PARUL A MITTAL [MITTAL - LETS HAVE COFFEE

Lets Have Coffee

Parul A. Mittal is the author of the national bestseller, Heartbreaks & Dreams! The Girls @ IIT . Her second book, Arranged Love, captured the hearts of Indian youth.

Born and brought up in Delhi, Parul did her schooling at Lady Irwin School, New Delhi, and Navrachna School, Baroda. She did her BTech in Electrical Engineering from IIT Delhi in 1995, followed by Masters in Computer Science from UMich, Ann Arbor. The author has worked for various corporatesHughes, IBM Research, Nextag and Yatrafor over thirteen years. She co-founded an online parenting website called RivoKids. At present, Parul is running recreational Math camps for kids and trying to find her FLOW.

She is married to Alok Mittal and has two amazing daughters, Smiti and Muskaan. Apart from reading and writing fiction, the author loves listening to old Hindi music, playing board games, painting, trekking, and lawn tennis. Parul is based in Gurugram and you can read more about her at www.parulmittal.com or join her Facebook fan page: www.facebook.com/parulmittalbooks or email her at parulmittal@gmail.com

Lets Have Coffee

Parul A. Mittal

Published by

Rupa Publications India Pvt. Ltd 2017

7/16, Ansari Road, Daryaganj

New Delhi 110002

Copyright Parul A. Mittal 2017

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to any actual person, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in a retrieval system, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher.

ISBN: 978-81-291-XXXX-X

First impression 2017

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated, without the publishers prior consent, in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published.

This book is dedicated to my teenage daughters,
Smiti and Muskaan, who mean the world to me.

Contents

Prologue

Hi, I am Meha. I am twenty-nine and weigh seventy-two kilos. I have recently won the award for the years Best Wedding Planner. You may ask whether I am married or not. The answer is no, not yet. But I have a boyfriend, who is rather irresistible like this double-chocolate crme Frappuccino I am having at this moment.

If you are thinking that a single girl my weight ought to know better than to get carried away by the temptations of a calorie-loaded drink, then let me tell you somethingI am a woman of this age and I dont worry that my boyfriend will stop loving me if I get any heavier. I exercise regularly, so that I dont crush the poor guy, as I prefer to be on the top. I wont deny that I used to be insecure onceabout my looks, about not being as smart as my sister, and hell yes, even about why someone would love me. It has caused me a lot of grief and heartache. In fact, I was so consumed by my minds chatter that not once but twice, I allowed love to slip away from me.

I was lost and confused. I was looking for a forever-wala love, in a world where relationships can be as brief as the messages we send to each other on the inadequate deviceswhere we are spoiled for choices whether its the screensaver on our phone or the flavours of condomwhere we want our partner to look like a model from an advertisementwhere everything we do is for short-term gains and instant gratification, without emotional connect or meaningwhere we jump to quick assumptions driven by our insecurities that are built on the foundation of a desirable life sold to uswhere reality and the virtual world are often confusedwhere quick fame and attraction often replace enduring appreciation and respect.

Its kind of befitting that in this fast-paced, inauthentic online world, it took me an online reality show to finally understand the true meaning of love and to get answers to some of the basic questions a girl asks herself, like Im-still-trying-to-figure-out-this-whole-life. Beneath all this superficial flirting and drunken texts, what is love that all those movies and books talk about? How do you know when you have found it? Is a relationship nothing more than an intimate cup of coffee shared with an attractive stranger? People say that everything will be alright, but will it ever be? After all, life doesnt provide with an online exchange policy. You cant ask for a new one with different features or exchange a defective one. So how do you know life will work out for you? How do you know that you arent one of those cheap Chinese toys? How do you know that you wont end up broken, even if you dont belong to one of those big, millionaire families? Life doesnt come with a manual. There is no repair shop, no way to order a new battery, no way to fix a broken screen. The question that I often ask to myself is how to get through all of this?

The Ex Connection

O h my God! Oh my God! A designer beach-wedding in Goa!

Tanu Dis excitement spills over the phone and adds to my delight of sharing the good news with her.

Finally, you get to rock Goa, huh?

I know! Unimaginable, right? Like a chocolate truffle cake with zero calories!

If it was Papa, he would have said, Goa choro, Har Ki Pauri chalte hain , Didi says and we both burst into laughter.

I often wanted to go to Goa, but Dad would always say, Paani mein jaana hai to Har Ki Pauri chalte hain . All our family vacations were to religious places. Hence, we used to end up at either Haridwar, which we had visited umpteen numbers of times, or at a beach in Odisha, near Jagannath Temple, or at a beach in Chennai, on the way to Meenakshi Templebut never Goa. Dad only spent money on God.

Now, I have made it to Goa on my own and I am super thrilled. I look longingly at the ocean. I have been dying to go out and have some fun, but its been so busy that I havent even got a chance to dip my toes in the water. Some firang girls walk towards the golden sand from the hotel lawns in their sexy bikinis. I surely cant carry a bikini, but I do want to try out the new halter-neck top and beach shorts that I had bought online.

I know its a beach. But, please be careful. Dont go around exposing your boobs, Didi warns me in her elder-sisterly voice, almost reading my mind. I dont know how she does this. That is read my mind. It got worse since she became a mother.

There is a species called sleazy men that is widely found lurking on Indian beaches, she says in a partly joking and partly warning tone.

Didi, stop being a mom.

I can hear three-year-old Rhea in the background, Mummy who are you talking to?

Okay, Rhea is here. I got to go. See you soon. Just be aware of your boobs, she repeats as she disconnects the phone. But before she hangs up, I hear Rhea asking, Mummy, what are boobs?

Perfect! Now Tanu Di will have to invent a story so that Rhea doesnt go around announcing, My masi has boobs, to every person she meets in the park. I smile at the thought.

After disconnecting the call, I realize that I have been standing out in the sun for too long. I am feeling a bit dizzy and my throat is parched. I look around for a waiter to get me some water. Instead, I spot a creepy uncle, standing at a distance, staring wistfully at the bikini-clad girls on the beach. Ugh! Didi was right. I quickly pull my chunni over my breasts, and walk towards a shade. A waiter passes me, carrying six Sangria glasses. Topped with fresh orange slices, apple pieces and a lime slice on the rim, the cocktail looks divine. I know that I am not supposed to drink alcohol until the wedding, but I guess one glass of Sangria doesnt count.