It was mid-May. When the sun had decided to show all its grandeur and burn India to its full potential, unexpected rain one morning had made that evening even more beautiful and pleasant for Mumbaikars.

It was then, while standing in his small balcony, that Armaan knew it was a special day for him. Mostly for three reasons – first, Sandy’s mother was showing some improvement; second, his show, which was suffering in TRP charts for some time, was back to number one and the channel had offered him one more show, purely his concept, with Sara as the executive producer; and third, his wait to meet Sara would be over as he’d be hosting her at his flat after three cancelled plans in last three weeks.

Things change, people change and he too changed, not only himself but also his priorities. He convinced himself that whatever he was doing now were only best for him in the long run. For the way he made for himself, for the way he wanted to give an elite luxurious life to himself and his family, he didn’t have much time left to get started. Accepting another show was one of the ways to get closer to his dreams.

Twenty-five years. That’s how young he was. In all those years, Armaan had seen and experienced much more than what life offered him. Certain things he enjoyed, and a few others, he didn’t regret doing, even though they made little sense now. His achievements were quite a lot according to his age. And he very well knew what that meant. He also knew it had been possible because of his parents’ support.

He was one of the first writers from Indore to have achieved so much, and that got him a lot of local media attention. So much so that he was a household name amongst youngsters now. Almost everybody who knew him either respected him or was jealous of him for his achievements. His father was very happy and proud when he first saw his son’s media coverage. It was gratifying for his father to watch him working so hard and making a name for himself. He made Armaan more comfortable and happier with each passing moment whenever he thought of giving up. It was about the balance between both of them, which they had maintained for years, and both of them hoped that it would continue like this forever. He missed his parents all the time, but in the last five years, he had somehow gotten used to it.

Just before the raindrops started touching his face with the wind, he stood in his balcony, thinking whether life had unfolded exactly like it was planned. Not even an iota similar was the answer. He finished his cup of tea and stood there for some more time. He knew his life wouldn’t be the same anymore, but that’s what he had chosen, to make it even better.

He had written many lines for his characters, proposing each other, loving each other. In fact, he always chose bold lines. But surprisingly, as he thought about his own ideal proposal tonight, it scared the shit out of him. He could feel a shortness of breath with a shadow of fear and wanted to get rid of that feeling as early as he could. As much as he wanted that night to be the perfect, he also wanted to get over with his proposal as soon as possible.

He closed his eyes for some seconds, his heart still beating really fast. Fear of rejection started flashing in front of his eyes. His eyes were wide open waiting for Sara to arrive, even after knowing well that she would take another one hour. His heartbeats weren’t settling down at all and nothing seemed to be working.

This is an excerpt from Arpit Vageria’s Be My Perfect Ending. You can read the book here.



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