The yellow note struck on the door of his apartment was the first thing he noticed as he walked home after yet another long day at work. He pulled the note and read it as he unlocked the door. He swore softly, crushed the note and stuffed it into his pocket. “Those meddlesome snoops” he said shutting the door behind him.

The darkness, the silence, the loneliness or the lateness of the hour didn’t bother him. He was used to it.  He liked it this way and he had no clue why the rest of the world didn’t get the hint. He loved his job and the challenges it threw at him. The rat race kept him busy during the week and friends made his weekend exciting. Life was perfect at 32.

Kicking off his shoes and grabbing a cool bottle of water from the fridge he walked towards the blinking red light on his landline. “Probably calls from the neighbors” he grimaced as he let the machine play the recorded message. “Hi Shiv, this is Margo, was wondering if you can come by for dinner tonight? We are making your favorite spicy lentil soup” Beep “Shiv – Margo again. Are you not home yet? It is quite late. I do hope you can make it for dinner tonight. By the way a nice girl came looking for you and your mom asked you to call back” Beep

Shiv crashed on his couch cursing and grumbling as he glanced at his watch – “9:30pm – too late to call the sisters”. He pulled the crumbled, crushed yellow note from his pocket and ironed the creases with his fingers.

Hi Shiv,

This is Naina. I have a package for you from your mother and thought I can catch you this evening. The lovely ladies downstairs were very helpful with your life history (which I have FYI heard atleast 4 times the past few months). Give me a call 902-431-2253 and maybe we can catch up for a drink or dinner sometime soon

He frowned trying to read between the lines and trying to imagine Naina. Was she tall or short? Petite? Did she wear her hair long or short? Nose ring? He sure had a picture of her somewhere in his mailbox courtesy of his mom. He had not bothered to open any emails from his mother the past 6 months. They were filled with photos of “eligible” girls, horoscopes and bio datas.

His phone buzzed and flashed the smiling face of his mom. He glowered at the phone and wondered if he can get away without answering it. “Hello mom” he answered his voice weary and tired. His mind was far off as his mother gave her usual mom talk. The keywords were as always the same “marriage, loneliness, happiness, duty, dream, good girl, great family”. The new name that kept popping the past 3 months was Naina.

He must have said the right things because his mother was saying her goodbyes “Good night beta and don’t forget to call Naina. Do pick up the package as soon as possible” He barely put his phone down when there was a knock at the door. “This is shaping to be a disaster evening” he muttered walking towards the door.

“Hello Shiv! You must be starved and we got your favorite dhal. It is all heated and ready to eat. Come on dig in” said Margo as she hobbled in with her sister Margie. “Good Evening ladies and you really did not want to do this” Shiv forced the words out of his mouth following the two petite women with a riot of gray curls and wondering how to get out of the irinterrogations. He loved Margie and Margo – his landlords – dearly. They were friendly, caring and outrageously funny. He had spent many evenings with them eating, sharing stories and laughing but the last thing he wanted tonight was to be answering questions about Naina.

45 minutes and one bowl of super delicious lentil soup later, he said escorted the ladies to their unit as he said his goodbyes. He felt he had been thrown into the clothes dryer. He answered every question without hurting the nosy old ladies – his mother would have been proud. “As if my mother is not enough – these yentas trying to see me married off. Meddling busybodies” he sighed with exasperation as he picked up his phone to call Naina.

This post is a part of the April A to Z challenge. 26 days, 26 letters and 26 short stories. Come back tomorrow for my last post.