You Are Mine: When I Have To Fight For You

I stood at the brink of a life-altering decision, my heart weighed down by uncertainty. The winds of change whispered in my ears, urging me to embrace the possibility of a new beginning, to step into the unknown and leave behind the remnants of a relationship that had endured countless storms. Yet, amidst the chaos of my emotions, a flicker of hope lingered, reminding me of the love that had once been a guiding light in my darkest moments. Should I abandon that history, that connection, for the temptation of the unknown? Should I turn away from the love that had become a part of my very being? The answer eluded me, buried beneath layers of longing, doubt, and the irresistible pull of an uncharted future. *** As the day began, the morning air was crisp, filled with the chirping of birds. The golden rays of the sun painted the sky blue. The early sunlight streamed through my window, its beautiful but disruptive glare falling directly on my face. I was reluctant to get out of bed. While I usually loved mornings, this one felt different. Suddenly, I remembered I had lectures, prompting me to spring out of bed and head straight to the bathroom to freshen up. I wasn’t the type to linger while bathing—neither rushed nor slow—but I always took care of my skin, just like every other sophisticated lady I admired. I enjoyed staying in tune with the latest Indian fashion. Lehengas, pant-style salwars, and Anarkali suits were my favorite traditional outfits for occasions. As a college student, I had also grown fond of modern styles, from simple pants and tops to trendy fitted gowns. On this particular morning, I decided to embrace my Indian roots by wearing my favorite pant-style salwar. I wasn’t one to follow others blindly; I preferred doing what suited my taste. With that settled, I dressed up. I untied my long, naturally black, waist-length hair and got ready. Stepping into my high heels and picking up my bag, I took one last glance at myself in the mirror. “You look gorgeous!” I always complimented myself. Leaving my room and heading downstairs, I caught the aroma of my mom’s cooking. Mrs. Amber Singh, my beautiful mother, was an incredible woman who had dedicated her life to raising her daughters after losing her husband over a decade ago, choosing not to remarry like many women might. After greeting her, I informed her that I was heading to campus. Riding my rare magenta scooter was always a delightful experience. At campus, I met up with Manikarnika—Manu for short—my best friend. She was a bright, stunning girl with a carefree personality that always caught my attention. Manu had been my best friend since our first day on campus, and I couldn’t imagine it any other way. My campus life was usually lively, but recently, I found myself caught in a bitter feud with Siddharth Arora, or Sidd, as everyone called him. Siddharth and I were sworn enemies. I hated him for reasons I couldn’t even explain. He was so full of himself, probably because of his good looks—which, admittedly, were undeniable. He had a heart-melting appearance: a fair complexion, a sharp nose, rosy lips, sparkling eyes, and a well-built physique. His jet-black, spiky comb-over haircut gave him the look of a romantic Bollywood hero. Many girls admired him, but none of that changed how I felt. I was sure he hated me even more, doing everything in his power to annoy me. Sometimes, I wished he would just disappear. After our morning lectures, I was with Manu when I spotted Sidd approaching us with his friends, Shekhar and Milan. They were always together. “Someone’s trying hard to impress the guys,” Sidd began his usual taunts. “She’s desperate to look beautiful, even though she’s ugly,” he mocked, smirking at me. “Let’s go, Manu,” I said, standing up. I wasn’t in the mood to respond to him just yet. We walked away, hearing their laughter behind us. Manu and I found another spot far from them. A few minutes later, Manu got a call from her mom asking her to come home. She had to leave, and I couldn’t stop her since it was her mother’s request. After she left, I headed to the library to study. An hour later, I decided to go home. While descending the staircase, I bumped into Sidd. “Not again!” I exclaimed, irritated. “Why are you following me everywhere?” “Are you out of your mind?” he snapped, holding my stern gaze. “Why would I follow someone as ugly as you?” “I guess you’ve lost your sense of sight,” I shot back. “Even a blind man would know how ugly you are,” he retorted. “Really? Do you know how many guys would love just to meet me? One of them might even be you. That’s why you’re always following me. But no matter how hard you try, I’ll never fall for you because you’re so arrogant,” I replied confidently, knowing it would sting. I walked away as he shouted, “Stop flattering yourself!” Ignoring him, I reached my scooter, got on, and rode home. Later that evening, Kiara, my elder sister, returned from work. Kiara had graduated two years ago and now worked as a Managing Director at a large firm. Hearing her voice downstairs, I went to welcome her. “Welcome, sis!” I greeted, hugging her. “How was work?” “It was hectic. I’m exhausted,” she replied. A seven-to-nine workday was grueling, and her tired face showed it. I helped carry her bag upstairs as she followed me to her room. The next morning, I dressed up and rode to campus. As usual, I met Manu, and we attended our classes. After lectures, we headed to the canteen and ordered soft drinks. “Have you seen Sidd today?” I asked. “No, I haven’t,” she replied. “Are you missing him already?” she teased. “Of course not! I’m just happy he’s not around,” I replied, taking a sip of my drink. “It doesn't seem like it,” she said with a smirk.