A night to remember…

I stood staring out of the window, not very happy to see the heavens pouring down. It had been raining since last two days…the roads, clogged with plastic packets everywhere, looked like big drains…Hundred thoughts wrestled in my mind… power outages had left inverter overworked, washed clothes had not dried and maid was on an infinite leave….I stared at load of house-chores without any human or electric gadget for help….

All of a sudden, Shashank, in a rare romantic mood snuggled up from back, nuzzling at my ear…planting little kisses on my neck….

“Remember…?” He whispered.

“What..?” Though distracted by his tickling nose, my brain was still thinking about the looming mountain of workload!

“Ummm….” he nibbled on my ear sending a sweet shiver…..“Our first kiss! It was raining as much that day and you were so nervous!!”

Memories…..they ebb and rise just like waves drawing us into their sweet-sad folds!

Yes… I did remember. How could I forget my first ever kiss…. it was only weighed down under responsibilities and duties of married life. A little dusting and the memory showed up like fresh dew drops on the early morning leaves.

Love seems much sweeter with little stolen moments…

Our families being friends, we had seen each other grow up. We had teased, fought and consoled each other till our families shifted to new cities…. We lost touch for many years.

Six years later, we met as two young adults; he a freshly commissioned fighter pilot in the Indian Airforce posted somewhere in Punjab and me, pursuing a college degree in Nagpur. He sought me out and landed at my college hostel…..And I was secretly thrilled at his impulsive act!

Bogged with a nervous energy and loss of proper words, we only managed to convey that each of us had thought about the latter all through those years….We parted as friends again and began the journey of really knowing each other through letters which still lie in a box at home…

Six months rolled by in proclaiming our love through letters before he managed to take leave again…..since our second meeting had the benefit of acknowledged  feeling towards each other, so the day was spent in holding hands, silly laughter, coy smiles and shy longing gazes….just like they show in movies!

By evening when I dropped him at airport, heavens conspired in our favour… sending dark clouds over-burdened with rain. It was a deluge….and the flights were cancelled!

To my pleasant surprise, he returned at my hostel gates dripping wet and grinning sheepishly…

“I forgot to kiss you!” is all he said. Scooping me up, he kissed like there was no tomorrow….sudden, fiercely passionate lingering kisses soaking wet with millions of raindrops… our love sealed with the first kiss, stolen from the world, right on the road!!

Not only did the raindrops on my windowpane, bring memories alive, they also had recreated a perfect setting for a romantic rendezvous.

And just like that our lips locked again….

Chronicles of my Love Story: 3. We meet again…

Defense Academy trains all the basics to aspirants of all three branches. After graduating from defense academy the cadets go for two-year training of the specific branches, that is army, navy and air force. Post those two years the young men get commissioned as officers and posted to various parts of the country.

Architecture is a five-year course and students graduate with a degree of B. Arch. In 1993, I took admission in the college at Nagpur, Maharashtra.  It was an all girls college.

I was in the third year of my course when that young man was commissioned as a Pilot Officer, posted in Assam. The college hostel where I was putting up had the p.a system to announce visitors or incoming phone. Architecture college was hosting a national fest in 1996 February and I was a part of it. Late in evening when all students returned to the hostel, my name was announced for an incoming call from Asaam. I received the call.

In six years that had passed when that boy left for defense academy and I for college, we had not exchanged even a single word. I never expected him to remember me let alone call me up after such a long time. But it was him…..

He: Hello, Shoma , I am Shashank. Remember me?

I: Um, ummm….I, yes I do.

He: Ah, Thank God for that! Can you give me your postal address?

I: Um….how did you find this phone number?

He: I will write to you about it….is it okay? Are you willing to give me your postal address?

I: Umm… Okay.

Chronicles of our Love Story : 1. Destined to meet

I was reading a post about “arranged marriages” by Arindam Mohapatra and the associated comments when I got this idea to chronicle the story of my “love” marriage.

Destined to meet

“There’s nowhere you can be that isn’t where you’re meant to be…”
― John Lennon

Destiny finds some way to bring the two souls together  and makes them fall in love…

It was in 1984 that my parents got posted to Ghaziabad District Hospital. I was all of nine years old then and unawares of the difference between a big city and a town. The only thing mattered was finding friends in the school and around our home. We had moved in to a rented bungalow which was however surrounded by a lot many empty housing plots. Making friends seemed difficult.

We had hardly settled in the new house and new school when a horrifying experience changed everything. My parents, both doctors had joined the new hospital and were not available till late afternoon at home. My grandmother joined us for few days to help.

Three men had stalked us since the day we moved in. It was pouring heavily when they struck armed with knives and guns. They ransacked the house, threatened my seven-year old sister with knife and hurt my grandmother with the butt of the gun. I slipped out of the door to get help, but the robbers noticed and left in hurry taking whatever they could lay their hands on..

This one incident suddenly changed everything. We shifted to better and more populated locality and a better school. The new rented house had the landlord staying on the ground floor. The land lord belonged to the same community as us and he introduced us to other community members. And suddenly we had a lot of acquaintances in a new city.

This Maharashtrian community celebrated the festivals together and we soon became active members pitching in the celebrations and associated preparations. It was through these festivities that we came across this family…..two grown up sisters and one lanky little boy who happened to be in the same school as I.

Being in the same age group we used to play, fight and argue with each other not knowing that we will end up marrying one day!

Had it not been our destiny to meet, my parents wouldn’t have shifted to new city, robbers wouldn’t have attacked us and we wouldn’t have met with other people of our community and I would have never met this cute guy!!

We were meant to be in that city because up there somewhere GOD had designed the events so that we could get a chance to meet. We were destined to….

A day for LOVE…

Me:      What are you giving me this Valentines?
Him:    Did I last year?
Me:      No!
Him :   And before that?
Me:     No!
Him:    It is not an Indian custom !!
Me:      I know it’s not our custom but you used to make every Valentine day special before we got married, so why not now?
Him:   Aw! come on we have been married for last 12 yrs now! You know I love you!

That was our conversation two days back.  And since last few years the conversation has almost been same, the only difference being the number of years in the last dialogue!

“You know I love you”…..I kept thinking about this and realized that over the last few years both of us have not said the three most important words very often! Both of us just know that love hasn’t vanished……it is there!

Many relationship gurus have emphasized on professing one’s love for the partner for a stronger bond. I do not completely agree with that though. I believe that actions speak louder than words. May be both of us do not actually say the three magic words aloud but the little things we do for each other are proof enough.

The other night I got stung by a scorpion and my right hand was burning with pain. After dropping our sleepy daughter at a friend’s place, he sat there all night by my side in clinic rubbing my itching palm. He had his work the next day but he kept awake chatting and stroking my head. By the time my pain and itching subsided it was well past midnight. Is this love or what?

He is fond of various cakes, pizzas and pastas that I bake. He even boasts of my skills among his friends (now that’s a different story altogether when couple of his friends decide to turn up unannounced to taste my baked stuff and I have to slog in the kitchen). But its him who swells up in pride when his friends compliment me on my cooking. That too is love…

He knows I love flowers but he always forgets to buy flowers for the vase in bedroom but lands up at my workplace with a red rose. He at times cooks food so that I could rest…He feels bad if I cry…. Isn’t this love?

He doesn’t read my blog posts but he brags to his friends about my writing abilities….He even tried his hand at this montage for the blog post. Of course this is love!! (Another previous post; a poem that I wrote is  my take on our love https://shomabhagwat.wordpress.com/2011/07/20/love-is/)

So do we need one day for saying ” I love you” ? I guess not, because everyday is a day to love……Its only one life that God has given us, why waste it in ego tantrums, scathing words or silly squabbles? Why say “I love you” on Valentine’s Day …Why not make each day mean it?

Oh! Yeah! Maybe its good way to make him buy some really nice gift for me…. So cheers to St. Valentine and a Happy Valentine’s Day to all….May there be love and peace in whole world!