The Life I Never Lived

One evening, I lie on my bed, completely engrossed in a webtoon. Sometimes I get so lost in those stories that the world around me disappears.

For a few hours, I can almost convince myself that I am living inside those pages, watching the story unfold, meeting fascinating people, and experiencing a life far more exciting than my own.

I often find myself wishing for the same things as the female leads: To wake up in another world, start over, build a successful career, find someone who truly loves me, fall hopelessly in love, and eventually get the happy ending I always read about.

I know it's impossible. But what's wrong with dreaming?

"Priya," Mom calls.

I keep reading.

"Priya," she says again.

I turn to another page.

"Priyaaaa!" her voice rises across the room.

"Are you deaf? Can't you hear me?"

Yes, Mom. I can hear you perfectly well. Thanks for asking. She can be so annoying sometimes, I mutter to myself. I reluctantly put my phone down and look at her.

"So, what brings you here, Mom?" I ask.

She walks into my room with the kind of expression that immediately makes me suspicious.

"You know, beta, I've been thinking..." she says.

Oh no. That sentence never leads anywhere good.

"It's time for your marriage," she says.

"Marriage?" I stare at her. "What do you mean?"

"Priya, you're already twenty-five years old. You help us with the family business, but you still don't have a stable career, a proper goal, or even a boyfriend," she says.

She pauses, as though she's presenting evidence in court.

"If you get any older, it will become difficult to find a good match. This is the right time for you to get married and settle down. Who knows? Maybe you'll become a wonderful wife and mother," she says and smiles proudly at the thought.

I, on the other hand, feel my soul slowly leaving my body.

"And this morning, your dad received a marriage proposal for you. The boy has a good job, he's an engineer, owns an apartment in South Mumbai, and has only one sister. It's a small family. You'll be very happy," she says.

"Mom, please... I don't want an arranged marriage," I say.

She looks at me.

"I want to fall in love first. I want to go on dates. I want to actually get to know someone before deciding to spend the rest of my life with him. Marriage is a huge decision. We shouldn't rush into it. And twenty-five isn't old," I say, sitting up straighter.

"If you think I'm old enough to get married, then why do I still need your permission just to go on a trip with my friends?" I ask, crossing my arms.

"Beta, in our society, many women are already married by twenty-five. Some even have one or two children," she says.

"Mom, please stop. You're becoming really annoying," I groan.

My voice softens, but my frustration doesn't.

"I'm not ready for marriage. Not emotionally, and definitely not physically. Marriage isn't something you can just decide one morning because someone sent you a photograph. It's a huge commitment," I say.

Before my mother can respond, the door opens and my dad walks into the room. Apparently, he's been standing outside and listening to our entire conversation. Of course he has.

"At least look at his photo," Dad says and holds his phone out toward me.

I glance at the screen. The man in the photograph looks perfectly ordinary. I stare at him for a second.

"He looks ugly, Dad. How could you even choose someone like him for me?" I say.

My father doesn't even blink. He looks at me calmly.

"You're not exactly a beauty yourself. Go look in the mirror first," he says.

Silence. His words hit me like a slap.

"Both of you, please leave my room," I say, slowly pointing toward the door.

Neither of them argues. They walk out and I shut the door behind them.

Who even says something like that to his own daughter? I fall backward onto my bed with an irritated sigh. For the past two years, my parents have been constantly pressuring me to get married. Honestly, they're starting to sound exactly like those relatives who somehow believe my marital status is their personal responsibility.

I turn my head. Bubu is lying beside me, completely unconcerned with the crisis that is my life. I reach over and gently stroke her head.

"You're so lucky, Bubu," I whisper.

She opens one eye.

"You don't have to deal with annoying parents. You just sleep, eat, play, and poop," I say and sigh dramatically. "Seriously... lucky you."

Bubu stares at me for approximately two seconds before jumping off the bed. She walks straight toward her food bowl.

I watch her leave.

"Wow. Thanks for listening to me," I say and shake my head. Apparently, even my cat has better things to do.

I lie back down and stare at the ceiling. I don't have any real passion in life. I'm a complete introvert. I don't have a proper career. I only help out at my dad's restaurant and earn some pocket money. I tried getting a job once. It didn't work out. My love life? Absolutely nonexistent. I can't even remember the last time I made proper eye contact with a guy without immediately looking away.

I even tried a dating app once. That didn't work either. I never liked anyone enough to actually meet them. Somewhere along the way, I stopped being able to form an emotional attachment to anyone, and I don't know why.

Maybe this life doesn't belong to me at all. Maybe I was meant for somewhere else, somewhere different, somewhere I could become the person I've always wanted to be.

My thoughts slowly blur together. I don't remember when I fell asleep. All I remember is the warmth of tears still clinging to my cheeks.

I close my eyes, never knowing that this ordinary evening is the last night I will ever spend as Priya Bose in this world.

I have no idea that when I wake up, I will no longer be living the life I thought was mine.

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