Lamb Korma
Flash Fiction
I think I fell in love with her name first:Minakshi.
I knew the family wouldn’t be too happy, me seeing a Ghora, a white boy, but I really liked Tom’s smile.
I had to work hard to convince myself not to pop the question. I am 22, just graduated, and want to see the world. We said no commitment from the beginning.
We had a lot of fun, but I knew from the start that it was only whilst we were at uni. I spelled it out to him. Didn’t realise it was going to be so hard to break it up. But he always aimed to go to Harvard after graduation.
I wouldn’t want her parents to force her to marry an elderly cousin. I’d be shattered if she did. But she’s no pushover. She knows her own mind.
I have to pretend that I’m OK with a complete break once we leave here next week. I think he’s also pretending.
We’ve been together two years. I’ve never felt more comfortable with anybody else. They all say we’re made for each other. But a serious relationship ties you down. Acts like a brake. Punctures your ambition. There are other women out there.
If I accept the offer from Durham and he shoots off to Harvard, how practical is that gonna be?
Do I have to go to Harvard?
Do I have to go to Durham?
For Christ’s sake we’re not romantic teenagers, we’re intelligent and mature adults. But in years to come, on lonely nights I’ll regret letting her slip through the net.
I think we had something special. Oh the road I did not take. I think I’ll go for the lamb korma. And Cobra beer of course.
Is this really the last time we’ll be together? No, you must erase her numbers. Lingering is no good.
A clean break is really the best.
To be honest I have no appetite. If she orders the lamb korma, fuck Harvard, I’ll pop the question.
Lamb korma? No, perhaps the aloo gobi.
