Z for Zoya

I am an expert in long-distance relationships.

I have been in one with my parents for the last 9 years.

It was the fourth year of my college, one of those particular mornings when you don't feel like going to any class. I call up my mom, she was probably enjoying her morning tea, in the cold breeze of winter morning as the sun was just trying to peep down from the dense fog and cloud cover. I told her that I wanted to talk to her about something. 

I could feel the excitement and concern both together in her voice. She asked me if everything was okay, what happened did I get a job. I said, "No Mom, I want to tell you about someone who I met, and I like, her name is Zoya, and she is a Muslim".

Like most underconfident people in our generation, We met at a National debate competition finals, in Bhubaneshwar, while I was in my first year of my college. It was a two-day day competition and the participants were to stay the complete time in the venue. We had just a handful number of face-offs in the entire competition, just enough to register her in my memories.

As the competition finished, I headed back to the train station to go back to the college. My train was running 5 hours late, which meant spending the entire night at the station to wait till the train arrives. The expected time was 4 in the morning. I was horrified at the thought of spending the night at the station alone, and reluctantly threw my bags on one of the platform chairs and stood observing the crowd which was shrinking as the night swelled. I am not a big tea person, but I thought it could help me get through the night better, so I started heading toward the tea stall in the station. There was another girl standing there, with an oversized rug sack, a puffy jacket, and one of those childish winter caps. When I closed in on the counter, she just turned around with the hot tea in her hands. 

"Zoya", I said in surprise.

"Bhumik", she said letting the cup go from her hand onto my shoes.

Her face turned completely pink as she felt terribly sorry for the action. I reassured her that it was okay, she didn't do it intentionally. I got to know that she was also waiting for the same train, and heading to the same destination. In fact, her college was just 12 km from the mine. Unlike most single-serving conversations that happen with a stranger during adversity, our conversation turned into a beautiful friendship like a seed that turns into a tree. In fact, our conversation went so well that I offered her half the stake in my imaginary restaurant business named Unplugged. 

We met in August, but by December we were comfortable spending 4 hours on a call discussing 36 questions from the New York Times that make you fall in love. On the point of love, We talked about our past relationship, I told her that I have never been in one. I told her that my parents expect me to marry someone who is Hindu, someone from my own faith. 

And she said "When you find the right person, the rules won't matter"

At that time I didn't realize that she would be the person worth breaking the rules for.

And She was kind, she was generous, giving, and she was beautiful in and out. She studied psychology, and she volunteered for an organization that worked with children with Autism. On days she would come back bruised with the stories of the children she was working with a smile on her face because she loved what she did. She would remain calm in the face of adversity, and remind me to stay when things didn't work out, like her favorite Ice cream would get sold out when she had been badly craving for it, or sending me a voice note before every interview when I was looking for a job. Our love blossomed like a flower on that tree.

When I told her that I am going to tell my mom about Us, 

she told me "You know how much that scares me right". 

Just to cheer her up I jokingly said to her "If my parents say no, we will just wait out for 10 years, everybody would just calm down and then we can do whatever we want".

Then I get back to the phone call "I want to tell you about someone who I met, and I like, her name is Zoya, and she is a Muslim".

Silence...

........

.........

two minutes pass and my mom doesn't tell me a word. I am restless now and I ask her to say something.

"What do you expect me to say."

"Anything, anything that you are thinking right now"

There is nothing to say, you guys just met you have just been talking, let's just wait it out and see how this goes "

We cut the call. what I didn't know was that there was a storm brewing 800 miles away. For my mother who has made so many sacrifices to see her son succeed, she had plans for me. And me marrying someone outside my faith was not one of them.

After I told her about Zoya, I called her the next day, and she said that she couldn't sleep the entire night before. She tried and tried to reconcile with the fact that this might be happening but she couldn't let it go. 

"Just because she is Muslim, that she didn't have any control over.", I asked her.

"I know, It's illogical and irrational but emotionally my heart just can't accept it, I just can't do this"

Zoya is always better at seeing the future than I was. She always liked to think about contingencies, she would ask me what if you talk to your parents and it doesn't work out. What if this is the last time we are talking, and I promised her it wasn't, but this next time was going to be.

"Zo, I talked to my parents, and they said that they can't accept it, they said that even if they did it would be incredibly difficult for us, the rest of our family might not accept it. Our relationship can be under a microscope and everybody would just be waiting for us to fuck up. Even with all the changes that it would require, the sacrifices that It would demand. I don't want to this to come with the cost of changing you. I am sorry Zo"

"Is it over then, say Bhumi is over then"

"Zo I can't"

"Bye Bhumik", she cut the call.

At this, it's easy to think of my mom as a villain but Imagine it from her perspective. Imagine that you have built this beautiful house that represents everything that you believe in, your identity, your life, and everything. And someone who you love and trust unconditionally holds a stone in their hand and threatens to destroy everything that it represents. And then there is Zo. And I can barely imagine what it would have felt for her to be told, that "you as you are not enough" when I knew for me she was.

And then It was me, having to choose between the love that made me who I am today, and the love that I choose, and nothing hurts more than choosing between the two loves.

Zo and I haven't spoken in a year, but I still think about her. There are days when I wish for her to be just happy and she does want to do, but there are days when I think about the fact that what we said to each other.

we said, "If our parents say No, we will just wait it out for ten years."

It has been one year now, nine more to go.