After a hectic one-hour long bus ride, I reached home, feeling exhausted and famished. The first thing I noticed as I opened the gate was that all my elder sisters were present in the house with their children. Well, that was strange.

I mean, not so strange because they all lived close by and they visited us often. But all of them being here at the same time, that too on a weekday evening, seemed a little weird. This generally happened only on important occasions like a festival, a birthday or something of that sort. Otherwise, it was just mom, dad, my younger sister Zoya and myself at home.

I walked inside to be welcomed by the sight of all my niblings seated on the sofa, watching one of their favorite cartoons on TV in the hall. Actually, why did middle-class brown families even place the TV in the hall? I had always wondered. It was so stupid!

I spoke a few words with the kids and made my way to the room. Mom and Shaheen were preparing some list, Aira was busy feeding her newborn, Zoya was on her phone as usual and Daneen was meddling with my wardrobe.

"Ah she is here," said Shaheen with a wide grin as soon as she saw me. It looked like they were awaiting my arrival.

"So, what's special? Why is everyone here all of a sudden?" I asked.

"We are prepping for tomorrow," said mom with a smile. I was confused. What was so special about tomorrow?

Wait. Was this about the damn bride-seeking drama in any way? I hoped not. I mean, I did not expect it to happen so soon.

"Apparently your Prince Charming is coming tomorrow, dear sister," said Aira in a teasing tone, clearing my doubts about what I had assumed. It was indeed the bride-seeking drama!

Everyone in the room burst into laughter in response to what Aira said. But not me. I rather cringed at her choice of words.

Prince Charming? Seriously?

I was not sure whether she cracked a joke or meant it for real because Aira was the funniest among us as well as the number one hopeless romantic I knew. She was a huge Darcy fan and she often told me that I should find a husband like him. Poor thing. She idolized love a little too much.

So, yes, maybe she used the words 'Prince Charming' because she yearned for me to have the best fate but I was annoyed.

I mean, in what world did a Prince Charming or Darcy want to marry an overweight girl? Answer — none! That was why there were no fairytales or classics written about girls like me. The world had forever believed that only slim and slender girls deserved the happily ever afters and perfect endings. Not the chubby ones like me.

Heartbreaking, but that was reality.

Aira's words and the others' giggles made it evident that my family was overly excited about some unknown guy's visit. It looked like they were already dreaming about the possibility of a wedding.

Pathetic and typical brown family behavior.

"But tomorrow is a working day for me. Why can't they come during the weekend?" I asked, as I took off my hijab.

Zoya nodded as if to agree with me. She probably did. But she wouldn't say it — not in front of the others. She always played safe with her words.

Zoya was my complete opposite. I spoke too much and she spoke too little. I was way too careful with my decisions and she was absolutely impulsive with them. She had a job a few days back but she quit it simply because it was too boring and now she stayed at home, checking out vacancies from morning till night.

I guess, she was just the perfect example of a lastborn — spoilt and reckless.

"They will come only at 7:00 pm. You would be home by then, right?" asked Shaheen.

"I guess so," I replied with a sigh and entered the washroom to freshen up.

For some strange reason, I wasn't feeling good about this one. I didn't know exactly why I felt what I felt. But I was disturbed for sure.

I was scared. I was nervous. And it felt a lot like I was not ready for it.

Now, I was not a misandrist. In other words, I did not hate men.

Of course, they were turning out to be extremely disappointing with each passing day and I heard a good deal of stories about disloyal, crooked, cheating men from many around me. But somehow I did not hate men as a whole. Either because I was so single that I had never personally faced any bad experiences with them or perhaps it was my age. I mean, with age came the maturity to know that not all men were the same.

There were good men out there, at least a very tiny percent. I knew that. Or maybe I just wanted to believe that.

Anyway, since I didn't hate men, I wasn't against the idea of marriage either. But at the same time, I was also not desperate for it.

I guess, I was what someone would call a semi-hopeless romantic, that is if there was a term like that. The thing with me was that I enjoyed the idea of true love. I wanted one for myself. But I also believed that I could live with or without a man.

I was after all a strong, independent woman.

I always told myself that I would let my family do this finding-a-husband-for-me drama only until I turned a certain age. If I am still single by 30, I would leave home. I would leave the country for good. I would go in search of a new beginning in a new place where nobody knew me. I would work there and earn a lot of money just so that I could travel around and enjoy all the great cuisines of the world.

I often had dreams of that kind. Beautiful dreams about a free, single life where nobody judged me for the way I ate or the weight I carried. Just me and my life.

Sometimes the dream seemed so much better than my reality that I thought I should not even wait till I turned 30 but just go for it right way. But then I had no idea how I was going to do that.

Unlike most brown families who had relatives working in different parts of the world, we had none. All my relatives were pretty useless and confined to Sri Lanka. Therefore, there was no one to help me or guide me with finding jobs in a foreign country. Besides, even if I did get an opportunity like such, my family wouldn't agree to me moving out alone.

So, yes, in a way I knew it was just a silly dream of mine. It will never come true.

Sigh.

"Lish, come on. Show me your best dresses. We need to choose one for tomorrow," said Daneen so excitedly the moment I walked out of the washroom.

Well, that was typical Daneen with her immense love for fashion. She adored pretty clothes so much that she often turned out to be our personal stylist.

Daneen was the most cheerful one among us. She always had a smile plastered on her face, despite what she was going through. She was married for three years but had no children and the society constantly harassed her with their stupid questions, especially her in-laws. The same in-laws who also made her diet for months and lose weight drastically before her wedding because she was overweight too.

In fact, all of us sisters were chubby.

"Let me eat first. I'm terribly hungry," I said to Daneen and asked mom whether dinner was ready. She nodded and went to the kitchen. I too followed her.

And there it was! The signs of a possible argument with mom for the day.

The food she had prepared was too little. I mean, considering the number of people at home during that particular moment, it was not enough.

Mom always had a problem with quantities and I could never keep my mouth shut whenever it happened.

"Is this all?" I asked in frustration.

"Yeah."

"But it's not enough."

"No, it will be enough. We can manage with this," replied mom in an annoyed tone.

Mom was not stingy. She was thrifty. I knew that. I mean, for years, she had managed a large family like ours with dad's meager income that even now when times were much better, she still had the same frugal habits. But I could not accept it.

As a foodie I believed that serving or being served food scantily was one of the ugliest things in the world!

"Mom, are you serious? Everyone's staying for dinner, right? It won't suffice."

"You are never content, Alisha. Nothing is ever enough for you. This is why there's no weight loss too," she said rather angrily.

My heart ached. My own mom fat shamed me. Everyone did. It hurt so much.

"I don't want dinner," I said and I walked away even though I was very hungry. One person out of the equation meant a little more extra food for the others, I thought. So, I decided to go to bed without my dinner.

I returned back to the room and tried on a few clothes for Daneen's sake. Each time I looked at the mirror I only saw my enormous size. I generally did not think I was ugly but at that moment I did. My heart was truly broken.

Mom kept coming to the room from time to time and hurled angry words at me. My sisters advised me. They said that they could understand my pain but I knew they couldn't. Because none of them had a complex relationship with mom like I did. We both were constantly at war with each other and sometimes I even thought maybe she didn't love me.

Zoya was her pet. Shaheen was the goody two shoes. Daneen was too sweet-natured for anyone to hate her. Aira was the only other person who used to have issues with mom but then that was when she was a young girl and not anymore. So, I felt like the only bad one in the family. Maybe there was something wrong with me. And that was probably my weight.

A little later, once everyone had left, Zoya said, "You look upset."

"Obviously, you saw what happened tonight," I replied with a sigh.

"No. I'm not talking about mom and you. That's so common. You both will be fine tomorrow. Even before the argument, you were slightly upset."

"I guess it's tomorrow's thing."

"What about it?"

"I don't know. I uh— I just don't feel good. There's this fear. I guess, it's the fear of rejection." That's right. I was afraid of getting rejected by a man and his family because of my weight. Again.

"But what if he likes you?" she asked with her poker face.

"I don't think he will. Just like the ones before, he too will reject me saying that I'm too fat," I said. It happened so much so often that I couldn't even keep the count of rejections anymore.

"Okay, let's see what happens tomorrow. By the way, do you want to see his picture? We found his Facebook profile," she replied.

I shook my head to say 'no'. I was busy checking out food on Instagram. At least that was there to make me feel better.

All these mouth-watering beef curries, parathas and biryanis from Kerala were too good for my eyes and I didn't want to get it spoiled by looking at some idiot's face.

I thought I'd let God handle things and decided not to overthink it. I was ready to accept any fate.

However, after a while, when I switched off the lights, put my phone aside and went to bed, I had this disturbing question in my mind.

"What did tomorrow hold for me?"

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Will Alisha meet the love of her life or yet another fat shamer tomorrow? 🤔😬
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