Ever watched Indian Matchmaker? Our moms would send us so many bio datas that we had stopped paying attention and remembering which picture goes with what information. One cold SF morning I strolled to the neighborhood coffee shop and remembered I'd made plans to meet Omar. I called him to confirm his arrival time from Sac- he was already there. To put a band aid on my tardiness, I offered coffee. I asked him how he takes it and to my surprise- black, just like me. I walked up the hill and handed him his coffee. I was nervous and it had spilled all over the cap. He didn't seem to care. Over the years, it had been rough. We lost touch. Later when we entered each others lives we were different people. We had learned a lot and had a lot of appreciation and understanding for one another. Though the MVP's of it all were our moms and the matchmaker- who advocated for Omar endlessly to me and I am sure vice versa. Love isn't always linear, there can be spaces and breaks- whatever is required to give our future spouse our best self. People in love know this and it is one of the best lessons I've learned.

It was lockdown 2020 and nothing made sense anymore. I didn’t know if my hospital would survive the economic catastrophe upon us and I didn’t know if our government would have the answers our society needed. My friends and I met on Zoom. As the doctor in the group, I assured them that this would all pass soon, and that we would be seeing each other in person. In truth, I didn’t know any better than they and my faith in the system was shaken. Uncertain about asymptomatic transmission, I had stopped visiting my elderly parents. It was at that time that I received a rishta (potential suitor). I had tried and failed with countless others, and in such a crazy time, who knew if ANY rishta would ever pan out? I sat on the information, unsure of what to do with myself. My clinic was closed and we were shuttered in our homes. For many days, I simply walked the streets with an iced coffee in hand. “Hello! I am Zara”, she messaged, curiously. While I was wandering my neighborhood aimlessly, she had worked up the courage to message me. In spite of my cynicism, I couldn’t ignore the fact that the girl was stunningly beautiful. We started talking on the phone. We talked for hours: while folding laundry, while cooking prime rib, while sipping on cups of hot cocoa. I had never felt so comfortable with anyone in my life. We were just getting to know each other, and yet it felt like we had known each other our whole lives. Movies, music, prayer, food, coffee, comedy, shoes, people. You name it, we discussed it. She understood me, and I HAD to get to know her more. We decided to risk it…what’s the point of living if you can’t feel alive? I drove to San Francisco to meet the girl I couldn’t get out of my head. I liked her even more than I thought I would. With a cute smirk on her face, she handed me a tasty local coffee, and thanked me for driving so far. We talked and walked and talked some more. We shared hot Thai takeout and vented to each other about life in isolation. Everything felt so right. I reached for her hand and she took it. We beamed as we looked in each other’s eyes. I left that day feeling so sure I had found my person. But doubt soon poured in. What about the distance? What if the lockdown gets more strict? What if you don’t stay in California. I spent the rest of the year regretting my inaction. When the student is ready, the master shall appear. I spent much of the next year reflecting on who I really was, and why I was here on this earth. Through it all, I decided it was time to get my life together. I doubted she would still be single, but I knew that you miss every shot you don’t take. So I shot my shot. It hit its mark. The romance officially began, and mark my words… it will never end.