In the days that followed, Bhargav Kulkarni found himself in a relentless whirlwind of matrimonial meetings, each one orchestrated by his well-meaning family. The array of potential brides was diverse, each bringing her own expectations and dreams into the mix.

In a coffee shop, Bhargav sat across from Archana, a prospective bride chosen by his family. She was a picture of traditional grace, her demeanor calm and pleasant."So, Archana," Bhargav began, trying to initiate a casual conversation, "What are your preferences in general? Say, how do you like your coffee?"Archana smiled, "I always prefer a lot of sugar in my coffee. It brightens up my day."Bhargav's face twitched slightly. He preferred his coffee bitter, a small detail but to him, it spoke of larger incompatibilities. The meeting ended politely, but later, to his family's dismay, Bhargav cited this trivial difference as a reason not to proceed.

During yet another arranged meeting, Bhargav encountered a young woman named Riya. In front of their families, she was the epitome of traditional virtues. However, when Bhargav met her privately for coffee, her demeanor shifted drastically."Finally, away from all that pretense," Riya sighed, her tone casual, "You know how it is, we have to put on a show for the families. I hate joint families. I would prefer a garland over the pictures of my inlaws instead of having to share my husbands time with his family." Bhargav was taken aback by the stark contrast. He believed in authenticity and honesty but the conversation left him feeling disconcerted. He couldn't move forward knowing her personality.

For Bhargav, each meeting only deepened his resolve to remain single. The reasons for his rejections ranged from genuine to the bizarre to the peculiar. One candidate was dismissed for her preference for sugar in her coffee, which Bhargav deemed incompatible with his own taste. Another was turned away for her fondness for of superstitious beliefs. The list of reasons grew increasingly outlandish, much to his family's frustration.

But behind these seemingly trivial excuses lay Bhargav's deeper turmoil. Many of the young women he met seemed to wear a dual mask – presenting a demure, traditional persona in front of the families, but revealing a starkly different character in private. Bhargav was disenchanted by this discrepancy, feeling it was a game of pretenses he was unwilling to play since he was already hurt by one who was pretentious.

Moreover, a number of prospects seemed more enamored by his status and looks than interested in genuine companionship. The shallowness of such interactions left him cold. In some cases, the candidates were straightforward about not wanting to live with his family, a deal-breaker for Bhargav, who valued family unity above all.

Amidst these meetings, Bhargav encountered a few who appeared sincere and genuine. Yet, his past experiences had left a deep-seated lack of trust, making him second-guess their intentions. His heart, once burnt, now shied away from the faintest hint of deceit or incompatibility. As the string of rejections grew longer, his family's patience wore thin. They couldn't fathom Bhargav's relentless dismissal of every match. "What exactly are you looking for, Bhargav?" they would ask in exasperation, unable to understand his perspective. Bhargav himself grappled with frustration unable to answer that question. He was caught in a tug-of-war between his family's expectations and his own apprehensions. Each failed meeting was a reminder of his deep-seated fears and insecurities, reinforcing his belief that staying single was perhaps his destined path. Nights on the balcony became Bhargav's refuge, where he would reflect on these encounters against the backdrop of Bengaluru's skyline. With each rejection, he felt an increasing sense of isolation but also a conviction in his choice. The journey to find reasons to reject a partner, he realized, was getting harder and harder.