Me wit my love

Me wit my love

Monday, March 13, 2017

Idea of Being in Love

My idea of being in love is that blissful feeling when one embraces one’s beloved drenched in rain with the subtle background music of violin playing from nowhere. Holding umbrellas in the rain with her. Sitting on the outskirts of the city, her head resting on the shoulder, letting the eyes wander aimlessly over the stars. Certainly not sitting on the sofa and eating silver quoted sweets questioning a perspective bride. The problem in India is most of us are living a real life but want our life to be like a Hindi movie where a common can fight a bunch of guys, dance with his girlfriend on the street. The same was the case with me as well. Throughout my teenage years, movies were my counselors on love. Like a typical Bollywood fan, I have been obsessed with the idea of true love being the 50 shades of pink. 

I had a huge fight with my girlfriend and it almost seems to be the end of our relationship. And sadly there was no music or dance sequence that would heal the wounds of a bitter quarrel and make everything happily ever after again. Everything seems so blurred. There was no clear path for me to go. Love and I have always shared some incongruity. You know what they say you will not get what you run behind desperately. After my relationship ended on a bitter note. I was broken down. But I had to move on with my life. Finally I had to do what I never intended to. I gritted my teeth and knocked on the door of my parent's home. When I grudgingly announced that I was ready for an arranged marriage à la Indian style, my parents were thrilled. Inevitably, my large extended family in all parts of India became involved in the match making process and I found myself with the extensive list of potential future wife (and a phone bills in four digits). My parents and I eventually narrowed the list down to seven girls whom we felt were compatible with. Out of seven that we visited, Mukta was the one who piqued my interest. 

We went to meet her family. I was a bundle of nerve sitting in the drawing room, shaking my legs, since it was the first time for me to meet a girl in a compact room with our parents staring at us and hoping that we would like each other at the very instance just because our kundlis are matching. I was looking at the girl's father and gave a half smile. After passing 10 minutes of awkwardness, she  entered the room. I was struck by her smile and her gracious mannerisms.  Soon enough, our attendants seemed to fade into the background. Her features were magic like the one you read about in books .When she smiled it felt as though the flowers had new colors vibrant and fresh you could give them new names and when she laughed the music seemed to come from instruments not yet known to mankind and when those eyes caught mine, I forgot all the pain, the disappointments of my wretched life and all the tragedies of yesterday my heart stopped and cleansed itself and it felt as though for the very first time it learnt to beat again and your existence found purpose. 

All we did was to engage in some polite conversation. But what grabbed my attention was that we had some much things in common. Mukta and I quietly connected. We found our self in hitting it off during our initial meeting, we expressed mutual interest in seeing each other again. Over the next two months, I found myself looking forward to our chaperoned dates, and eventually realizing that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. Our parents were ecstatic when we told them of our decision, and we were married within 6 months.

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