Mumma laughed. “Tumhare papa se kaise mili… accha suno. Tum dono nana-nani ko jaante ho na? Unka pyaar dekha hai? Jab main chhoti thi na, main bhi unhe dekh ke sochti thi — jab mera rajkumar aayega, woh bhi bilkul mere papa jaise pyaar karega. Nana-nani ne mujhe aur tumhari mausi ko bahut pyaar se bada kiya.”

“Arre Mumma, story aapki aur papa ki sunni hai! Aap toh nana-nani ki autobiography suna rahi ho!”

“Arre baba, wahi se toh shuru hoti hai kahani!” Mumma smiled. “Mujhe hamesha pata tha mujhe kaisa pati chahiye. Tumhare nana ne mujhe ek school se dusre school mein shift kiya tha ye soch kar ki unki beti ab ache se padhegi. Par unhe kya pata tha ki padayi ke saath-saath unki beti apne hone wale damad ji ko bhi saath le aayegi!”

“Tumhare papa se main Saraswati Model School mein mili thi. 6th class se hum dost the. Humara chaar logon ka ek dhamakedaar group tha — main, tumhare papa, Tinnu mama aur Mahavish aunty. 6th se 10th tak hum inseparable the.”

“Phir kya hua?”

“Phir ek din Tinnu mama ne mujhe bola — ‘Esha, tujhe pata hai, Tushar tujhe pasand karte hain!’”

“Main us din bahut gussa ho gayi. Mujhe laga meri dosti khatam ho jayegi. Phir maine kuch din unhe bas observe kiya — wo kaise behave karte hain, kaise baat karte hain. Phir ek din jaake boli — ‘Sun, tere se kuch baat karni hai.’”

“Haila! Mumma aapne papa ko ‘tu’ bola?”

“Chup kar! Kahani sunni hai na? Beech mein mat bol!” Mumma said, eyes narrowing playfully.

“School ke baad papa aaye, bade smile ke saath. Unhe laga main pyaar-waali baat karungi. Lekin mera chehra dekh ke unka rang udd gaya.”

“Main boli — ‘Tu mujhe pasand karta hai? Sach sach bol, sab pata hai mujhe. Jhooth bola na toh yahin maar dungi!’, blade gale pe rain ke boldiya!”

“Mummmaaa! Aap toh gundi thi!”

“Bilkul thi!” Mumma grinned. “Tumhare nana ne sikhaya tha — kabhi kisi se darna nahi.”

“Papa dare honge?”

“Dare toh the! Par phir bole — ‘Nahi re, kisne bola tujhe? Apna chehra dekha hai? Tu toh ladka lagti hai! Kaun tujhe pasand karega?’”

“Main boli — ‘Zyada natak mat kar! Dosti rakhni hai toh rakh, warna katle yahin se!’”

“Phir papa ne kya bola?”

“Bas bole — ‘Tu bhi meri acchi dost hai, aur kuch nahi.’ Aur nikal pade. Kuch din hum baat nahi kiye. Phir school ka last day aaya. Main phir boli — ‘Sun, baat karni hai.’”

“Papa aaye aur bole — ‘Ab kya delulululu, phir dhamki dene bulaya kya?’”

“Main boli — ‘Is baar dhamki nahi, confession hai. I love you. Aur agar kisi aur ladki ko dekha na, toh dekh lena kya hoga!’”

“Mummaaa! Aapne toh pyaar bhi dhamki dekar hi kiya!”

“Chup kar badmaash!” Mumma laughed. “Uske baad hum dono ne dating start ki. School, college, jobs — sab saath mein. Phir humne decide kiya ki shaadi karenge. Dono ne ghar par baat ki, mandap laga, aur shaadi ho gayi.”

She paused and smiled softly.

“Pata hai, jis din maine tumhare papa ko propose kiya tha na, us din maine Bhagwan se kaha tha — ‘Mujhe isi ladke se shaadi karni hai, bas aap usko mere saath rakhiye.’”

The child giggled. “Toh papa toh dare hue hi shaadi kar liye!”

“Ek thappad padega abhi!” Mumma chuckled. “Aisa kuch nahi tha. Tumhare papa bahut acche hain. Dekho, aisa nahi hai ki humein aur log pasand nahi aaye ya kisi ne line nahi maari. Mile the log, par baat yeh thi — hum dono ko ek dusre ke alawa koi chahiye hi nahi tha.

Tumhare papa kisi aur ko mere jaisa nahi paa sake, aur mujhe kisi aur mein wo nahi mila jo tumhare papa mein tha.

Toh hum dono ne ek dusre ko hi chuna — because we wanted ‘us’.”

The child smiled sleepily. “Mumma, mast story thi… par mujhe lagta hai papa ke paas koi aur option hi nahi tha, hahaha!”

Mumma threw the pillow playfully. “Ab so ja, warna agli story mein papa ko villain bana dungi!”

Note:

Some stories aren’t about grand gestures or perfect love stories.

They’re about decisions — small, stubborn, beautiful ones.

Choosing each other, again and again, even when you could’ve chosen someone else.

Because love doesn’t just happen once.

It’s a choice you keep making — every single day.