Munching on the chips next to my cheese grilled sandwich, I reached out for the ketchup squeezer lying in front.

"Tomato ketchup has been found to contain high amounts of high fructose corn syrup.  It is very high in calories, and therefore can contribute to weight gain and possible obesity. One of the other ways in which high fructose corn syrup is dangerous is that it can wreck havoc with your blood sugar levels. Since the sugar in the product is digested rapidly, it produces a huge blood sugar spike, and subsequently a relatively rapid drop." He raised his eyebrows at my grip on that red bottle from behind those glasses on his sharp nose bridge.

I blinked at him, trying to figure out his sudden rant as my fingers froze around the bottle's round circumference.

Well, welcome to the life of a twenty-four years old (almost twenty-five to be honest) Indian spinster. When a girl in this mysterious sub-continent of Asia has very well passed her "marriagable" age of between twenty-one to twenty-four as a spinster;  her family, friends and anyone remotely related to this female in subject will pledge their lives to one single mission of getting her married!

Belonging to the very same clan of women mentioned above, I- Omanah Thakkar, usually got myself into such awkward situations now and then. The 'Creepy Ketchup-phobic' guy sitting with me was the latest entry to my long list of (not so)potential grooms I had been tolerating for the past two years. 

I always found myself at some new restaurant with some random guy almost every week since past few months. My rapid pace to the haunting age of twnety-five had got my family restless which resulted into meeting Family-Friend's son, Distant relative's friend's son or Relative's distant friend's son very frequently.

I absolutely did not do matrimonial sites because the idea of being on internet and portraying one's bests like some selling commodity to be claimed did not fascinate me really. So, my folks reluctantly agreed to it and had opted for the typical old-fashioned way of spreading the word far & wide and the Indian aunties were more than delighted to find a new hobby-project in me.

The aunties of my community from all around the nation dug the ins and out to list down the eligible Gujarati bachelors which could be forwarded to my fidgety 'Thakkar' family in Gujarat. They would then short-list it and parade their chosen bachelors to me in Mumbai. To avoid a trivial thing such as distance to intervene in monitoring over my match-making process, my folks had managed to rope in my four besties in Mumbai to keep an eye on my meetings. 

So, to sum it up- All of my loved ones were responsible for getting me stuck in such weird situations but being mad at them was impossible because I knew that their hearts were in the right place!

My cribbing wasn’t a dislike for or a disbelief in the ancient institution of marriage. Infact it was the other way round and the long ferreting around for two years had been about finding The One. I wanted it to be just right and if it existed then I considered it worth all the wait.

Afterall, marriage is like a Sundae Dessert- the blend of perfect flavours in the beginning is always the key to a splendid palatableness.

And this guy staring down at me was definitely not the right flavour for my Sundae Dessert. I pulled the bottle off the table and turned it over on my plate to squeeze out a disturbingly high amount of ketchup. Sparing one look at my plate, he cringed his nose in disapproval.

"Consumption of such high amounts of these local ketchups can prove to be very hazardous for your health in the long term." He stated before slurping on his suger-free orange juice.

I dipped a piece of sandwich in that red pool of ketchup on my plate and took a bite of it, "I think.." I chewed and gulped down, "I will take the risk."

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 Shedding off my blue kurti and jeans to dump them in the laundry basket, I stepped into the  shower. The hot water splashing on my back set loose the tensed muscles.

It had been one of those mentally exhausting evenings which had been a routine lately. I was tired of this whole 'getting-married' gala and the disappointment that it brought along.

Damping myself dry, I wrapped the thick white towel around me. I stepped out of the bathroom and once again  found myself in front of the full length mirror with my mind full of self-doubts.

My curly hair were tamed into a messy bun with a few damp tendrils falling over my forehead and shoulders. The fair complexion was in contrast to my black eyes which occasionally showed a tinge of chocolate brown and a waistline inspite of the enormous chocolate consumption (yes, God has been gracious to me) enhanced my average heighted stature. Even with a dominating nose and an uneven set of teeth, I could pass for a above-average looking female.

Enough of sulking over your stupid fate which makes you bump into such creepy ketchup-phobic guys! So what if you're almost twenty-five and still single? you're a smart and beautiful woman with her own business and a cozy apartment for yourself. it's a matter of time before the right man comes along to sweep you off your feet- Call me crazy but my reflection in the mirror snapped at me.

I looked around on the Persian blue walls of my tiny bedroom. It had a double bed lying with Orange sheets and a wardrobe in the corner next to the dressing table. The wall against the bed had a book shelf full of romances while the opposite one had picture frames of my friends and family hanging.

Changing into a pair of jeans and a comfy over-sized, full sleeve tee which had penguins on it, I walked out into my little drawing room painted in orange and magenta. The hall was separated from the rectangular kitchen by a wall-size shelf full of books(again), show-pieces and Rom-Com DVDs. 

The swing near the sliding French doors leading to a small balcony in the drawing room was in a rhythmic motion due to the wind. Sparing a look at the violet sky and the blinking lights of  vehicles down on the road from my second floor balcony, I shut the the doors close. I grabbed the cell-phone lying on the couch in the middle and made my way out of the apartment.

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Curled up on the floor behind the humongous book-shelf in the cafe downstairs, I put the spoon full of nutella in my mouth and flipped the page of the thick historical romance in my tiny hands.

"Duke And I again?" Naina startled me with her presence.

Remember that dialogue by Jennifer Aniston in the sitcom F.R.I.E.N.D.S  where she referred to her friends as her magic beans? - ' I'm okay, really. I've got magic beans' . Well, I was lucky enough to have my  own share of those too- Naina, Zalak, Drishti and Kavya. 

I had come to this city by the shore with my parents when I was in my teenage years. Our stay here was supposed to be of around a year for some business commitments of my father but I fell in love with this city of dreams instantly and never went back since then. The hostel life here never really got to me because I had found my new family here- a family in my magic beans!

Started as a vague fantasy in one of our sleepovers during those whimsical teenage years, this cafe- 'Magic Beans' (same name by which I refer to them) had turned out into a full time grown business for Naina, Zalak, Drishti, Kavya and I in a year. 

The cafe had each wall of different colour with random couches, stools, chairs and floor cushions for the seating arrangements. A mahogany counter had cup-cakes and assorted chocolates on display while the glass showcase below lured everyone with pastries, cakes, freshly baked cookies and croissants. 

The place created a homely and welcoming ambience for people of every age. A small reading nook in the corner was my personal favourite in this cafe. 

All my friends had not entirely given up on their primary profession while living this common dream of running a cafe. Naina still used her dentistry skills to volunteer for different NGOs and schools while Drishti was excelling with numbers as a successful chartered accountant. Zalak was a visiting faculty for a couple of architecture colleges in Mumbai along with working for a builder group and Kavya pursued interior designing passionately. 

As for myself, I had never bothered to put my degree of Bachelors in Architecture to use and always found myself hovering around in this cafe or reading a book in the nook just like today.

"I thought it wouldn't hurt to see Daphne and Simon  have their much deserved happily ever-after with each other again." I smiled keeping the book down.

Naina's face which had a few silky hair-bangs falling on her eyes broke into a smile. With her fair complexion and her tiny frame, she almost looked like a kiddo except for that pronounced baby-bump on her waist.

"Aren't you supposed to be resting at home?"  I asked putting a lid on the half-eaten nutella jar.

"I got bored of sitting at home the whole day and I was curious about the guy you met today." She smiled sheepishly.

I got up from my comfortable position on the wooden floor and slid the book back into the shelf. Naina grabbed the nutella jar from me to dip her finger in the molten chocolate before licking it as we walked to the seating arrangement from behind the shelf.

The cafe was buzzing with quite a crowd for a late evening on a weekday. We made our way to the bill counter in the corner while exchanging a smile with Julie- the waitress and the person in charge of the cafe in our absence. Drishti and Zalak were as usual bickering about something.

"Drishti!!!!" I locked my friend into a tight hug, "I missed you so much. How was your honeymoon with Mr. Banker?!"

"Amazing!" She blushed winking, "It won't be an exaggeration if I say that we hardly got out of our hotel suite."

My newly wedded friend looked giddy and happy as her dusky face brightened with a smile giving away on a tiny dimple on her left cheek.

"There it is." Zalak fixed her arm on her hip arching her brows at the nutella jar in Naina's hands, "Your pregnancy cravings will leave us in a mess if you keep sneaking out chocolate from the cafe kitchen."

Zalak's big almond eyes scrutinized us from behind those long lashes. Her tiny nose flared with annoyance and it made me want to pull her cheeks instead of being intimidated.

Naina pouted and opened her mouth to speak something-

"It wasn't Naina this time. I was in the need of a good dose of chocolate." I bit my lips smiling.

"Of-course, you met a guy today. I was waiting for you to come down to the cafe. We didn't know that you were hidden behind in the reading nook." Zalak rolled her eyes, "Anyway, how did it go? That bad?"

All three of them stared at the half-empty nutella jar and looked at me for an explanation.

"He doesn't want to have diabetic kids with a suicidal woman like me who is inviting a slow death with the amount of ketchup she consumes." I quoted my suitor flatly.

My magic beans blinked at me speechless.

"At a loss of words?" I said biting back an amused smile, "Imagine ninety minutes of such torture. That was my evening for today."

"How do you end up with such idiots?" Zalak murmured with her eyes wide.

"Well, not everyone of us is capable of making our cafe's silent investor fall heads over heels in love with us in the very first Business meeting." I giggled.

The big rock on her ring finger was slipped on by our silent investor just a few months back and all of us were waiting for the wedding bells to ring soon. Around a year back, our hunt for a potential investor in our dream had turned into a twisted love story for one of my magic bean. It had taken more than a little persuasion for him before they finally got engaged.

"Omi! Did we find your Mr. Right today?" Kavya entered the cafe and her excited screech turned a few heads towards her.

She sprinted towards us in the corner and grinned dumping her hand-bag and sheets on the counter. With her tall and sleek figure, she could easily pass as a model. Her long brown curls added to her fair skinned beauty.

"Don't even bother asking." Naina shook her head looping her arm in mine.

"However psychotic it may sound, the truth is that for one moment there I actually considered marrying him just so that I can torture him to death with the pools of ketchup in my plate all life long." I smiled sheepishly.

"He is not worth the trouble darling." Kavya waved her hand dismissively, "Ranveer has this hot cousin and he is so amazing. How about I set you---"

" I'm not looking for a random fling with some punjabi cousin of your boyfriend. I intend to get married and not give a heart attack to my family while at it." I rolled my eyes.

"Ranveer and I are in true love!" She gasped in mock offense, "and we are going to get married as soon as we find a way to break the news of our inter-caste affair to our parents."

"Exactly my point!" I folded my arms.