Listen, I honestly didn't want to be engaged to that obnoxious git of a person. If you're reading this because you think this might be a fluffy read, my advice is: go back to the previous page right now and start looking for another story.
Getting engaged without a say in it is frustrating and breaking the engagement without breaking any hearts is tiring. It's troublesome. Most of the time, you'll end up breaking hearts; including your own.
If you still want to read this, I warn you that you're in for a roller-coaster ride. Though, I am glad that I was able to entertain you.
Just don't say that I didn't warn you.
My name is Khushi Kumari Gupta(kh-u-sh-ee(the kh sound from your epiglottis)). I dare you to pronounce it wrong.
I am twenty-one years old.
Father is one of the biggest tycoons in the hotel industry, also known as the motel king of USA. Mother was Irish and also the love of my father's life; he had married her against his parent's wishes. I had lived a much-pampered life being the youngest and the only daughter of my family. I was also the connection that had bought my paternal grandparents and father together again. From my childhood years, I was given everything I wanted on a silver platter. I could also be possibly be classified as spoiled or in an unglorified term: a brat.
Until a few months ago I was a happy citizen of the great United States of America, One of the top students at Harvard business school'I am not a smart-alec, business just runs in my blood. I was also the chosen valedictorian of our graduating class-- that was totally because everybody liked my craziness.
Am I borderline crazy?
Yeah. You could say that.
I could tell you any incident of my life to prove it, but my crazy ideas really started to take toll last May, when my daddy dearest decided to make an important decision about my life without my permission.
I know ' sounds like my father is overbearing. Most of the time, he is.
But he let me live alone in Vegas, when I decided that I wanted to live alone on my own (not that it lasted long). He also let me splurge his money on shopping and kept up with my spendthrift ways. So, I wouldn't cast him out just yet.
My dad is a middle-aged guy. His hair is thinning and his beard has gone white. He didn't look cool or anything, but he was okay. He kept up with my crazy stunts, but how was I supposed to know that it was just to butter me up for taking away my right to make the biggest decision of my life. (That is sounding way more cynical than I want it to be')
When my father first called me to his office, I contemplated between going there or just running away. I don't remember a time, when I was called to his office, and I wasn't in some kind of serious trouble.
When I finally gathered enough courage and walked into his office, it was half past two 'half an hour later than I was supposed to show up. If there was a thing my father loathed, it was being late. He didn't seem to be mad at my tardiness, so I let out a sigh of relief. I was acting with such naivety at the time.
My father set the file he was reading on the desk, rose to his feet and motioned me to take a walk with him in the gardens behind his office. The minute he uttered those words I knew there was something big coming my way. The walk in the gardens signified serious business or an important decision. Also, the fact that my father was wearing his formal clothes didn't help with my nerves either.
Once I matched my father's pace, he cleared his throat and began to talk. The professionalism in my father's behavior worsened my already wrecked nerves.
"You're turning twenty-two in matter of days." My father began.
"So we are going to talk about my birthday bash. Honestly Dad, you scared me there for a moment. As for the party, I have this amazing party planned with a theme and everything. You can even call your business partners and people. I want to have a huge party. It's not like you turn twenty-two every day. I will take care'" My rant was interrupted by my father calling my name.
"Khushi, we are not here to talk about your birthday party." My father sighed before starting again. "You've grown into a fine young woman, Khushi. You graduated as one of the top students in your batch. If your mother was alive she would have been proud of you."
I stood there staring at him, opening and closing my mouth like goldfish. I tried to say something intelligent, but without any successful results--how one responds to that is totally beyond my understanding. I motioned him to go ahead as I had no idea whatsoever about where this conversation was heading.
"You have grown up, Khushi, although you don't always act the part. Either way, it is time you start taking your life more seriously. You have to start making some important decisions about your life."
"Papa," I began pulling the stray strand of hair behind my ears. "Why was I called to the study? Why am I asked to take the "oh so professional" walk in the garden? What is going on?" I asked, losing patience with my father. I think I had pretty good idea about what was the talk about.
"You are getting married to my friend Rajeev Singh Raizada's son." My father said in a monotonous voice.
"Dad, I know I maxed out my birthday party budget before even buying the food but it's my twen' wait. What?" I said stunned. I don't think I hear him right.
"You're getting married" My father repeated again in a serious tone
I stared at him.
I waited for somebody to yell, Not! But all I got was silence.
"Wait," I asked my father. "You're telling me that my marriage is going to be arranged?"
"Well, now," Father said. "In arranged marriages, you're not allowed to see the person until after the marriage. You'll be spending time with him before that." Leave to my father to give a diplomatic answer even at times like this.
"I still don't have a choice but to marry him." I scoffed, not seeing mush difference.
"His father is one of my best friends and the boy has grown up to be a respectable young man. You'll like him." My father put in, trying to idolize him.
"Dad, there is a great big line of difference between liking someone and marrying someone." I argued back waving my hands in wild gestures to get to see my point. "And I am perfectly confident even the boy isn't interested in the marriage."
"Rajeev talked to his son and he's okay with the marriage" My father replied as if arranging your child's marriage without their consent was an ordinary thing.
"Okay? He is okay with the marriage. Is he that desperate to get married off? Can't get girls or something?" I snorted.
"Khushi'" my father sighed. "The boy isn't incompetent in that area; quite the contrary, actually." Like, I am going to believe that.
"Then why, tell me, is he so desperate to get married to me? Either way, I am still not interested in getting married to him. " I said in a tight voice and stomping my foot to add that extra affect of anger.
"You are marrying him."
"Face it father. You can't force me to get married"
"I can and I will. You either marry the boy or pay me back all the money you've spent from my income in the next five days" Damn, he is prepared but, I am not going down easy. After all, I am his daughter.
"You can't do that. There ought to be some rules against that or something."
"I am doing it Khushi. It's either this or that." He said matter of factly.
I was shocked. I knew my father wanted me to get married but I never expected this from him.
"This is absolutely ridiculous." I stated simply before slumping down on the grass below me.
"We will be flying to London day after tomorrow. We wi'"
"What about my birthday party?" I interrupted him'betrothed or not, it was still important.
"You will have your birthday party there. As a matter of fact, we'll be announcing your engagement on that day." My father replied.
"Great! I am now not looking forward to it." I muttered.
My father decided to ignore me and continue on with his previous thought. "We will meet up with the Raizadas and stay with them for a month. You'll formally meet their son and get to know him." And with that he walked back to his office door.
That marked the end of our conversation. I stayed in my position for quite a while. Trying to take in everything my father had said. No birthday party talks, no money management talks, but rather "you're getting married." That is it; my father has officially lost it. Did he really believe that I was going to agree to this. Barmin' hypocrite.
Behind all the joking I knew this matter can't be taken lightly. My father was being serious. And to top it all off, add his stubbornness to the mix and it makes the perfect salad for my unwanted marriage. I wanted to hurl my shoe on his head--but they were genuine one of a kind gucci--so, I restrained myself. I am going to stop this marriage and when I do; my father won't even know what hit him and his get-Khushi-married plan. This was war.
If my anger was bad, the feeling of betrayal I felt was nothing compared to it. I wanted to know his reasoning behind this decision'it was business school all over again.
Tears pricked my eyes but I knew better than crying; it wouldn't help me in any way or form. I wanted to call my father many words; ranging from slave-driving Hitler to effing hypocrite. But I also knew that it would only thing it would help me with was vent out my anger.
I would have to somehow get out of the marriage. As they say, "When Life gives you lemons; rub them in the open wounds of your enemies."
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Okay, I have a tendency to leave author notes after my every story...So, as a force of habit...I am going to do this. Well, I love to write and I hope to become a writer someday<--maybe even J.K. Rowling good. SO, I really like feedback on my work. So, if you can be as harsh as you can be and give me real critiques. I'll be an extremely happy camper. TIll then. Love you folks.
Also, an interesting fact (I usually those too at the end of my chapters)--In Disney movies, most MC's didn't have a mother because Walt Disney felt sorry for the loss of his own mother.
CID
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