Sneha Raza had been deeply disturbed for months.
For the past few years, she had watched Mahesh—her partner of seven years—change. The boy she fell in love with in college, bright, kind, and brave enough to love someone from another faith, had slowly grown into someone she could barely recognize. A sense of militancy and intolerance had started to creep into his conversations, and with each passing year, it only intensified.
They had met as classmates and fallen in love in the third year. Mahesh, a top performer, now worked at a multinational company. Sneha had admired his hard-working nature, his intellect, and most of all, his courage to be open about loving a Muslim girl in a conservative society.
But now, that courage seemed replaced by bitterness and hate.
The Words That Wound
What disturbed Sneha the most was Mahesh’s increasing hatred towards Muslims. His language had become abusive and dehumanizing.
“These bastards need to be taught a lesson. They should all be deported to Pakistan,” he’d say, proudly, among friends.
Even in private moments with her, he didn’t hesitate.
“The biggest problem in our country is Muslims. Not all are like you. Even your family dresses like terrorists. Sure, I have a Muslim friend—but good Muslims are rare.”
Every word was a stab.
Sneha tried—again and again—to reason with him. To remind him of what he once believed. But her efforts fell on deaf ears.
A Dangerous Drift
Two years ago, Mahesh had joined a fascist, communal organization, aligning himself with a political party notorious for its divisive rhetoric. He spent hours daily as a social media foot soldier in their IT Cell, forwarding provocative messages and inflammatory videos. He created WhatsApp groups to circulate content that called for violence against minorities.
He began trolling friends who shared posts about communal harmony, sometimes even threatening them.
His performance at work plummeted, but he didn’t seem to care. His world was now filled with hate-fueled activism.
Sneha’s Dilemma
Sneha’s heart ached. Not just for herself, but for the life she had imagined with him. She had struggled to convince her traditional Muslim family to accept an interfaith marriage. Now, her parents had finally agreed—and were urging her to settle down.
But how could she?
“I never imagined a family life driven by hatred,” she thought. “How can I bring a child into a world like this, with a father so consumed by anger?”
Sneha had grown up witnessing conservatism within her own community—the suppression of women’s voices, the fear of ending up in an oppressive marriage. She had always told her friends, half-jokingly, “If I can’t find someone open-minded, my family might marry me off to a dadhiwala.”
But now, it wasn’t a joke anymore. She stood at a crossroad. One path led to a future she feared. The other—uncertain, but hers to define.
A New Possibility
That evening, Sneha met her best friend Ravi at a café after work. Over cups of chai and silent pauses, she poured her heart out.
“I’ve decided to end it,” she said softly. “Mahesh is no longer the man I loved.”
Ravi looked at her with gentle understanding. Then, gathering courage, she continued.
“Since we both are searching for someone to marry... can I ask something unusual?”
He nodded.
“Can we think about... marrying each other?”
Ravi was stunned—but in the most beautiful way. Sneha had been his closest friend for five years, a guiding light in many dark moments.
“Thank you, Sneha,” he said, his voice warm. “It would be an honour to marry someone like you. I just need to speak with my parents first. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
The Light Returns
Ravi had long been disheartened by the rising tide of religious intolerance and communal hatred in the country. The polarisation, the othering, the noise of identity politics — it all weighed heavily on his heart.
He was someone who believed that marriages should not be limited by caste or religion. To him, interfaith and inter-caste marriages were not just personal choices — they were acts of resistance, small yet powerful steps toward a more equal and compassionate society.
So when Sneha proposed the idea of marriage, he didn’t just see a life partner — he saw a chance to live out his beliefs. To say through his actions what words could never fully capture.
Yes, his father was initially hesitant — a familiar hesitation rooted in generations of cultural fear. But Ravi spoke with clarity, conviction, and calm. And slowly, his father came around. This wasn’t just about marrying Sneha. This was about choosing unity over division. And Ravi was ready.
That night, Sneha lay in bed, her room dim, heart pounding. Her phone rang. It was Ravi.
“Thank you, Sneha... for choosing me,” he said. “My parents agreed. It’s my good luck to get to marry you.”
Tears welled in Sneha’s eyes—not from sorrow, but from relief. From hope. From the possibility of a life built on mutual respect, not ideology.
She whispered back, “Thank you, Ravi.”
As she stared into the quiet darkness, her eyes glimmered with the shine of a life she had always dreamt of—a life of dignity, courage, and love.
End Note
In a world increasingly divided, Sneha chose conviction over convenience, and compassion over compromise. And in doing so, she not only reclaimed her life—but also illuminated a path forward for those still struggling in silence.
