered something neither of them had expected—a friendship. Or maybe, just maybe, the beginning of something more.
xxxxx
but thank you for your kind words. 
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