I am the younger of two girls in our house, we are pampered yet dutiful. I was a good student and keen to pursue sports. My parents were proud of me. They live in a world where the imagined opinions of others matter, the praise or lack of it lavished upon one was considered important. Somehow, these values did not trickle down to me. Material pleasures are not as important for me, as friends or family or living life to the fullest.

I was not the serious person they groomed me to be. I fell hopelessly in love with a boy who didn't dream big. He was from a humble family and had responsibilities on his shoulders. He was a serious guy who also had the same values about worrying what the world will say over what one's heart says. We would talk secretly over the phone. Those days, mobile phones were not around and I had to tiptoe to the dining room to make a call.

We never ran out of topics to talk about and laughed happily. The world seemed rosy. Alas! Not for long.

He came home and asked for my hand. My parents looked at him aghast. How could this worthless man ask for their daughter? Which boy does that? Only parents should ask for such things, according to them. In addition, he had to look after his married sisters financially. This was atrocious in their eyes! He wasn't as educated or rich. So that was another cross against his name.

He expected my parents to accept him as if they had been waiting for him to come along. He couldn't understand that my parents didn't like him.

I had to hear some upsetting remarks from him, because of their behaviour. I tried hard to convince my parents. I was made to feel guilty for troubling my mom and dad by my whole family. He, on the other hand, made me feel just as bad because I was failing to convince them. Not once did he bring his parents to our home. That would be an affront to his ego. He was the boy's family after all! Mom and dad had closed their ears to me and went on as if it was a passing phase. I knew he was being unrealistic. I was hopelessly in love with him though. He refused to wait for me and got engaged.

My world crumbled down. I wouldn’t cry but I went into an autopilot mode. I knew I was sinking, torn, hurt. My parents didn't bother to console me. I had to pick my pieces on my own. I tried ending my life. I cut myself, took overdoses of pills but no one came to hold my hand and ease the pain. I got married eventually, gave birth to sweet kids and started life again but I stopped living with zest. It hurts me to see romance in couples. My husband is a very good man, but we don't share an emotional wavelength.

His world is his family and I'm only on the periphery. I dream alone, I smile alone, I walk alone. Maybe I'm not alone in reality but I'm lonely inside.

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