The Chocolate Mousse

Priya was up at the crack of dawn today. It was her 25 th birthday and she was throwing a party for her close friends in her new pad, that evening.It was to be a special party also, for her childhood friend Rumi, was getting married in three weeks. Priya had ordered food for dinner but Rumi had insisted on getting desserts, prepared by herself, for she was trying to learn to make some special dishes lately. Priya had happily acceded to her request.

The party started early evening with lots of laughter, merriment and music. The door bell rang. Who could it be now? wondered Priya as she went to open the door.She couldn’t believe her eyes!Dolly stood there with a big smile. They hugged each other. Priya couldn’t believe that Dolly had flown in from Bangalore for her party. Then she remembered ! Harsh! Dolly and Harsh were seeing each other for quite some time and their common friend Harsh was an added attraction for Dolly to come. Priya pulled Dolly in into screams of delight, surprises and hugs. Her close friends’s group was complete.

The dinner was great but the desserts were the real treats. They got everyone drooling over them. Some started teasing Rumi that how she had started getting ready for marriage by learning to cook. Some set enquiring glances at Dolly and Harsh, if they were next in the line and if Dolly too had started her preparations.

“What preparations man?” came a retort from Dolly, “I am going to have a love marriage unlike Rumi. An arranged marriage requires preparations, like how to please the new family etc. but there are no such pressures in a love marriage. So why should I need to worry about all such things, isn’t it Harsh?” and she gulped down a big spoonful of the chocolate mousse.

“Heavenly” said a satiated Dolly as she snuggled up to Harsh.

Rumi lay on her bed, that night , thinking about what Dolly had said to differentiate between an arranged marriage and a marriage made by one’s own choice. You need to please one’s family in one and there isn’t a need to do so, in the other?Dolly and she were friends and belonged to the same generation, then where was the clash of thoughts? A sea of thoughts raged in her mind. Suddenly she was transported to a different world.The country’s largest fashion show was going on.There were lights, music and beautiful models walked the ramp in the clothes designed by her mom. She, a toddler then, was waiting behind stage , all dressed up like a doll, to walk the stage with her parents , at the finale.Both her parents were designers and they had carved a niche for themselves, in the industry. Their line was about clothes designed and showcasing a relation.

Sadly, Rumi lost her mother to cancer, when she was hardly seven. She was brought up by her father with the support of her grandparents. Slowly peace started settling in. She could hear her mom speak once so clearly on stage, when she was asked to speak about the central theme of their clothes line. She looked so beautiful there on the stage and she said, “ Relationships are an integral part of our lives. They reflect the person we are, at heart.Our clothes line celebrates the beauty of all relationships.” There was a thunderous applause.

Rumi had a smile on her face. She had found her answers. She could now understand why so many of her friends were so unsure of whether they really wanted to get married at all. The friends were both a fair mix of both the genders. Boys were equally apprehensive about getting married.

Next morning many of the friends were still in bed when Rumi got ready to leave. She saw Dolly lazing on the sofa. She gave her a smile.

“A very good morning, Dolly.I would like to share my thoughts with you, on the subject of marriage, that you brought up yesterday.Marriage is just like any other relationship, Dolly. It is what you make of it. I feel there is no fundamental difference between one by your choice and the other by some one else’s. Once you have accepted the relationship, it starts working. The more you give, is the more you get back, in essence. There is some more of the chocolate mousse left in the fridge for you. Let’s catch up soon , bye.” Planting a kiss on her cheek , Rumi thanked Priya and rushed out to work.

Author of the book “The Heart Speaks”, Medium writer since 2018, top writer in fiction, short stories. Loves writing, dance, music, children. Learner for life..