Calculated Love





I have always lived a calculative life, an attribute which defines my success. I have chosen friends on the basis of their ability to give. I cannot imagine why people befriend people for the ‘good nature’. What good does it do them? I have always befriended people either with intelligence or money; or both in certain cases, for I believe that money and intelligence can take you to places which a good nature cannot.

 

I am a successful young man with a seven-figure salary, a car, and a house. In other words, a prospective groom. But why do I marry someone random and then entitle them to my assets which I have built after years of hard work?

 

And then I do what I am best at, calculation! She ought to be beautiful, no doubt about that. In fact, let’s make it tall, fair and curvy. She should earn at least seventy percent of what I do, rest thirty percent can compensate for my average looks.

 

She should be at least twenty-three for I cannot stand immature persons.

 

A mole would be preferable but I would not fixate on it as much as I want her eyesight to be perfect. I do not like spectacled girls and I do not want my kids to be born with that kind of genetic defect.
While I am calculating health of my future generation, I shall better write diabetes away as well.

 




I do not believe in religion and I do not want to have any nonsense in the scientific upbringing of my kids.

 

Okay, the list is done. Now, let’s begin the search.

 

All I expect is to find that perfect stranger so that we can be together for life.

 

And then my calculations go awry. It has never happened in twenty-eight years but it happened now. I am now somehow attracted to my new secretary.

 

She is young, religious, not-so-tall, bespectacled, and not-so-slim and her annual pay is less than my monthly income. She was picked because she checked the most columns in the advertisement for my secretary.

 

But she was supposed to knock on the doors of my heart before barging in unannounced. Honestly, I did not even know my heart had a door.

 

“Where did I go wrong?” I asked my mind.

 

“Love is not a calculation,” heart spoke for the first time in all these years.



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