The hum of the keyboard was Roohi Ahuja’s solace. Her work as an IT professional wasn’t just a career - it was her escape, her identity, her rebellion against a world that often tried to define her in ways she didn’t want to be defined. From her corner desk in a bustling corporate office to the late nights spent troubleshooting bugs in complex code, Roohi had built a life of competence and control.
Yet, even in her meticulously structured world, cracks were beginning to show.
Roohi had always been a studious person. In school, her head was often buried in books, her focus unwavering as she chased her dreams of academic excellence. But the price of being the “bright one” was steep. She never had many friends; classmates saw her as someone to admire but never truly befriend. In college, things were no different. People gravitated toward her only when they needed help with assignments or exam notes. And once the semester ended, so did their interest in her.
It left her with a sense of loneliness she didn’t talk about. Roohi had learned to rely on herself, to build a world where she didn’t need anyone. But sometimes, in the quiet moments, she wondered what it would feel like to have someone who stayed, not for what she could give them, but simply for who she was.
The constant ping of her phone wasn’t from clients or colleagues but from her mother - Anjali, and her aunts. Their inquiries always revolved around one thing - marriage proposals.
“Roohi, beta, you’re 25 now. How much longer will you wait? It’s time to settle down.”
Roohi sighed as she scrolled through the string of messages. Her family’s idea of “settling down” felt more like giving up - giving up her independence, her freedom, and the dreams she had carefully nurtured over the years. She wasn’t opposed to marriage; she simply wasn’t ready to trade her hard-earned life for one that didn’t feel like her own.
Her mind wandered to the last proposal she’d met. The man had seemed polite, a software engineer like her, but his questions had grated on her nerves.
“Would you consider working fewer hours after marriage? It’s important for a wife to prioritize her husband and family, you know.”
The meeting had ended with Roohi politely declining, though what she really wanted to do was throw her coffee at him. Why was it so hard to find someone who saw her as an equal, as a person with her own dreams?
"I don’t want a man who completes me," Roohi had told her mother during one of their arguments. "I want someone who sees me as already complete."
Despite the constant barrage of expectations, Roohi wasn’t entirely immune to doubt. There were moments, in the quiet of her apartment, when she wondered if she was being too idealistic, too rigid in her search for a partner. But those moments never lasted long. She had worked too hard, sacrificed too much, to settle for a life that didn’t feel like hers.
The weight of these thoughts followed Roohi into her daily life. At work, she thrived, earning accolades for her innovative solutions and sharp leadership skills. But outside those walls, she often felt like a chess piece being moved across a board she hadn’t chosen to play on.
And yet, amidst the frustration, there was a quiet hope that kept her going. Maybe, just maybe, there was someone out there who would see her for who she was—a woman with ambition, compassion, and a fiercely independent spirit.
For now, though, Roohi chose to focus on what she could control. The rest, she decided, would come in its own time.
Write a comment ...