CHAPTER - 2

~Amara~

There are times in your lives which are supposed to be the happiest moments of your life and which are supposed to bring joy that can't be matched to anything else, and when you are high with happiness in those moments, you tend to mess up a few things. Maybe not everybody, but I definitely do that, quite a lot.

As I was rushing towards the café where my best friend was waiting for me, I couldn't help but recall one such moment of my life, the moment whose aftermaths I was currently facing.

My family dinners were anything to be happy about. In simple words they were just pain in the ass. But it was the announcement that my brother, Neil, had made that night that had me dancing happily for the next five minutes. He had proposed to his girlfriend, Ashmita and obviously she had agreed to marry him.

My parents had the same look on their face that they had when Neil had become a heart surgeon. It was that big a moment! Obviously, it would have been because my perfect brother had found the most perfect girl for him, who herself was a doctor.

Five minutes later, my parents had turned their 'not so welcomed' attention towards me, making me stop dancing and press my lips in a grimace. "Amara," my mother had started in a tone I so well knew, "-what about you, sweety?"

"What about me? I'd be dancing in my brother's wedding!" I had grinned and my brother had chuckled at my reply. We had high fived each other, trying to be oblivious of the impending questions and disappointed glances coming my way.

I knew I was about to go downhill for the five hundred and seventy eighth time in my life, when my mother asked, "Will you be bringing a date on the wedding?"

And just for the sake of not messing up the one dinner I was so happy at, I had smiled and told my parents, "Okay, it's new but I'm getting to know a doctor back in New York. I just wanted to tell you guys once we get serious, but since this question came up, I'm telling you." This was obviously a big fat lie and I had no idea from where it came up.

But my parents didn't know that. All they did was look skeptically at me for a few seconds and asked, "What's his name?"

"I told you, I'll introduce you guys only if everything is good between us. We are just getting to know each other, and if all goes well, I'll definitely bring him to the wedding." Sometimes, I even surprised myself with how perfectly I could lie at anybody's face.

My parents had smiled at me, and then my dad had put across one fact that mattered equally to him, "We hope he is an Indian."

With a tight smile, I had answered, "Hundred percent Indian!"

I cursed myself for the thousandth time for making up that lie, because the wedding was in a week and I was still very much single. I entered the café and spotted my only hope - my best friend at a table at the far corner.

"So?"I started the moment I sat beside Cheryl, without caring about the formalities of getting into greetings, "Any good news?"

"It's a girl!" Cheryl grinned over enthusiastically.

Replacing the look of urgency from my face, I shot her a deadpanned look. "Stop bullsh*ting me." Cheryl chose to laugh at my almost there warning. "C'mon! Tell me the good news! Tell me that you found the perfect one."

My dear friend, once again, chose to ignore the obvious topic I was talking about, and answered, "Of course, I've found my perfect one. You know him way too well."

Not having the time to kill around, I decided to do the only thing that could bring her out of the 'joke zone' that she was currently in and to the actual serious topic in hand. I slapped her lightly. "Now shut the f*ck up." Cheryl laughed some more in reply which made me smile as well, like always. She had the most infectious laugh, which reminded me of Phoebe from Friends. And whenever we sat to watch the TV series together, I always pointed it out to her and she, just for the sake of not agreeing with me, would refuse, but whenever Phoebe laughed, she laughed along with her in a creepily similar fashion. Coming back to the present, I told her, "I have a flight to catch and I really can't get into all this. So, just put a pause on your craziness for once and show me the profiles."

"Okay, okay," She huffed in fake annoyance. "To answer your first question, yes, I have good news."

I smiled in little relief. And in that little relief, I drank the drink that she had ordered for herself before I joined her in this little café. Instantly, I kept it back as my lips turned down in disgust. It took everything in me to not puke it out. "Why on earth are you drinking Turmeric Milk?"

She shot me a confused look. "That's Turmeric Latte and it's awesome!"

I looked at her in disbelief as she started devouring the awful drink which was so fondly called as 'Turmeric Latte' as if it was something heavenly. "My dear, Cher-," I tried to have her attention, and when I had it, I continued, "-just to refresh your short term memory, I'm an American Indian born to Indian parents and nobody can know about this awful drink which was a childhood nightmare better than me." Cheryl was about to say something, but I didn't give her a chance, "And if you ever want to taste a better version of the 'latte' that you are having like your life depends on it, let me know, because I'm a chef and I can do a lot better."

Cheryl asked with a grin, "Don't you have a flight to catch?"

My eyes widened as I realized that I was getting late. It was all turmeric milk's fault. "Yes, I have, so stop distracting me! And now, show me the profiles."

She smirked and flipped out her phone out of her purse. "So, like you asked, I've shortlisted the candidates on the basis of the list that you had given me-"

"You call four simple points a list?" I interrupted her in mock surprise, showing four fingers as if to prove a point. "Remember the list you gave me when I went to India?"

Cheryl laughed, probably recalling the time I had just mentioned about. About four years ago, when Cheryl came to know that I had decided to go India for who knows how long, to learn authentic Indian cooking, she had given me an extensive list that contained about fifty items that I had to bring for her. I brought five out of the entire list. I smiled fondly at the memory of Cher looking at me with mock disappointment.

"We were discussing something urgent and you've a flight to catch," Cher interrupted my nostalgic thoughts.

"Why the f*ck do I keep getting distracted?" I wondered out loud, shaking my head.

"There's nothing new about that," she commented nonchalantly.

I chuckled a bit, remembering a very funny incident related to this fact of my life. "Oh, yeah! Remember the time when..."

"You are doing it again, Amy!" She, thankfully, interrupted me.

"Crap! Sorry. Show me the damn list, Cher! I do not have all day," I told her, well, more to myself.

"Yes, definitely." With that she started showing me her phone where she opened, much to my horror, Tinder. "So, I have shortlisted many guys for you-"

"On Tinder?" I interrupted her, feeling shell shocked.

She shot me a sweet smile and said, "My dear friend, just to refresh your memory a little, I'm a nurse, not a matchmaker. Tinder is the only source I have and don't worry, it is a well thought out plan." Without giving time for me to throw light on the huge loophole in her 'well thought out plan', she started showing me the profiles one after the other. After about five useless profiles which involved her fanning herself looking at the pictures and saying, "He is so Indian" I snatched the phone away from her.

"Cher." I took in a deep breath, calming myself. "No; none of these. This is a fail. My own brother's wedding is going to be super embarrassing for me. All my cousins will flaunt their gorgeous perfect fiancés or boyfriends, and again, I'll be the only one without a partner. My Mom will make these ten days so damn difficult for me. Neither am I a doctor like my entire f*cking family, nor do I have a boyfriend who is a doctor. Hell, my family loves you more than they love me all because you are in the medical profession. This is screwed! Oh, and the last guy you just showed me was obviously Chinese. I want Indian!"

She didn't pay even an ounce of heed on whatever I was saying and I stared at my best friend as she scrolled through various Tinder profiles with a dreamy sigh as if I hadn't just said something damn important. "Sometimes," she started, "I miss being single. I mean, I really want to know how many right swipes I would get."

I ignored her wishful thinking and told her, "You do know that Tinder is purely for hook ups, right?"

"Well, that's not true. I've seen couples-"

I interrupted her, "Cher, my best friend, Cher, I'm not here to discuss Tinder with you. I'm here to find a solution of my problem." She opened her mouth to say something but before she could, I said, "And Tinder, the 'oh-so-amazing and perfect cupid', is not helping at all." She closed her mouth at that and grimaced at me.

I knew that she could understand my problems. She knew my family. She knew how obsessed they were with having a pure Indian lineage and how crazy they were about the medical profession.

Hell, my parents liked Cher better than me as she was a nurse and I was merely a chef. And in the words of my dear Mom, "We have maids for cooking food for us, Amara. You need to find a real profession!"

"Is there no eligible Indian doctor in your hospital?" I asked her after self-pitying for a while.

"Of course, there is. Remember Dr. Gupta?" she asked, with a teasing glint in her eyes.

Quickly, I recalled the Hulk sized thirty two year old doctor who looked like he was going to drown in his own drool when I met him for the first and the last time. I shuddered at the memory and asked her, "How can you call him eligible?" She laughed in reply.

Once her laughter was over, she straightened up. "See, we can't find someone in such a short notice. Why don't you just tell your parents that you don't have a date for the wedding as you broke with the doctor you were dating?"

A miserable chuckle escaped my lips and I told her, "And give them one more topic to look down at me? Then they will fix me up with a guy because obviously, 'Amara is not capable enough' and then I'll be marrying that guy before you can say 'Crap'. No, thanks!"

"Come on, they are not that bad. I've met them, remember? And they were so sweet to me." Cheryl reminded me, as if I needed a reminder of that day years ago when Cheryl and I used to be roommates and my parents had come over to meet me in my new apartment for the first time. The moment Cheryl had told them that she was a nurse, I could see stars in their eyes with creepy ass smiles on their faces, showing that they were proud of my roommate, and then they turned to look at me with exactly opposite expressions that said, 'If only you could choose something decent as a career.' They had looked at me as if I was a disgrace, which I probably was.

In a family of doctors and PHDs, I was the only one who always scored just about average in my entire school life. No matter how much I tried, I could never actually score more than I was doing. I just survived school. My brother, on the other hand, was the brightest kid ever. He was a geek, the kind of geek who studies all the time and when they get some free time, they study some more. It was like his hobby was studying!

While mine were doing DIYs for home decors in my room, dancing, reading books that were not even remotely related to my course subjects, and most importantly, experimenting in the kitchen. It's a different matter that my hobbies sometimes took a toll on our actual home decor and many a times, I created huge blunders in our kitchen, while my brother stayed focused on his actual course book even during those blunders.

And that made my life even more miserable. Not my brother. He is my darling. I love him more than anything. But, his intelligence. The comparisons never stopped and hence, my irritation kept on growing.

Reminding the entire scenario to Cher seemed like a tiresome task and not wanting to stress myself some more, I avoided the same. Not to forget I had a flight to catch in a few hours.

A groan escaped my lips in annoyance. "Oh my God! All my relatives will kill me by taunting me all the f*cking time about my profession and then they will show pity towards me by trying to fix my marriage with almost every eligible pharmacist they know!" I exaggerated my misery just for the sake of it.

Cheryl didn't find me funny as she asked rather seriously, "Why would they marry you off to some pharmacist?"

I answered her with a snort, "Probably that's the only profession related to medicine field where someone would agree to marry me."

She smiled a little at my sarcasm. "Can't you just tell everyone to f*ck off and mind their own business? I mean, you don't even want to marry right now, do you?" She raised an eyebrow probably recalling our last discussion on this topic. That discussion had taken place five months back when I had informed her that my perfect brother was soon going to be someone's perfect husband.

"I've lost count of how many times I had this discussion with them." I sighed. "It's just that... I want them to stop looking at me like I'm some dumb piece of sh*t every time. You know? I want them to meet me without their always full complaint box. And just for once, I don't want to explain and clarify my single status with a struggling career to each and every one of my nosey relative. It's my brother's wedding and I just want to enjoy it without any emotional baggage." She nodded sympathetically. "But, from where the hell am I going to find some Indian doctor who will be willing to be my pretend boyfriend for a week?"

"Umm.. Hi!" Our heads snapped towards the new voice. It was some guy who was looking down at me with his grey eyes and a wide grin on his cute face.

"Hi." I smiled back with a confused look on my face. "Do I know you?"

He shook his head and said, "Sorry, I couldn't help but overhear your discussion. I'm John, by the way."

"Well John, that's a very rude thing to do," I told him with a frown.

He smiled apologetically. "But what if I tell you that I can help you with your problem?"

I stared at his face with a bemused smile. "Dear John," I started referring to the movie as a joke, and continued, "You do know that you don't look like an Indian, right?"

He grinned at me and for a moment I was blinded by his bright teeth. Was he doing some toothpaste commercial? They could definitely cast him! "Dear-"

"Amara." I filled him in and motioned towards my friend who was quietly watching the exchange between Dear John and Dear Amara, "-and that's Cheryl."

He grinned at her too and looked back at me. "So as I was saying, Dear Amara, I know I'm not an Indian, but my best friend is. And I think he fulfills your set of requirements because he is an Indian doctor settled here in New York."

I stared at him with mouth and eyes wide open as if he was God sent. Probably he was. Cheryl decided to speak first. "See, John, we thank you for your help but -"

"Why don't you take a seat first?" I interrupted her with a wide smile, totally ignoring the shocked look that Cheryl shot me with.

**

"Do you have any idea about how f*cking crazy you sound?" I asked John, the moment he finished explaining his amazing plan.

He smirked a bit. "I was just trying to help you. If you don't want my help and want to end up having an arranged marriage with some pharmacist who you would probably not even like, then it's your call. I, honestly, have nothing to lose."

I stared at him in complete confusion. Apparently, that's exactly what I had been doing since the last half an hour. It took me about half an hour to understand his entire plan. Not that his plan was that big, but it was plain confusing. So that half hour consisted of - John telling us his plan for first five minutes, I staring at him for the next five, him retelling us his plan in proper detail for the next eight minutes, then I, again, staring at him for the next eight, then him getting worked up and telling his plan to us again in quick four minutes. And then when the fifth minute of me staring at him started for the third time, Cheryl reminded me in a super urgent and irritated voice, "Amara! You have a flight to catch."

"So, you mean to say-" I started, putting his long explanation in simple words, "-you will tell your friend that I'm your girlfriend but because of my family's stupid reasons, I can't introduce you to my family. So for my brother's wedding, you will request your friend to be my fake boyfriend, which you are sure that he will do, right?"

He grinned at me as he took a sip of his coffee. "Finally, you understood!" he declared with an exasperated sigh.

I looked at Cher who was looking skeptical of this entire arrangement. She asked him, "Why do you actually want your friend to do this?"

With a grimace, he answered, "He is going through some issues in his life and he deserves a break."

"A break where he gets to be someone's fake boyfriend?" I asked in a flat tone.

He chuckled. "Not someone's. Remember, in his eyes, you are my girlfriend. So he is doing a favor to me - to his best friend."

I blinked my eyes a few times and squared my shoulders as I summarized the entire possible scenario. "So, in a nutshell, I'm going to have two fake boyfriends this entire time. Your friend will be my fake boyfriend in front of my family. And you will be my fake boyfriend in front of your friend."

He grinned some more. "Yup."

"How f*cking fake is my life?" I asked from no one in particular, getting confused with the solution I was offered.

"This is totally messed up, Amy," Cheryl told me as if it was a brand new information.

John rolled his eyes. "Do you have any other option?" Before I could answer and tell him to get lost as I was least interested in making my life more complicated, he looked towards his phone and asked, "Don't you have a flight to catch?"

My eyes widened in realization. My only way to get out of one kind of mess was to land myself in an entirely new one. And since I was such an expert with messes, I agreed to handle this one too.

"Tell me about your friend." I sighed.

**

A/N

How did you like Amara? Do leave your feedback in comments. It's going to get a lot more fun, I promise! And I'll upload frequently now, I promise again! :)

I picture Deepika Padukone (Indian actress) as Amara as she is my favourite. You are free to imagine her as who ever you want.

Stay tuned! Love! <3