A (somewhat) Happy/ unhappy love story......(Meet the Parents) !

....Part 6...contd....from Sept 11th post...

Most 'firsts' in a relationship are pretty great — the first date, the first kiss, and many other firsts. Mine were...(sigh)...'epic'. I think I've already mentioned that.

But there are a few that aren't so great. Right at the top of that list is introducing your boyfriend or potential partner to your parents. While those other moments are an exhilarating mixture of excitement and nerves, meeting the 'fam' can feel 100 percent scary. At least for me it was. Why?

Anyone who’s fallen in love with someone knows the feeling when they have to first introduce his or her family to their potential life-partner. It’s a combination of fear, anxiety and fascination. You want to hide behind a door, yet still peak out to see what’s going on.

Will my mom like him?

Will my dad say something weird?

Will they find something terribly so wrong in him, to forbid this going any further?

These overwhelming thoughts constantly badgered my mind, which made the whole thing feel downright stressful. Particularly in a close-knit Indian family like mine, where everyone knows, or rather, HAS to know everyone's business, one doesn't really introduce their boyfriend or to-be-life-partner to their parents, unless an impending marriage is on the cards. And, Mr A and I had no doubts about getting married.....we were always sure of that right from the start.

However, the two people whom I would have expected to be nerve-wrecks in this "meet-the-boyfriend/meet-the parents" situation were outright calm. That's right, both my dad and Mr A were cool as they could be.

I think it had been a little less than a month, almost close to 4 weeks, since my arrival in Dubai and me dating Mr A, when my dad randomly asked me one evening, while at home.

"Is Mr A busy over the weekend?"

I looked up at him stunned. I knew this day was coming, but Now? So soon?, I thought.

I answered "Uhhhh....I ..I don't know. Umm....why?"

In his utmost calm demeanor, my father looked at me, absolutely emotionless, and yet in his usual assertive manner, said, "I want to meet him."

I felt the ground beneath my feet, give away for a second.

As I might have mentioned before, no doubt, I'm my father's daughter. Always have been. And always will be. In my own home, my dad was never big on talking or cuddling or sharing feelings. And yet, with very few words and more so, with actions, he conveyed his love in subtle, yet powerful, ways. Things I could never convey with my mom, somehow with my dad, it was always easier. He just listened. My 'Papa' might have been a quiet guy at the dinner table, but I knew that he always had a soft spot in his heart towards me, and he was proud to be my dad.

As a girl tries to figure out what men are like, the first one she watches is her father. My dad was that example of a man who was consistent, trustworthy, and sensitive to feelings, who placed his wife, kids and family at a high priority in his schedule, and who invested his energies in the lives of those around him. In many ways, my dad set the precedence and benchmark in showing me, his daughter, what a proper, respectful male response sounds and feels like. And THAT, did not just earn my respect for my father, but also my fear and admiration for him at the same time, for as long as I could remember.

With these underlying daughterly-type feelings, it was awhile before I found my tongue and said to him, "What?? Really?"

My father looked at me curiously and said, "Yes. I think I told you that I wanted to meet him, right?"

I found myself stammering a bit and said, "Yes...yes you did".

"Good. In that case, ask him to come by the office on Friday evening. I'll meet him there", my dad said.

My eyes popped wide open. "Okay. I'll ask him", I answered.

It didn't sound like there was an option for a debate on this matter, either for me or Mr A.

Just do it, was what it sounded like.

I honestly don't know why my father wanted to meet Mr A at the office and not at home and that too, on the weekend. (Back then, Thurs -Fri was the equivalent to a Saturday-Sunday weekend in the Gulf countries. These days I'm told it's changed to Friday-Saturday). Anyway, I figured much later that my father was exercising his own sense of caution. After all, this concerned his only daughter's happiness.

I quickly sent Mr A a text, telling him what transpired. Surprisingly, he responded in less than 10 seconds agreeing to meet 'Papa" on Friday.

Wow!! That was fast. Was he not nervous? Hmmmmm.......how was is that these two prominent men in my life, NOT nervous about this meeting?? I kept wondering. Or maybe they were and just not telling me anything. They're so....so.... ALIKE, I thought to myself.

Anyway, on Friday evening that coming weekend, at around 6:45 pm, my dad and I headed to his office. My dad had set an evening meeting for 7pm. Mr A and I were to understand the reasons later, of why my father wanted to meet so late that day. I mean, after all we could've have met for an early afternoon coffee or tea, right? I contemplated this for a few seconds initially, but I brushed it off, thinking it was just my father's choice of timing. Kind-of his way of easing himself, throughout the day, into this upcoming meeting...

Unlike most evenings when Mr A and I usually meet, that day we decided we wouldn't, but rather meet when he comes by the office to meet with my father. And if........a big IF, all goes well, we'll play it by ear and see if we can spend some time together after that. Obviously, if my father approved. I mean, quite honestly, I did not want to disrespect my father in any way, in light of this meeting. And Mr A was well aware of my relationship and feelings towards my dad to do nothing, but agree with me.

GIven the gravity of the occasion, I ditched my usual outfit of sweats/ jeans-T-shirt and opted to dress up a bit - a simple Indian salwar suit and a pair of kitten-heel sandals seemed appropriate for the evening. Mr A, being on time as usual, called me at 6:58 pm, letting me know that he had just parked and was headed upstairs to the first floor of the building, where my dad's office was located. I waited by the entrance so that I could take him to meet my father. Actually I wanted to make sure he wasn't a ball of nervousness, like I was. After all, a man's confidence speaks a great deal.

He walked up the stairs, and flashed that die-hard smile of his as soon as he saw me. Man.....for a guy who was meeting his girlfriend's father for the very first time he did NOT look even the slightest bit edgy, I thought.

In fact, I asked him, "Aren't you nervous?".

He blatantly responded, "No. Why? For what?"

He was right; why should he be nervous.

Okkkayyy. I guess I'm getting in over my head for nothing then, I thought.

I found out a few days later that Mr A had actually asked one of his close buddies (Let's call him Mike) about my dad. Just so, Mr A could get a clear sense of what kind of a person he would be encountering in my father during this crucial meeting. And Mike knew my father from a few years ago, while I was in India.

I might have mentioned this earlier that Mr A and I had some "common friends", some of whom happened to be acquaintances/relatives-of-friends/family friends of my parents from many, many years ago in Dubai. One of them, was Mike's sister and family.

In fact, on account of that connection, Mike was one among the innumerable people/newcomers that my father had supported to come to Dubai. It was not uncommon for businessman, like my dad, to do so. In fact, whenever I asked, my dad never quite remembered the people he sponsored during his years in Dubai and hence, never kept track of them as such. He just did what he could to help others, at any given point of time, without any expectations really. That's just how he functioned, as a person. But interestingly, most people like Mike, always remembered my father with immense laudation.

"He's a quiet, calm and soft-spoken gentleman; doesn't say much, but walks with an air of integrity” - a typical description of my father, that most people remember of him.

But what Mike said further, made me chuckle with pride.

"One would have to search your father's mouth for his tongue, in moments of panic", said Mike, during one of our early introductions, when he happened to describe to me about his first meeting with my father.

It's true. Hahaha. Mike couldn't have put it more perfectly, I thought.

I guess, with those preceding thoughts in mind, Mr A walked up to my dad's office that evening, with an air of confidence. Not that he ever lacked any on his own.

Interestingly, Mr A too, had dressed up this evening. I, kind of, thought he might. He had his evening jeans on and was wearing a crisp, powder-blue casual shirt. My dad was comfortably seated in his office, doing work-stuff, when Mr A and I had walked in. My dad stood up; I introduced them both, while they both shook hands and smiled at each other. Phew, that's a relief for starts, I thought. They don't hate the sight of each other. Good. There was an awkward moment of silence after that, because I didn't quite know what to do next, except look at both of them and vice versa. I mean how does one navigate through a "Hi-this-is-my-dad....Hi-this-is-my-boyfriend" situation??? Almost instantly, my father looked at me and nodded. That's when I realized that it was my cue to step out and leave them alone.

I said that I would be in the accountant's office, in case they needed anything. My father nodded again. I looked at Mr A one last time before I walked out. His eyes caught mine, smiled....assuring me with that all-too familiar deptful look of his that 'everything will be okay'. Honestly, I should be the one assuring him that. I smiled back at him. I knew I loved this man for many reasons. This was one of them. His calmness and perpetual credence in times of uncertainty. Hmmm....reminds me of someone I already know.

I slowly walked out towards the adjacent office. Sat down. Picked up a magazine that was on the coffee table, fully intent on reading it. I skimmed through the first 2 pages. Then I put it down the next minute. I'm not going to be able to read through anything, let alone relax, while these two men were in a room a few feet away from me. I wonder what they're talking about.

After a few minutes of twiddling my fingers, looking at my phone, heading to the kitchen to grab some water, rummaging through the kitchen cabinets for, perhaps, a snack and walking around the rest of the office, all of which took 7 minutes, I decided to step out of the office, head downstairs and walk around the block for a bit. As I was about to do that, I stopped myself, realizing how the humidity from the weather was going to impact me and my clothes, if I did that. And I was dressed in a salwar. NO WAY. I figured that I would rather stay fresh from the cool air-conditioned air of the office than turn into a drip-machine, just from the Gulf summer heat. So here I was, staring out one of the windows in the office, taking in the scenery outside. And I just waited.

Maybe 15-20 minutes had passed; I looked at my watch. 7:30 pm.... I realized that it was awfully quiet out there. Not that either Mr A or my dad were loud talkers; they were both soft-spoken gentlemen. I guess it was JUST....TOO... QUIET. I walked out and peaked into my father's office. They were talking alright. Surprisingly, I noticed my dad was speaking. Hmmmm....he's usually not the one to carry a conversation, but looks like he might have just found someone who's equally a listener. I only know of two other people in this world you would listen intently to my father speak...or rather carry a conversation with him......one was me, and the other was my cousin's husband, who's currently based in Dubai. My dad usually takes his time to draw close to anyone and somehow, I could see him intently focused on conversing with Mr A. I smiled.

I sneaked away quietly, waiting for them to finish. Maybe a minute might have passed before I heard the muffled sounds of chairs pull back. I turned around and saw Mr A and my father walk out of the office.

As soon as they saw me, my dad smiled and said "I'll call up your mom now; Mr A and you should talk to her too."

THERE IT IS. So this is why he wanted to meet with Mr A this late, I thought. My father wanted to have us BOTH talk to my mom as well.

We both agreed. Me, more reluctantly, though. Damn! I had not planned for this, I thought.

Until I heard Mr A say,"Okay, sure. It would be nice to talk to Aunty". I rolled my eyes within my head. Yea, right!!!

NOW, I was really nervous. I mean, it wasn't like I had a choice in this matter.

And, not to say that I wouldn't have loved talking to my mom.

I would. Honestly. I missed her.

But I was well-aware of my mom's presumptive feelings towards Mr A, right from the start.

Talking to my dad was one thing, but for anyone who talks to my mom.....that's at a COMPLETELY different level.

Mr A, however, was so cool about it. He had no idea what was coming around the corner.

Anyway, my dad dialled the number back home in Bangalore, quickly spoke to my mom before handing me the phone. 'Mummy' asked me how I was doing, how the internship was going and blah, blah, blah...the usual mom-type questions. I answered her, as naturally as I could sound. Then she asked about Mr A and asked me if I was absolutely sure about 'this man'. I told her confidently that I was. She said, "Okay, let me talk to him."

I handed Mr A the phone and I left him alone to speak with her. I walked away, a few feet towards where my dad was standing. I looked at 'Papa', searching for that 'look' of assurance or disapproval or whatever it was to be, on his face. He looked at me; in his usual calm tone, he said, "He's nice. Seems like a good guy". I smiled.

"Anyway, get to know him. Because this is your decision and a matter of your life, okay?" my dad said.

I said, "Yes, I know".

"Good", he added.

A few minutes later, Mr A turned towards us and was signalling to my father that my mom wanted to talk to him. He said the usual 'pleasant-bye' to my mom, before handing the phone over to my father. He was smiling too. Hmmm, I guess Mr A had an 'okay' conversation with mom, I initially thought.

Honestly, I don't know what my mother and Mr A talked about in those few minutes that evening and I never asked till date. Never planned to either. Because, I truly believed that was a conversation between the two of them and had to remain at that. Neither did Mr A ever volunteer that information to me. But somehow, I got the sense that Mr A might have gotten the cold vibe from my mom, at some point, when they talked.

How do I know this? Here's why.

Mr A and I had stepped out of the office leaving my dad and mom to continue talking on the phone. We assumed they would be just saying their usual byes and would hang up soon. As we stepped out, we were contemplating to hang out with one of Mr A's buddies for coffee. I was game for it. But, I looked at Mr A with that 'not-so-sure-but-I-have-to-ask-dad' look and he instantly knew what was going through my mind. I mean it was late evening, after all.

"Ask your father. If he's okay with it, we'll go. If not, we can meet tomorrow", Mr A said calmly and smiling.

I nodded and had just about peaked into the room where my dad was on the phone with my mother. What I saw made me frown, for a few seconds.

It looked like the conversation between my mom and dad was....kind-of......Intense. I noticed my father was being uber-expressive with his hands, while talking to my mom....almost like, he was trying to drive a point home with her. He's never usually like that.

I mean, both my parents have, sort of, always been on opposite ends, when it came to matters or situations concerning me. While my mom was always more conservative and felt the imperative need for me to be traditional and a "do-as-you-are-told" daughter, my father was always more empathetic towards my gender-equality-feminist nature. And although, their opposite stances never bothered me before in other matters, in this particular situation, it somehow.... rocked my insides!!

I mean, this was important. I needed BOTH my parents on the same side here...rather, On My Side. Would I have to choose between the man I love and the parents that I have ALWAYS loved and love? Please, please....may that day never come, I silently prayed.

Unfortunately, Mr A was also standing behind me. I could sense him standing close enough, from the mere whiff of his alluring musky scent. Clearly, he too, noticed my dad. Oh that's not good, I thought.

Right about then, my dad noticed both of us, from the corner of his eye. He turned around, with the phone still close enough to his ears. I quickly diverted his attention; to possibly avoid my father's suspicions of what we might have seen, I asked if it would be okay for Mr A and I to just go out for a bit. My dad, instantly agreed. There wasn't even a slight hesitation in that approval. Mr A instantly assured my father that he would have me back home by 9 pm. My father smiled and nodded.

Mr A and I walked out of the office, silently, downstairs and towards his car. We were both chatting, kind-of like small-talk. But neither of us, raised the topic about what we both witnessed a few moments ago. I guess, we just chose to not talk about it for now. We drove to a local cafe that Mr A and I would sometimes hang out at, during the evenings. We met with another close buddy of Mr A's (let's call him Sam) and opted to sit in the outer seating area. The weather usually cools down towards the evening, accompanied with a nice warm breeze.

Obviously, being a concerned friend, Sam knew about the Meet-the-dad session that day and asked us casually about how it all went. Mr A and I definitely agreed that meeting my father was great and probably better than what he expected. In fact, I was amazed and genuinely happy when Mr A went on and on, describing my father to Sam with such admiration.

However, when it came to my mom, we were both, somewhat, silent. I noticed that Mr A looked down for a few seconds. And then, something he said made me realize the cold vibe, that I was talking about earlier, that he might have gotten from my mom.

"She seems fine, I guess...... right?", he said. Mr A looked at me, as he said that.....almost like he was looking to me for assurance. Sam looked at both of us intently.

"Hmmm...what did she say?", Sam asked.

"Nothing much....just asked casual questions", Mr A answered, looking straight ahead and avoiding eye contact with either of us.

Then what he said next, was what nailed my impending doubts. "Either way, whatever she feels about me, I guess she just has to accept this." Mr A added.

I closed my eyes for a brief second, looked away with a sense of looming sadness, to avoid Mr A or Sam from catching the worry on my face. He was right. She had to accept this.

At that very moment, without Sam noticing, I felt Mr A's hand on mine, holding it far more tighter than I ever recall us holding hands like that before, even while I looked away.

He knew why I looked away.

Why I was avoiding eye contact with him or Sam.

He knew what was going through my mind.

I didn't have to say anything. He could sense my thoughts.......my worry.....my hurt.

And him holding my hand ever so tightly like that, was his way of telling me that "It'll be okay. She'll come around." This man knew me....he got me....

I was close to tears. But I couldn't risk breaking down then and there, in public....in front of Sam.

I then looked back at Mr A reassuringly, through my nearly moist eyes, smiled and nodded in agreement. After all, Mr A derived his courage and support from me first, before anyone else. We just HAD to be together in this.

I further said out loud, "Whatever happens, I'm not backing out of this. She knows me well."

Continuing to astutely observe us both, Sam was quick to confirm his support for us, no matter what. And he was rather quick to divert our attention to other topics. I think Mr A and I were both, immensely thankful to Sam for being with us that evening. It definitely made the rest of the evening light-hearted.

We carried on with our usual routine.... chatting, drinking some traditional Indian chai, while cracking jokes, laughing. When Mr A, me and his friends got together, it was a riot of laughters. Always. I don't ever recall laughing so much in my life, like I did with the 'lot of them'.

Somewhere in the middle of all that joking and laughter, as we were walking away from the cafe, I think I might have laughed a bit too hard, that I actually broke the heel of one of my sandals. It was too funny, if you think about it.

Noticing almost instantaneously and without giving a second thought, Mr A kneeled down on one knee, grabbed the sandal off my feet to take a look.

Yep. That's right. Right there....in the midst of the public...in an Arab city.

Usually a scene like this would invite some evident scrutiny from watchful, prying eyes. And needless to say, there were quite a few. But Mr A could care less. He was entirely focused on the issue at hand. I was, rather, more conscientious of the people watching us.

Truly chivalrous of Mr A, as one would say.

I mean, he didn't have to do this. I didn't expect him to. Nor did I ask him.

But as I watched him closely, kneeling beside me, looking down, focused and fixing my heel with his bare hands, while I was standing and steadying myself on one foot, with my hands holding on to Mr A's shoulder and with Sam looking on, amused at the scene unfolding in his presence, I realized that there's only one other person in this entire world who would've done the EXACT same thing for me, as Mr A just did.....my father.

The immense love that I felt in my heart that instant, for this man, was indescribable.

It was not just because he was fixing my heel.

Or the attention he gave me.

Or all the feelings I get when I'm with him that I don’t feel for anybody else.

It was an ecompassment of all the little things that he did; he cared for. Sometimes it's almost hard to explain that feeling.....

I knew then that I couldn't let him go. Under any circumstances.....

....Stay tuned for Part 7........

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