A MATCH MADE IN MISMATCH VERSION 2

Akash’s POV

Life is hell. Of course it is. What else should I call it?

When you have everything a “successful man” is supposed to have — according to society — and still nothing feels right.

Hello. I’m Dr. Akash Sharma.

A practicing cardiologist, soon to be fully certified. Perfect job. Perfect practice. Great salary. Good family. A hot girlfriend. Everything is “perfect.”

So why am I unhappy?

Maybe because everything came too easily. I never had to struggle for anything. And when life stops challenging you, it stops exciting you too. Slowly there’s no peace left, and no thrill either.

I’m not even old — just 30.

But the way Indian families behave, it feels like they take vows the day their child is born:

“We will decide everything for you… except your happiness.”

At the dinner table…

Papa: “We’ve done everything for you, Akash. The best school, tuitions, clothes, food… everything you have today, we gave you. You think of yourself now, but who thought of you first? We did!”

Me: “Mummy, you know I dont like bhindi. So why is it in my plate every alternate day? When will you stop forcing?”

Mummy: “Eat what’s made, beta.”

Papa: “I’m talking something important and you’re stuck on bhindi.”

Me: “Exactly, Papa. You say everything in my life is according to my choice… and I don’t even get the vegetables I like. You decided my school, you decided I should become a doctor. Yes, I worked hard. Yes, I topped. But will you ever give credit that I worked for this? Or will everything always be because of your sacrifices?”

Papa: “Fine. We never did anything. You were born trained. Born doctor. We did nothing. Your mother and I contributed nothing.”

Ah yes. Parents’ ultimate weapon — emotional blackmail. Brahmāstra.

Mummy: “Akash, you turned 30 last month. Think about marriage. If you like someone, tell us. We’ll get you married.”

Me: “Why don’t you understand that I DON’T want to marry yet? When I want to, I’ll tell you.”

Papa: “At least hear about the girl I’ve found for you. She’s wonderful. If you hear once—”

My anger rise i stand up and Slam My Plate under the table.

Me: “I don’t want bhindi and I DON’T want to marry your chosen girl. I’ve been breathing for 30 years — let me decide when and who to marry.”

Aunty: “At least listen to who the girl is!”

Me: “What will listening do when I’m not ready?”

Papa (shouting): “You’re so grown up that you won’t8 even listen to elders now?”

Me: “Enough, Papa. If anyone mentions marriage again, I’ll stop coming home.”

My little brother, Duggu, runs to me.

Duggu: “Akash bhaiya, don’t leave. It’s my birthday tomorrow… please don’t leave home.”

Me: “See, Papa? Your marriage obsession is stressing out an 8-year-old.”

Rohan: “Mummy, if bhaiya doesn’t want to marry, get me married. I want to. Why force the one who doesn’t, and ignore the one who actually wants it?”

Papa: “Rohan, Shruti, Duggu rooms. NOW.”

Me: “Why yell at them? I’m leaving. And hear me clearly — if you put any random girl in front of me and say ‘marry her,’ I WON’T. She should at least match my standard. I’m not marrying just anybody.”

Mummy: “Akash, where will you go at night? We want the best for you. You’re old enough to marry…”

Me: “Old enough? Really?”

Papa: “At your age, I had three kids already.”

Me: “Then get Rohan married. He’ll give you grandkids next year too. Why don’t you understand? I’m not ready — mentally for marriage or for kids.”

Uncle : “Bhaiya, he’s very angry right now. You know he doesn’t listen when angry.”

Papa: “Should I be scared of my own son’s temper now?”

Me: “I said what I said. Don’t bring up marriage again.”

Aunty: “Stay, beta. Tomorrow is Duggu’s birthday.”

Me: “I’ll come tomorrow. Let me leave tonight.”

I head toward the door.

Papa: “Akash, stop. Elders are speaking — learn to respect.”

Me: “I AM respecting you, Papa. That’s why I’ve tolerated so much.”

He’s about to say more when—

Mummy: “Bas. Enough. Don’t talk to grown children like this. You can’t force him.”

Me: “I’ll come tomorrow. Let me go.”

Mummy: “Where?”

Me: “Vishal’s flat.”

I take the car keys and leave.

Outside, I light a cigarette, inhaling deeply.

When will parents understand marriage is a lifelong commitment, not a pressure button to press?

India is full of unhappy couples who married under pressure, had kids, and then destroyed their own emotional stability — and their children’s too.

I’m not ready. Mentally, emotionally — no.

I reach Neha’s flat and ring the bell.

Neha: “OMG! Akash! Surprise? Or… again a fight at home?”

Me: “Already answered too many questions today. Need a break.”

Neha: “Okay, okay sorry. Come in.”

We sit on the couch.

Neha: “Headache? Should I massage?”

Me: “Please.”

She massages my head gently.

Neha: “Dinner?”

Me: “No.”

Neha: “I’ll make something.”

Me: “After the massage.”

Neha: “Marriage topic again?”

Me: “Hmm.”

Neha: “Well… your parents are right. Thirty is the age to marry.”

Me: “Neha, not you too.”

Neha: “My parents also keep asking when you will talk to them.”

Me: “Leave the massage, Neha. I think I’ll go to Vishal’s.”

Neha: “Okay, okay sorry. No marriage talk. I’ll cook.”

She walks toward the kitchen.

Neha: “Only bhindi at home…”

Me: “I’m going to sleep.”

Neha: “Maggie?”

Me: “No. I’m sleeping.”

Ten minutes later. ..

I'm lying in her bed.Lights dimmed super low.

Eyes heavy like lead.Trying hard to force sleep.But my mood is complete shit tonight.

Job stress.Parents calling every hour about marriage..

"Cigarette cravings itching bad in my fingers.

Mouth dry as sand.

Just want the world to go black and quiet.

No thoughts swirling.Neha slides in beside me quiet.

Her silk nightie whispers soft against pink sheets.

Riding up those smooth thighs I know too well.

Smell her perfume mixed with warm skin.

Usually comfort.

But tonight? Nah.Too much noise in my head.

"Neha, stop."

"I want to sleep."

"Mood's bad."I mutter rough.Rolling away quick.Back to her.Staring at the wall like it's the enemy.

"What? Akash, your mood is never right."Her hand finds my chest anyway.

Fingers light.Tracing slow circles over my t-shirt.

Warmth seeps through the cotton."I always take the first step."

"And still you act like this—""Then break up with me."

"Find a better boyfriend."Words snap out harsh.Biting.But my body tenses.Not just anger.Already feeling her too close.Heat radiating off her skin.

She ignores it.Wraps around me tight from behind like a koala.

Full breasts press soft and warm against my back.Hard nipples poking sharp through thin silk.

Her breath hot on my neck

"You're the best for me, Akash."Voice cracks a little.

Real worry there."Quit cigarettes, please..."

"Your health, your temper—everything is getting affected."Sigh deep and heavy.

Eyes still locked on that wall crack."I'm trying, yaar."

"But stress... job is killing me.""Parents with marriage drama 24/7."

"Everything piling up."

"Do you even want marriage? Or not?"Her tone turns serious.Lips brush my neck warm.Accidental on purpose."And... will you marry me?

I turn just enough.Catch her eyes big, hopeful, scared in the dim light.Lean in slow.Kiss her forehead gentle and soft."I want marriage someday..."

"And yes, with you."

"Don't worry, okay?"She smiles small.Relief floods her face.Hugs me even tighter.Room falls quiet again.But sleep?Still miles away.

Me: “Good night. Tomorrow you and i have hospital early.”

She kisses me back.

Neha: “I love you, Akash.”

Me: “…Good night.”

I lie down, staring at the ceiling.

Neha is ideal — beautiful, a doctor, my best friend for 8 years.

Yet something inside me resists marriage.

Something is missing.

Maybe once I become a cardiologist officially, I’ll feel ready.

I Drifting to sleep

Morning.

Neha wakes me with a kiss.

Neha: “Good morning. Here’s your coffee.”

I sit up.

Me: “Morning… thanks.”

She sits beside me.

Neha: “Shift here with me?”

Me: “You know I wants to stay with my family.”

Neha: “So after marriage, we’ll stay with your family too?”

Me: “Is that a problem?”

She smiles and hugs me.

Neha: “Your family is big, but lovely. I don’t mind living with them.”

Me: “They’re good… but obsessed with my marriage.”

Neha: “Then just agree. Next year Sia and Vishal will marry too. We can marry on the same day — four best friends, one wedding story. Our kids will laugh hearing it.”

I simply nod. What else can I say?

We get ready for the hospital.

After whole day sending with my patients

At evening , outside the hospital…

Vishal: “You good? Smile, bro. Sadness doesn’t suit you.”

Me: “Shut up. Don’t act like my girlfriend.”

Vishal: “Honestly speaking, even boys had a crush on you in college.”

Me: “And were you one of them?”

Vishal: “Nope. I loved Sia from day one. And next year, we’re getting married. You and Neha too, right?”

Me: “Stop. Everyone is talking about marriage — home, Neha, and now you too?”

Sia and Neha walk in.

Sia: “Bad habit! You two sneak here to smoke? Both of you are doctors! And Akash, you’re becoming a cardiologist — how can you smoke?”

Vishal: “Ladies, relax. We’re stressed.”

Sia snatches our cigarettes.

Sia: “Even we’re stressed but don’t smoke!”

My phone rings —

I answer.

Duggu: “You forgot my birthday, didn’t you? I turned 8! You didn’t come home!”

Me: “No, Duggu. I was planning a surprise. I’m coming right now.”

I cut the call.

Me: “Okay bye, guys. I forgot Duggu’s birthday.”

Neha: “I’ll come too—”

Me: “No. Call him later. It’s better if I go alone.”

I rush to the car, stop at a toy store, buy five toy racing cars.

Duggu will break them in a day, but at least he’ll smile.

I reach home.

Music is blasting inside — the birthday celebration has begun.

As I walk into the living room, the song playing is:

🎶Koi sehari babu dil lehari babu…

Pag bandh gaya ghunghru, main chham chham nachdi phiran🎶

Mummy, Shruti, Aunty…

And a girl in a red suit, long hair dancing gracefully.

Duggu and his friends are cheering.

And then she turns.

My smile appears instantly.

Me (whispering): “Meera? Wow… she looks beautiful. And so grown up. And her dancing—”

I remember hearing two proposals rejected her.

Idiots. Absolute idiots.

Still smiling, I walk forward—

And she spins right into me.

I try catching her.

The toy cars slip from my hand… crash on the floor…

And then she slips, and I fall right on top of her.

Kids burst into laughter.

Me: “Hi…”

Meera: “Get off me.”

Me: “What?”

Meera: “Get. Off. You’re heavy.”

Me: “You’ve grown up a lot, Meera.”

Meera: “What?!”

Me: “Nothing. I’m getting up.”

Duggu starts crying — his toy cars are broken.

The whole family rushes to him.

I’m still looking at Meera.

Why? I don’t know.

Her dance? Her smile? Something.

Music. Duggu crying. People talking.

But all I see is Meera walking past me.

My phone rings — Neha.

And, though it shouldn't happen…

my smile fades.

To be continued…

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CHARACTERS INTRODUCTION

AKASH'S SIDE

Mukesh Sharma- father

Rekha Sharma- mother

Shruti Sharma- younger sister

Rohan Sharma -younger brother

Suresh Sharma - uncle

Geeta Sharma-aunty

Duggu ( Abhiraj Sharma) -cousin brother

Neha- Gf

Sia and Vishal- friends

MEERA'S SIDE

Amar Singh- father

Jaya Singh- mother

Rahul singh- younger brother

Sidharth- Best friend