Monsoon Clouds - 7. Rahul Proposed Me
Chapter 7: Rahul Proposed Me
7.1 Unexpected Guests
It was Sunday, 6:30 PM. As usual, Dad, Mom, and I were sitting together, having casual conversations. I was sharing my work experiences. Dad listened with interest in work-related details, while Mom was more curious about people and surroundings. Both of them looked happy—something they themselves never imagined, seeing me as a working woman.
Unexpectedly, Rama Rao Uncle arrived, followed by Agarwal Uncle and, to my surprise, Rahul. Normally, Dad and Rama Rao Uncle met every Sunday either at our home or theirs, but Agarwal Uncle and Rahul joining them was new. Instinctively, Mom and I moved into the kitchen.
From there, we could hear parts of the discussion. It was about Agarwal Uncle’s daughter Pooja’s wedding, something we already knew from Revathi aunty. The groom was from their community and into business. Agarwal Uncle spoke excitedly about the arrangements. While Dad and Mom were happy for him, somewhere deep inside, they were waiting for the moment when my marriage would come up.
According to my horoscope, there were certain challenges related to my married life. Dad believed strongly that good looks alone don’t guarantee good fortune, which made him extremely particular about horoscope matching. Many proposals were filtered out at that stage itself. Only two crossed that barrier—Aakash, the TCS guy, and another proposal that faded away without clear reasons.
Over time, I had begun to understand one truth—fate is fate. No matter how much we try to change things, what is written finds its way.
Suddenly, Agarwal Uncle’s voice was replaced by Rahul’s. That caught my attention immediately. I initially thought it might be related to my job, but I soon realized he was speaking about positive qualities—about me. My curiosity turned into anxiety.
Not wanting to interrupt, I requested Mom to serve tea so I could listen from behind. Rahul continued speaking even in Mom’s presence, praising the luck of the person who would marry me. Rama Rao Uncle and Agarwal Uncle supported his words. It was one of those rare moments when parents feel immense pride without saying a word.
Agarwal Uncle then spoke about Rahul’s family—his father managing the family business, wanting Rahul to continue it, while Rahul aspired for a software job and a future in the US. His mother Reena was a strong, dynamic woman who supported the family. Rahul, their only son, meant everything to them, and his love for his mother was evident.
Dad, Mom, and I were wondering why Rahul’s family
details were being discussed now. Then Rahul turned to Dad directly and said,
“Rekha is a very nice and good girl. With your permission, I want to marry
Rekha.”
Absolute silence followed. Not even the sound of breathing. I lost my senses and came back to reality only when Mom held me and shook me. I have no idea how long I was gone.
Dad finally spoke calmly. He said it wasn’t an easy decision and that he needed time. He wanted to speak to Rahul’s parents first before discussing further. If Rahul had belonged to our community, it would have been an instant yes. But since he didn’t, Dad needed time.
Agarwal Uncle shared Rahul’s parents’ contact details and mentioned they would be attending Pooja’s wedding, making it easier to discuss matters in person if things moved forward. After tea and snacks, they left. Rama Rao Uncle asked about me, but Mom told him I was busy inside.
I went to the window and watched Rahul leave. He looked more handsome and confident to me. He knew how to win a girl’s heart—not by saying it directly to her, but by expressing it to her parents. I felt grateful to have someone like him, who understood emotions deeply. I closed my eyes and prayed that everything would go smoothly. When I opened them, Rahul turned back and smiled—he knew I was watching.
* * *
7.2 Between Fear, Faith, and a New Beginning
After that evening, there were many private discussions between Dad and Mom, which stopped the moment I entered the room. I knew they were thinking from every angle—community reactions, family expectations, my future happiness. Dad spoke to relatives and sought their opinions before taking the next step.
Dad checked the horoscopes. The match wasn’t great, but it wasn’t bad either—neutral, just like his state of mind. Mom’s thoughts kept changing. Sometimes she felt Rahul was the dream son-in-law anyone would want. Other times, she worried about cultural differences, society’s reactions, and how I would adjust. Yet, at the core of it all, she wanted me to be happy.
One statement from Rahul had made my parents restless.
After a lot of discussions with Rama Rao Uncle and relatives, Dad finally decided to call Rahul’s parents. We waited anxiously. When Dad finished the call with a smile, we knew things were moving positively. Rahul’s parents were already aware, as Rahul and Agarwal Uncle had shared everything earlier. They were waiting for our call and planned to discuss everything in person during Pooja’s wedding.
Slowly, one lock after another seemed to open. Everyone was happy, yet there was a quiet fear inside—everything felt like a dream.
Dad stopped searching for other matches and started thinking about how to handle a wedding between different cultures. One concern remained—Rahul’s job. Though intelligent and capable, he wasn’t interested in the family business. But fate worked again. Rahul got a software programmer trainee position in an MNC. He called me his lady luck.
Life suddenly felt beautiful. My job was going well, and I was receiving appreciation even as a new joinee. Dad looked relaxed now that the pressure of finding matches was gone. Ravi was doing well in his studies and called occasionally. Mom was happy seeing all of us moving forward.
Sandhya used to call regularly in the initial days, talking about life in the US—malls, places, comforts. At first, it felt interesting, but later it became repetitive. She sensed it and reduced those topics. Now she is expecting a baby. Uncle and Aunty are planning to visit her during the delivery, with Aunty staying for a while.
Life, which once felt uncertain, was now unfolding quietly—one step at a time.
* * *
7.3 A Grand Wedding and a Growing Bond
Arrangements for Pooja’s wedding were in full swing, and everything around felt like a celebration. The wedding was being organized on a very grand scale, with most of the responsibilities handled by Pooja’s brothers, Manoj and Rahul. I barely got to see Rahul during this time, especially since my parents had clearly instructed us to maintain limits until marriage. Yet, somewhere deep inside, I began feeling closer to him—thinking of him, dreaming about him as my future husband. Perhaps it is a feeling many girls experience without realizing when it begins.
Seeing the grandeur of the wedding made Dad anxious. The number of events, guests, decorations, food, clothes, jewelry, and the overall richness made him worry about how he would be able to arrange my wedding at a similar level. It was truly one of the most lavish weddings we had ever witnessed.
Rahul’s parents arrived four days before the wedding and visited our home to talk about the marriage. I took leave that day. Rahul couldn’t join, as he was busy with wedding arrangements, so only his father, his mother Reena aunty, and her sister came. From Reena aunty’s expressions, I could sense that she wasn’t entirely happy with the match. Still, her love for Rahul seemed to make her accept the situation—and me. Her sister kept whispering something continuously, while Reena aunty tried to stop her, though we couldn’t hear or understand what was being said.
Rahul’s father was calm and soft-spoken, agreeing to most things Reena aunty said. She asked whether I would continue working after marriage, to which I replied that it would depend on their wishes and Rahul’s decision. They gifted me a saree, mentioning that since they were in a hurry due to the wedding, they would visit again later to complete the remaining formalities and discuss the wedding date.
Mom gifted sarees to both ladies, and Dad offered suiting and shirting to Rahul’s father. However, the exchanged glances and expressions suggested that they were not very pleased. Reena aunty’s sister whispered again, and Reena aunty tried to calm her down. Though the meeting wasn’t as pleasant as expected, I tried to understand that acceptance takes time—especially when there is a clear difference between families. We are a middle-class family, while they belong to a business background. All we could do was hope and pray that things would gradually fall into place.
Though it was still unofficial, it felt like a mutual yes from both sides. For Rahul, we were already engaged. Whenever he found time amidst wedding duties, he met me, spoke to me, and even took me out for shopping. My parents were fine with it, and slowly, even Reena aunty started warming up to me. There were moments when Rahul, Reena aunty, and I spent time together, talking or having meals.
During the wedding, I frequently heard people referring to me as “Rahul ki hone wali.” I bought a few expensive churidars, as Mom and Dad wanted me to look rich according to their style. Many were surprised that I didn’t use makeup, even when elders did. Rahul supported me completely—he loved my natural look and wanted me to remain the way I was. That was one of the reasons he felt close to me.
* * *
7.4 Farewells, Emptiness, and Life Finding Its Rhythm
As days passed, both families began blending more comfortably. Mom developed a bond with Reena aunty, and Revathi played a key role in easing relationships. The way Rahul and I moved around together made many people believe we were already married. It still surprised me that the person I once maintained distance from had become such an inseparable part of my life.
Though I had known Manoj and Pooja from the beginning, our interactions were limited earlier. Now, I started feeling like a part of their family. I took a week’s leave from work—my MD was aware of both the wedding and my situation and granted it without hesitation. The days were filled with fun, laughter, and outings with Rahul, Pooja, Manoj, and sometimes their friends. I became more social than ever.
The wedding stretched across three days, filled with rituals, celebrations, and joy. The most emotional moment arrived during the send-off of the bride. The atmosphere shifted instantly—Rama Rao uncle and aunty remembered Sandhya and broke down, while Dad and Mom imagined my future and struggled to hold back tears. I too felt overwhelmed, unable to imagine being separated from them someday.
Even after Pooja left, the series of farewells continued. Rahul’s parents left next, politely refusing to accept gifts during the engagement. Soon after, Rama Rao uncle and aunty departed for the US to assist Sandhya during her delivery. Their absence hit us deeply—they were our strength, yet we knew Sandhya needed them more. They entrusted us with their house keys and requested us to take care of everything until their return. With heavy hearts, we dropped them at the airport.
After nearly three weeks of celebrations, the house felt unusually quiet. Mom was affected the most. Dad slowly returned to his routine but missed Rama Rao uncle deeply. I immersed myself in office work, Rahul adjusted to his job, and Ravi visited occasionally during vacations but often skipped due to project work. Mom found comfort in Savitri amma garu but missed Revathi aunty dearly.
Life gradually slipped back into routine—calm, predictable, and normal. Yet, just when we thought everything had settled, fate chose to remind us of its presence, making itself felt once again—this time, through Dad.
* * *
7.5 Sudden Medical Emergency
Dad returned from work that evening as usual, complaining of a severe headache. We assumed it was due to the heavy workload over the past few days. When we offered him tea, he declined and chose to rest, hoping he would feel better by night.
When I called him for dinner later, there was no response. I went to his room and tried to wake him up. He opened his eyes but did not respond. He appeared to be in a trance. Fear gripped me instantly—my legs started shivering, my mind went blank, and before I knew it, I collapsed to the ground crying uncontrollably and screaming at the top of my voice.
Mom rushed in, saw Dad’s condition, and fell to the floor in shock. Hearing my cries, Sharma garu and his wife hurried in as well. Savitri amma garu attended to Mom, while Sharma garu checked Dad, rubbing his hands and legs. Dad tried to say something but couldn’t speak. Sharma garu immediately instructed us to rush him to the hospital.
At that moment, we painfully missed Rama Rao uncle and aunty. Sharma garu, being retired, couldn’t help physically much. Instinctively, I ran out to look for Rahul. I don’t remember anything except running—crossing our gate and theirs. I never knew I could run that fast.
Rahul was just returning from work. One look at my face was enough for him to understand that something was terribly wrong. Without asking many questions, he helped us arrange an auto. Dad, Mom, and I rushed to the nearest hospital in the auto, while Rahul followed on his bike.
At the emergency ward, the doctor asked if Dad was diabetic. When we confirmed, they quickly identified the issue—his sugar level had dropped dangerously low because he had forgotten to take his morning medicine. Unaware of the symptoms, he had gone to sleep, causing the levels to fall further.
Doctors immediately administered glucose, injections, and tablets. Slowly, Dad began to respond. Within two hours, his sugar levels normalized, and so did he. It felt like a huge relief, as though life had returned to us. Dad remembered nothing except sleeping at home and was shocked to find himself in the hospital. He felt guilty for worrying everyone.
Though he wanted to go home immediately, the doctor advised overnight observation. Rahul brought idlis for all of us. Dad and Mom ate inside, while I sat in the waiting hall, as only one attendant was allowed in the emergency ward. Mom asked me to go home, but I couldn’t imagine leaving Dad alone. I decided to stay back in the waiting hall to help Mom if needed. At that moment, I realized how much my job had made me stronger and more confident.
* * *
7.6 A Night of Waiting and Unexpected Confessions
I cleaned a small corner in the waiting hall and tried to rest. It felt like a rebirth for all three of us. Exhaustion finally caught up with me, and as I closed my eyes, I heard a familiar voice—one I could recognize even among a thousand voices, heard more by my heart than my ears.
“Do you want coffee or tea?” Rahul asked.
I told him he should leave since Dad was stable and everything was fine by God’s grace. I reminded him that he had work the next day and thanked him sincerely for everything he had done.
He laughed and scolded me gently, saying it was his duty. He sat down beside me, clearly in no mood to leave. The waiting hall was brightly lit, filled with tired attendants and the occasional nurse calling out patient names. Most people were asleep, drained by worry and exhaustion.
Rahul settled beside me comfortably—it was clear he intended to stay till morning. We went for tea, knowing well how unusual it was to drink tea at that hour. Returning to the same spot felt strangely destined, as if it were reserved just for us.
With no chance of sleep due to lights, mosquitoes, and nurse visits, Rahul began opening up about his life—something we had never had the privacy or time for before.
He spoke honestly about being an only child, deeply attached to his mother, and growing up pampered. He shared how his looks and attention from girls inflated his ego during school, how his first relationship with Nisha began and ended painfully, and how it taught him what heartbreak truly feels like.
He spoke of Neha, his second relationship during college—how she helped him heal, how they grew close, and how her decision to pursue higher studies in the US ended their relationship. He admitted how every breakup hurts equally, no matter how experienced one becomes, and how his mother stood by him every time.
He confessed his habits, his vulnerabilities, and finally his decision to let his parents choose his life partner.
A nurse’s call reminded us we were in a hospital. I went to check on Dad—he was sleeping peacefully, Mom resting beside him. The doctor assured me everything was normal and that discharge would happen in the morning. I returned feeling unexpectedly energetic despite exhaustion.
Rahul was still waiting. He asked for tea again, and though I knew it wouldn’t be available, his concern touched me deeply.
He continued, his voice softer now—telling me how his heart changed the first time he saw me at Sandhya’s birthday. How something inside him rang like bells, telling him I was the one. He explained why he chose patience, why he approached parents first, and how he never wanted to lose me by rushing.
He smiled mischievously as he joked about sharing every detail of his life—and then, suddenly, he knelt down right there in the waiting hall with a flower picked from corridor plant.
With folded hands and trembling hope, he asked:
“Will you marry me?”
I stood frozen, unable to believe what I had just witnessed.
Rahul had proposed to me.
* * *
7.7 A Morning Wrapped in Relief and Love
It was 6:00 AM.
The sun had just risen—soft, calm, and glowing in a gentle shade of orange. I
had never seen the sun look so beautiful before. Maybe it was my state of mind
that painted it that way—Dad’s restored health and Rahul’s proposal lifting me
to cloud nine.
Rahul brought tea for all three of us. After freshening up with whatever facilities were available, the night-duty doctor prepared the discharge summary so we could leave early, without waiting for the next shift to reassess the case. Dad was perfectly normal and cheerful, as if nothing had happened the previous night. We took an auto and returned home—a huge relief after such a terrifying experience.
“Thank you” felt far too small a word for Rahul’s support, but language gave us no better option, so we repeated it countless times. I prepared special coffee for him—my filter coffee, which he loves. Though he usually prefers tea, he always says my coffee has a secret ingredient. This time, it truly did—I poured in all the love that lingered from the night before.
After his first sip, he looked at me. That single look spoke volumes. Rahul suddenly felt new to me. I lowered my eyes, overwhelmed by a blend of shyness and happiness. Even with my parents present in the hall, it felt like Rahul and I were communicating in a new language—perhaps the language of love. Sandhya used to talk about this, about how she and Vamshi spoke through their eyes even in front of family. It once sounded strange to me. Now, I was living it.
When Rahul left, I lost count of how many times he turned back to look at me. I joked to myself that he might get a neck pain—or that his face might stay turned forever. I told Mom I would clean outside and stepped out with a broom in hand. My hands did their work, but my eyes were fixed on him—watching the way he walked, reached his bike, started it, and rode away. He kept looking back too, as if hoping for a reason to stay. With no choice left, he finally turned at the corner of our street and disappeared—though never from my heart or mind.
We updated Ravi about everything. He wanted to come immediately, but we stopped him, assuring him that Dad was fine. He promised to visit during his semester break. We insisted Dad take leave for the day, even though he was eager to return to work. I applied for leave as well—my mind and body both needed rest. After breakfast, all of us lay down to recover.
* * *
7.8 Acceptance, Turmoil, and a Second 'Yes'
As I lay there, Rahul’s entire story replayed in my mind. I could accept everything—but whenever thoughts of his past relationships surfaced, I felt disturbed and uneasy. A wave of anger, disappointment, and discomfort would rise, especially when I thought about his physical closeness with others. In those moments, he felt like someone else—not my Rahul.
But then reality grounded me. That was his past, a time when I wasn’t part of his life. More importantly, he was honest enough to share everything with me. Maybe it would have been easier if he had hidden it—but discovering it later would have hurt far more, making me feel deceived. In that sense, Rahul had done the right thing. And in my heart, he was always right. I spent the entire day lost in thoughts of him—his past, and our future. I wished I had gone to work; at least it would have distracted me. Sleep refused to come, even in the afternoon, as my mind kept circling endlessly.
Rahul visited again in the evening to check on Dad’s health, coming straight from work. He looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes, yet the same warm smile remained. After a strong coffee and snacks, he looked fresher. His eyes searched mine—quietly asking for an answer to his proposal. I replied through my eyes that he would have it tomorrow. He understood.
Later that evening, he came to my office after work and asked me out for coffee nearby. After everything that had happened, I felt closer to him than ever—as though I had known him for years, as though he was always meant to be mine. I agreed.
At the café, he handed me a red rose and a “Will You Marry Me” card. He proposed again—not aloud, just a lip movement and a soft voice. I felt shy, awkward, and for a second, even thought how shameless he could be. But that shamelessness was nothing but love. I stayed silent for a moment—and then, without a word, replied “YES” the same way he had asked.
He immediately cursed himself for choosing a restaurant—otherwise he would have shouted, jumped, danced, and celebrated freely. He clenched his fists, whispering to himself, “Yes, yes, yes,” his face glowing brighter than a thousand bulbs. He was completely uncontrollable—confusing the waiter, almost hugging him, fumbling with the coffee and the bill—but his happiness never faded. I decided it was best to leave him to enjoy his moment.
I left the café. He offered to drop me home, but I made an excuse to go alone. He needed private time to absorb this joy—and so did I. The difference was, he could express it openly. I couldn’t. My body trembled, goosebumps covered my skin, my heart raced, and suddenly everything around me looked beautiful—the roads, trees, traffic, even the beggar I saw every day.
Life itself had transformed.
* * *
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