"Sometimes, the heart needs time to understand what the mind already knows."

The evening was calm, but the air was thick with unspoken thoughts. Vivaan sat in the living room, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the edges of the table. The ticking of the old wall clock echoed through the quiet room, a sound that usually brought him comfort but tonight felt like an incessant reminder of the passing time. The same routine he had followed for the past few weeks now felt like a chore - the meetings, the questions, and the awkward conversations. It was as though he was just going through the motions, not truly invested, not truly engaged.

The topic of his arranged marriage had come up several times before, but it always felt like an inevitable weight pressing down on his shoulders. The loss of his parents and younger brother in the accident still haunted him, and he had no idea how to proceed with anything resembling a relationship. His grandmother, Nirmala, had been adamant that it was time for him to move forward, to find someone who could perhaps bring joy back into his life. But he wasn’t ready for that. He didn’t even know if he ever would be.

Despite his reservations, he had agreed to meet a few potential matches. Each time, the meetings had ended in polite but unmistakable rejections. Vivaan had tried to engage in the conversations, but they always felt forced, as if both parties were just checking off boxes.

But today... today was different. Today, his family had invited Roohi Ahuja and her parents for a meeting. After a few months of unsuccessful proposals, the idea of another such conversation didn’t fill him with much hope, but his grandmother had insisted. “Give it a chance, Vivaan,” she had said gently. “You might just find someone who understands.”

A knock on the door broke Vivaan from his thoughts. His pulse quickened. He knew it was them - the Ahujas.

“Meera, please open the door,” Nirmala called out as she stood from the table. Her voice was calm, but there was a softness in it that Vivaan recognized. She was hoping this would work out, and he didn’t want to disappoint her.

Meera, ever the excited one, jumped up to answer the door. Vivaan lingered for a moment, unsure of how to prepare himself for this meeting. He had already mentally prepared for a polite exchange that would end without much fanfare.

In the living room, the door opened to reveal Roohi and her parents, Mr. and Mrs. Ahuja.

Vivaan slowly made his way into the room, where he was introduced to Roohi’s parents. Mr. Ahuja, though formal, gave a slight nod of approval. His sharp eyes, however, seemed to weigh Vivaan with a kind of critical assessment.

Mr. Ahuja’s tall, composed figure was matched by Mrs. Ahuja’s warm presence. They stepped inside with quiet confidence, their eyes scanning the modest but welcoming living room.

“Welcome,” Nirmala said warmly, gesturing for them to take their seats.

Vivaan stayed where he was, his heart heavy with the same apprehension that accompanied all these meetings. He observed as his sister, Meera, exchanged pleasantries with Mrs. Ahuja, who complimented the simple decor of their home.

After a few moments of polite conversation, Mr. Ahuja turned his attention to Vivaan. His sharp but kind eyes assessed him for a moment before speaking.

“So, Vivaan,” he began, his voice steady, “I’ll be honest with you, Roohi was reluctant when we first brought up this proposal. She’s been cautious about these meetings, as I’m sure you can understand.”

Vivaan nodded slightly, unsure of where this was going.

“But,” Mr. Ahuja continued, a faint smile playing on his lips, “once she heard about you and your work, something changed. She decided to look into your art, your exhibitions, your drawings. She may not admit it openly, but I could tell she was intrigued. I think it left an impression.”

Vivaan raised his eyebrows slightly, caught off guard. He nodded politely, feeling a growing discomfort. He couldn’t help but wonder what Roohi would be like, if she would be like the others - as someone who saw him as just another option, someone who would walk away after a couple of conversations, just like all the others.

Mrs. Ahuja leaned forward, her tone warm. “Roohi values sincerity, Vivaan. And your art, it reflects something real, something genuine. I think that’s what drew her interest.”

Nirmala, seated beside Vivaan, smiled softly. “He pours his heart into his work,” she said, her voice tinged with pride. “It’s good to hear that Roohi could see that.”

Mr. Ahuja nodded. “Sometimes, Vivaan, these meetings feel like a formality, I know. But connections can grow where we least expect them. Take your time. Be honest. That’s all that matters.”

After a few moments of conversation, Nirmala spoke up. “Vivaan, I think it’s time you have a conversation with Roohi,” she said softly, her voice carrying the weight of both expectation and hope.

Vivaan stiffened. He hadn’t been ready for this. His previous meetings had been nothing more than polite exchanges, with no real connection. What if this time was the same? What if this meeting ended in polite rejections, too?

Before he could gather his thoughts, Nirmala continued, “Roohi is a wonderful girl. She’s been through a lot herself, and I think she might just be the one you need.”

Vivaan hesitated but nodded. He stood, smoothing the front of his kurta, and made his way toward the adjoining room, unsure of what awaited him but willing to take the step. As he walked down the hallway, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air, giving him a small sense of comfort. He opened the door, unsure of what to expect.

Roohi stood up as he entered, adjusting her hair with an almost unconscious movement, her fingers running through the soft waves. Vivaan took in the sight of her calm, composed, yet there was something about her that felt different from the others. She wore a modest yet elegant blue dress, her expression polite but neutral, like a carefully painted portrait.

“Hi,” she said, her voice calm yet tinged with curiosity.

“Vivaan,” she said softly, her words breaking the stillness in the air. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Roohi,” he replied, his voice low. The name felt unfamiliar on his lips, like it wasn’t entirely his to say. Unsure of how to proceed, he added, “Nice to meet you too.” It didn’t feel as natural as it should, but she didn’t seem to mind.

Roohi offered a small smile, though there was a shadow of sadness in her eyes. “I guess we’ve both been through a lot with these proposals, huh?” she said, surprising Vivaan. “I don’t know about you, but I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve sat across from someone, hoping it would feel right, only for it to end in a polite rejection.”

Vivaan blinked, caught off guard by her honesty. “Yeah, I... I get that,” he admitted, relieved by her candidness.

“I thought maybe it would get easier,” she continued, her voice softening, “but it doesn’t. And I guess that’s what brings us here, doesn’t it?”

Vivaan felt a slight tension ease from his chest. She wasn’t pretending. She understood. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly. “It does.”

For a moment, they stood in a silence that wasn’t uncomfortable. It was real,the shared uncertainty of two people navigating the unknown.

Roohi glanced at him, her expression thoughtful. “Vivaan, before we go any further, there’s something I need to be upfront about.”

He looked at her, curious. “Of course. What is it?”

“I’m an IT professional. I’ve worked hard to get where I am, and my career is important to me,” she said, her tone steady but firm. “If this... proposal moves forward, I need to know that I’ll never be asked to quit my job. I need that assurance.”

Vivaan studied her for a moment, taking in the conviction in her voice and the quiet vulnerability in her eyes. He admired her honesty and her determination to stand her ground.

“I understand,” he said, his voice steady. “Roohi, your career is a part of who you are, just like my art is a part of me. I wouldn’t ask you to give that up. In fact, I think we’ll only complement each other better if we both continue to grow in our passions. So, let me promise you that I’ll never stand in the way of your work. Instead, I’ll stand beside you, supporting whatever path you choose to take.”

Roohi blinked, her lips curving into a genuine smile for the first time that evening. “Thank you,” she said softly. “That means a lot to me.”

“It’s what you deserve,” Vivaan replied. “But since we’re being honest, I need to share something too.”

Roohi tilted her head slightly, signaling him to continue.

“I’m an artist,” Vivaan began, his tone shifting to one of quiet pride. “I live for my work; it’s not just my career; it’s who I am. But it’s not always easy. There are times when the inspiration fades, when the world doesn’t seem to understand the value of what I create. It’s unpredictable, and sometimes, it can feel... isolating.”

He paused, studying her face for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. Instead, Roohi’s eyes softened, and she offered him an encouraging nod.

“Vivaan,” she said gently, “if this moves forward, I want you to know that I respect your work just as much as I value mine. Being an artist isn’t easy, but it’s what makes you unique. I don’t just accept it; I admire it. And if this journey leads us to share a life, I’ll stand by you, no matter what.”

Vivaan felt a warmth spread through his chest at her words. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. “That means more to me than I can say.”

Her smile widened just a little, and for a moment, the awkwardness of their first meeting melted away.

The conversation gradually shifted to lighter topics - their families, their interests, their dreams. As the evening wore on, they realized they weren’t as different as they’d thought.

When the clock on the wall ticked towards the hour, Vivaan stood up, feeling the weight of the moment. He cleared his throat, slightly nervous, yet feeling a quiet connection that hadn't been there before.

“I think it’s time we let our families know,” he said softly, looking at Roohi.

Roohi nodded, her fingers adjusting her hair slightly as she glanced at him. “Yeah, I guess it is. But, Vivaan, this... this whole thing is a bit sudden, don’t you think?”

Vivaan smiled, his heart racing in an unfamiliar but not unpleasant way. “Yeah, it’s a lot to take in all at once.”

Roohi gave him a small smile, the kind that made his chest feel lighter. “I think... we’re both kind of figuring it out, aren’t we?”

“Yeah,” Vivaan agreed, his voice quiet but certain. “It’s like... like we might be on the same page, but it’s still too soon to make a decision.”

Roohi’s smile widened just a fraction. “Exactly. But... I don’t know. There’s something there, right?”

Vivaan nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

As they stood there in the quiet room, the soft ticking of the clock filled the silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but a moment that felt full of possibility and uncertainty.

“We should talk to our families, but we both need time,” Vivaan said, looking at her earnestly.

“I agree,” Roohi replied, her voice calm and assured. “We’ll take it one step at a time.”

When it was time for them to leave the room, Vivaan stood and followed Roohi toward the door. “I’ll walk you back to your parents,” he said softly.

They both moved toward the door, their steps in sync, but the air between them was still heavy with that unspoken understanding. They reached the living room, where their families were waiting.

As they rejoined their families, the air was filled with a sense of quiet understanding. The ticking of the clock seemed to slow down, the aroma of coffee still lingering in the background. When they reached the living room, Vivaan and Roohi exchanged a glance, both feeling a sense of calm.

Vivaan’s grandmother smiled at them warmly. “Well?” she asked, eager for their decision.

Vivaan cleared his throat as he stood before his grandmother. “Dadi, we had a good conversation,” he said slowly, his eyes meeting Roohi’s. “But we both feel like we need a little more time to think about everything. It’s... a big decision, and it’s happened quickly.”

Roohi nodded in agreement, her voice soft yet firm, her eyes meeting Vivaan’s. “I think we both need a bit more time to process everything,” she said, her voice calm but sincere. “It’s all happened so suddenly, and it’s important that we take things at our own pace.”

The room fell silent for a moment, as if everyone understood the weight of what was being said. Nirmala smiled softly, a knowing look in her eyes. “Of course, Vivaan. Take your time,” she said gently. “We’ll support you both, whatever you decide.”

With that, Roohi and Vivaan exchanged a brief glance, a shared understanding passing between them. The evening ended quietly, with both of them knowing that this was only the beginning of something that would unfold in its own time.

As Roohi left with her family, Vivaan stood at the door for a moment, watching her walk away. His heart was still uncertain, but something in him felt lighter than it had in a long while. Perhaps, just perhaps, this wasn’t the end. It was simply the beginning.