Welcome home Rocky!

Copenhagen is popularly called the cyclist paradise. Little wonder then that it was time we brought home a little paradisaical treat of our own. Friends - meet Rocky. The latest member of our quickly growing Indo-Scandinavian family. Rocky is fast, light and most importantly - cheap. ^_^

Click below for larger versions of Jaya and her latest obsession - Rocky!




PS: Yes - I too took a ride on Rocky yesterday and it was a little ...ahem...rocky. o.O

An unabridged emotion

It finally happened. After what seemed like a nervous wait for the unknown eventuality, it finally did. Actually it began quite fervently yesterday but took on the gorgeous form of a relentless wave last night as it showered generous flakes of soft feather-weight white snow all over Copenhagen. What made it particularly special for me was that it was Jaya's first real chance at indulging in some serious snow fights. As she threatened to swing a big fist full at me last night, we stood in our cargo shorts clicking warm photographs under a cold blanket and became children for a few brief moments.

I couldn't help but relate to her unabridged enthusiasm at the whole affair. I remember being absolutely ecstatic back in 1992, when I had first encountered snow at the foothills of Kedarnath in North India. As a lad in the prime of his teenage years, I recall being absolutely fascinated with the cold and hard chunks of natural ice that seemed to give me so much joy just by being themselves. I then met snow again in the Xmas of 2000, during my first visit to the United States. I remember being equally fascinated by it even the second time but I also remember being subtle about the whole thing in the presence of my American-born cousins. Had it just been me I'd have probably danced in euphoria once again.

As I watched Jaya show me the photographs she had taken of the heavy snowfall around the city, I could feel that familiar pulsating emotion that only folks like us can experience. And by that I mean – people who never grew up around snow. Even though I traveled the country growing up, I never lived in a place where it snowed. Heck, I used to think it would snow everywhere except in India until I realized that snowfall had nothing to do with countries and had more to do with where they were located. That fact was rather unsettling since all geographical aspects aside, I felt suddenly alienated from this wonderful experience. As I'd watch New Year celebrations on the television from New York or Moscow or somewhere else in the foreign lands where snow was a regular feature during this time of the year, I'd always wonder what it was about snow that made us – well, so child-like. We would be tempted to go out there, even in sub zero temperatures, to make snowmen or have intense snowball fights. We'd want to jump, crash, hop and even slide down the terrain as long as we knew that the cool and comforting mattress of pure white snow was there to help us along the way. Maybe it was in that innocent sense of natural care, that my imagination, of snow always being associated with something so joyous and entertaining, found wings. I cant say for sure.

All these thoughts returned to me as I watched Jaya call her family up and share her wonderful first experience with the big bold white. I am sure she will see many such snowfalls in the months, and even years, to come. But I am also certain that no matter how many winters and snowflakes embrace her from this point forward, she will never forget this day when she got up and the entire city's stony silence had been transformed into a giant canvas of pure excitement. Ah...how wondrous would it be if it would snow everywhere in the world at the same time so that all of us – earth citizens – could, for one brief fleeing moment, forget about hating or loving each other and just … just enjoy this unabridged emotion.

Oh well. If what I hear about global warming is true, then this hope of mine could definitely be a reality. Perhaps with tragic consequences...but definitely an undeniable reality. Until then, I am happy that Jaya now has something that is certainly so unique.

Seasonal Musings

As a nonchalant bachelor I would always wonder why it was that unassuming men – orderly, regular, prompt to be online and most importantly, always in disposal of infinite time given their constant status as ‘Available’ or ‘Busy’ on a dozen messenger windows – would mysteriously recede into abstract oblivion once they got married. For a long time I had blamed it on the much hyped nuance of the seemingly complex formula called ‘married life’ that somehow would make it quite impossible for a man (and a woman!) to be who they were during their pre-marital births. This included being able to spend hours together from work (or home) staying online, spending 2-3 hours at one stretch gossiping about absolutely meaningless stuff or just plain sitting idle as they’d absorb every final atom of whatever it was the Internet and the rest of the world was offering as a bribe.

And then I got married one day.

Now, without being the kind who’d immediately set himself to the defensive mode and start ranting publicly about how it all finally made sense and how it was indeed Herculean for a newly wed husband to stay away for long durations from his equally newly wed missus, let me elaborate my musing. I doubt if it has less to do with the fact that my blogs aren’t as frequent as they used to be and more with the fact that I actually don’t miss blogging so much? Maybe that’s the wrong way to put it. I don’t know. But my days right now are actually filled with things I never thought I’d find myself being a part of. For instance, taking turns in doing the dishes. Being the wayward ‘maverick’ that I was for almost a decade, it was a given that I always was the one to tend to the oily and curry stained china every time I was done heartily gorging in their contents. But now – well, now it is different. We have a routine that we follow to ensure neither of us gets too tired or bored from this rather mundane chore. And then there is the travel. Why on Earth would I ever spend a good couple of hours looking for accommodation and sight seeing tips for Greece! Heck, I was in South America for 7 years and I didn’t even visit Brasil! Given my seriously painful allergy towards traveling alone, I just didn’t feel like going through it at the time. But now, with my girl in my life I find myself transforming into someone who actually wants to travel and not has to. Bizarre. And then there is the shopping. Jolly good shopping! I find myself walking into random stores to see if I can spot something that she will like for the house. Something that would make her smile. Something that would fire a spark in her eye as she’d examine it with a pause and shake her head slowly validating my unplanned expenditure. And all this over a small candle stand? To re-word myself – bizarre.

People might be quick to label this ‘love’ and be done with it. But I wonder if it is more than just that. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that humans, by nature, need associative validation. It’s like a scientist who can spend a decade inventing a miracle drug but would never feel truly complete until someone actually pat him on the back and appreciated his invention. It is in this association that we define our seasons…our moods. It is perhaps in this stereotypical cliché that a newly wed couple, who is always in the ‘honeymoon phase’, actually ends up redefining their entire personality. They end up becoming each other.

The hilarity continues. I find myself calling a raw mango ‘kairi’ instead of ‘maavin kai’ and an onion ‘kaanda’ instead of ‘pyaaz’. I refer to a commotion on the street as ‘locha’ instead of ’jhagda’ and say ‘kaai zaa-la?’ instead of ‘kya hu-aa?’ What is even more interesting is I don’t even notice these things anymore. The same is happening with her too. I have spotted her many a time using my body language to explain something or repeating a song that I might have mindlessly started to hum. I find her calling me ‘ShaKri’ when she is excited and ‘Shashi’ when something serious needs to be addressed. A very interesting pattern starts to emerge with this sort of associative validation, isn’t it? Neither of us knows we are doing it after a while but we know we don’t mind it.

To return to my initial rant about why it is that I feel men and women become less frequent from the cyber space or anywhere else after marriage, it is possibly because they are busy transforming into their spouse. A healthy, much needed and definitely monumental phase of the relationship. And for that, I wouldn’t mind looking over a lot of things – even blogging.

Well, I have to run now. She is making something new out of paalak leaves and I actually am convinced it will be awesome as always considering the aroma that is traveling up to me. Even if I can’t truly share the emotion she has right now to surprise me when I eat it, I can at least join her in the season she is currently in…isn’t it?

09/09/09

The folks from the Kommune (regional state/county) replaced the name plate outside the apartment today. Given as to how there is so much significance being attached to today's date - 09/09/09 - I thought it was only fair to document this event with a little photographic spice and poetic salt.

Smiles.

Something else...something more...

1st Wedding Monthaversary!

It isn't the most pleasant experience to have to spend the very 1st month of wedding away from the beloved. But then despite the bizarre separation me and Jaya are experiencing (thank you visa officials! You guys have no clue how powerfully 'God like' you guys can be! Heck, maybe you do!) I knew there was no need to be blue about it. Hence, in the sunshine of that new hope and renewed faith that we two will be together soon, here is my gift to her this time around. And with it is the prayer, that next month I will be able to spend it with her without the needless distraction of the Internet.

Love in the time of Swine Flu

Yes – this is a married man talking here. After three decades and a year, I am finally the proud owner of a glittering golden circle on my right hand’s ring finger. A shine that, despite the lack of the one who lovingly slipped it in place on the 28th of last month, continues to fill me with the same affection I have always seen in the honest depths of her soulful eyes. As I now await the blessed return of the proverbial bride into my nomadic existence overseas, these are the thoughts that buzz around me. And so, as I sit punching in the electronic squares all the while admiring the circle of trust smiling back at me, I find these word patterns taking shape.

The summer of my life’s highlight was peppered with what can only be called a maniacal concoction of the extreme nature. Right from the moment I sat with my father as he drove me home from the airport on the cold 13th morning of last month, it was destined to be unadulterated chaos. Having returned from a fortnight of theories and facts in London, I was eagerly awaiting a much needed break. And yes, there was definitely the promise of one too. But then there is hope, and there is hope’s shadow. As I eagerly look back today after having settled into my residence away from my roots, I find myself wondering where that word – vacation – vanished into! Did it make a brief appearance between the days and fly by unnoticed? Or was my preoccupation with my thoughts so intense that I didn’t even acknowledge its humble presence? I am not sure anymore. But then I cannot rant about the issues I had to face to get things organized for the wedding since these were things that had to be done. And no, I can’t even whine about a very hectic post wedding schedule that involved the welcoming of a new bride into the old household and daily trips to relatives’ places followed by a strong bout of viral fever. No. These were things, I’d like to imagine, that were just meant to be. I was in dire need of some down time after the insanity that had ensued thus far and if letting my body peak at 102 degrees with an inexplicably random bout of fever was the way to go, then so be it. And no – I definitely cannot discount my beloved half for anything. It might as well have been her never dying spirit that runs through me that brought me back to my feet sooner than I’d have normally taken in such instances.

Nevertheless, surrounded by daily tabloid spills of the dreaded Swine Flu and haunted by post viral fever rash, I did manage to limp back to where I belong – my home away from home – today afternoon, albeit solo. Sure, things still aren’t perfect as I now find myself changing skin into the quintessential married bachelor while Jaya awaits her visa papers to be processed next week. But even in this madness there is some relief. Even in this roller coaster ride of a dozen emotions, there is a silent wave of inexorable joy. Despite the month and a fortnight I’ve had, despite the illness, despite the fatigue and definitely despite the joints that still throb from inevitable jetlag, I am smiling as I punch in these words all the time glancing at the golden circle embedded on my hand. It is there, right there, that I find a way to breathe. It is in the pangs of that beautiful feeling that I know, deep inside me, that this day will pass too. It is thus that I convince myself that being high on my beloved’s thoughts can survive anything – even H1N1. And for that, I thank the Almighty on bended knees.

Thank you, Lord.

A much needed perspective!

There is possibly nothing more realistic than an Indian wedding. Even so because of the vast abundance of perspectives it helps us get. Given the numerous self styled nuances our nation’s male dominant chutzpah has successfully help create over the centuries, it is little wonder then that what I now know is a serious reality check. Every time I would pass by elaborate labyrinths of colorful flower banners outside glittering kalyana mantap’s in Bangalore, I would wonder what the to-be weds might be going through. Considering the amount of rituals involved even in the most minimalistic Hindu fare, there is definitely little room for the ‘fun factor’ as the priest takes the couple through a journey of verses and exercises. As much as I am fascinated by the variety in these activities, I cannot help but reflect on what the travel has been thus far. In a rather interesting turn of events, me and my family found ourselves (despite the much hyped ‘we are from the groom side’ rhetoric) having to take care of everything a bride’s family ideally would. This, of course, was because my fiancée’s family had kindly agreed to have the wedding in Bangalore instead of Mumbai, where she is from. If I knew then what I know now, I want to think that I would have flown into India better prepared. For starters, catering is a million dollar jackpot. Getting the right caterer who understands and acknowledges your traditions is a serious challenge. After our family caterer had quoted an impossible seeming number for our moderate sized marriage’s food requirements, we had to scramble for alternatives. In that phase, I got an up close introduction to the challenges the girl’s family has to face with making such decisions. Everything from ensuring the work is done well and pleases each grinning face who shows up for the event becomes an automatic priority. Everyone from the DVD wallah who is charming you with his ‘high tech’ versions of yourself set amid graphic valleys to the flower decoration wallah who assures you he will recreate paradise at your doorstep, needs your kind ear. Phew! And all this with a budget line in mind! One thing is certain – after this 10 day long experience, I definitely have new found respect for every Indian girl and her family members. The amount of work that goes into making an Indian wedding tick is definitely no joke. And to think that the boy’s side actually has the cheek to demand dowry on top of this! No wonder such fellows need a strong kick in their derrieres. And for this much needed perspective, I cannot thank my in laws enough!

What dreams may come

or many years I have considered the dreams I see as an important source of information and reflection. Given the scientific and supernatural explanations that exist with dream interpretation, I decided to blog the three most comprehensive dream sequences I saw within the last week. Now, maybe they are all indicative of the same thing – the biggest decision of my life that takes place in July – but notwithstanding their symbolic value, I still wanted to see them in black and white, for once. There have been many dreams in the past that have been more in depth with their description than these but never before have I seen so many dream fragments connected to the same person and/or event. Hence, I felt the need to blog about it. So here we go.

Sequence 1

There is a long corridor that is painted red and green. I am sitting with my mother and helping her prepare some dish. My hands are soaked in the batter using which we are making the delicacy. At this point my brother comes running in with a pile of pink colored sheets. I immediately stop helping mom and start to chase him to retrieve those pages he has with him. After a brief pursuit I finally bag the sheets that have blue colored writing all over them. Some of the sentences on them are so badly crossed out multiple times that I cannot read a word of what the original thought was. On closer inspection I realize that they are actually love letters from Jaya. I recognize her handwriting and continue reading them as everything around me begins to fade out into a white glow. I can hear my mother shouting from inside the house warning me that she will tear up the sheets if I do not return to help her. I ignore her and continue reading the contents of the letters. Most of it is now incoherent to me but the one line which I cannot forget is – ‘How can something that is cause for my pain also be the medicine too?’ The air fills up with the aroma of a thousand roses as I continue reading the letters one by one...

Sequence 2
I am in a crowded bus surrounded by every relative I have known my whole life. Aunts, uncles, cousins, nephews, nieces – everyone is there. I find myself wondering how a bus would be enough to fit all 100+ of them! I then turn around to find my aunt Indu sitting next to me and enquiring me about something. I respond something incoherent while one of my cousins comes over and tells me they need to stop for some tender coconut water as everyone is quite thirsty and tired from the journey. I look outside the window and find dark green signs all over the city we are in with something written in Tamil. I do not know the language yet I find myself telling them that there is one coconut shop right around the corner. The bus stops and we all get down one by one and start ordering the coconuts. The man who sells the coconuts seems familiar. I do not know where I have seen him before but it is only after I awoke from this dream sequence that I realized who he was. More on that later. We ask him for directions to a river nearby and he speaks in fluent Kannada and tells us that the river is about half a kilometer from where we are. I ask him how he can speak such wonderful Kannada in what seems to be a predominantly Tamil speaking place. He says something I do not recollect properly now. We get back on the bus and I go to the driver to give him directions to the river. To my surprise I find that the driver is the same person who was selling the coconut water just a few seconds ago! I ask him how it is he does two things at one time to which he says something, again, I cannot recall. We arrive at the river that seems to be at the end of a dusty lane and we get ready to cross it. Someone suddenly remembers that Kamalu ajji (my late maternal grandmother) is also with us and needs a boat to be transported across the river. I turn around to find the driver and my brother both carrying a coracle and heading towards where we stand. We put the old lady on it and set her afloat only to realize she hasn’t been given a paddle! I turn to the driver to ask him for a paddle when I realize I am the only one there. All my relatives, the driver, the coracle – everything and everyone has vanished. It was only after waking up that I realized the driver and the coconut vendor was Krishna, Jaya’s elder brother...

Sequence 3

This one was the most descriptive among the three I am narrating here. I am inside a fort like enclosure with very high walls. A giant wooden door stands in front of me through which I am trying to look at an approaching procession. There is a lot of cacophony and musical instruments that are giving the procession a regal flair. A giant elephant is carrying a small mantapa inside which seems to be seated a woman with a veil covering her face. I try my best to open the Herculean wooden door but without success. I find myself wearing ragged clothes and I am also barefoot. Weird looking insects buzz around me and mock me telling me how it is impossible for someone like me to get a glimpse of whoever is in the mantapa on the elephant. I ignore their jabs and start running along the wall to see if there is an opening somewhere so that I can get out of the fort. But no matter how fast I run (and believe me, I was running real fast!) the wall doesn’t seem to end. If anything it continues to grow taller and wider. Eventually I hear a voice booming behind me telling me that the only way I can get past the wall is if I manage to get fire in my legs. I take a deep breathe and jump as high as I can to find that indeed, sparks are flying out of my feet and my foot is blazing with a dull glow as if it were ignited. I fly past the merciless hardness of the wall and cross over it in one giant leap. On getting to the other side I realize that the procession is headed to where I was standing before – inside the giant door. A pathway is surrounded on both sides by five-foot tall grass blades. I push my way past them and approach the procession slowly. When I realize I am at an arm’s length from it I once again kick myself up to be able to fly like before and to attempt reaching the mantapa atop the elephant’s back. But to my surprise I find that the higher the leap the farther the procession gets. This means that there is just no way I can ever reach the mantapa and see who the woman behind the veil is. Those pesky insects return to mock my attempt and take jabs at my meaningless trials at getting to see the princess. I continue watching in silence as the procession passes me by in all pomp and glory...

..ShaKri..

31 - 3 decades to find the 1

Dear reader,

Yes - it is here - March 18, 2009. My 31st birthday. As I reflect upon the journey my life has taken thus far, I am left quite speechless at the hundreds of surprises I have seen along the way. Some beautifully enchanting while others painfully sore. But as I start this new chapter in my life, I cannot help but beam with enthusiasm as the months ahead promise a lot of happiness, joy and peace. So here is a special tribute to that thought of satisfaction. And here is to note - that it took me 3 decades to finally find the 1 birthday where it all comes together. :)

The song clip you hear in this poem is a piece I have recently come to like immensely. Hence I thought of adding it as part of this minor celebration. Of course, I can never forget you, my audience, who visit and/or respond to my posts ever so often. Looking forward to another wonderful year of such blissful companionship. Thank you, reader. And enjoy!

..ShaKri..

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[Special Feature]- Happy 1st Monthversary!

Dear reader,

Today, 8th of March 2009, is the first month anniversary of the day I proposed to my fiance and she agreed. Truly a milestone day for the two of us as we finally found the true love of our lives in each other. Our days since then have been filled with wonderful hues of various new shades that are teaching us what it is like to finally have a soulmate in one's life. A time truly so golden that no amount of planning can ever make one ready for the amount of joy and satisfaction they bring with it. Hence, to commemorate this joyous first occasion, I decided to share with you all the gift I have designed exclusively for her on this special day. :-)

Cheers,

..ShaKri..

PS: The presentation has audio, so make sure you have your headphones ON! Of course, there is the option to switch OFF the music as well if you choose to.

...

14 planned days, 4 planned flights and 1 unplanned love story

The rays of a lazy sun filtered through his silent room. He opened his eyes to the noise of a familiar buzz that radiated from his cellular phone lying next to him. He quickly flipped it open and realized she had sent him a message. ‘Her first message for me in India…’ he thought as an unconscious smile escaped his curious lips. He continued reading the contents before pressing ‘Reply’ and punching in his own matrix of quiet alphabet patterns. This was Day 1 at 5:30AM.

The bizarreness of the affair started becoming obvious quite soon. The fact that the two of them had somehow, given the very restrictive framework of an arranged matrimonial alliance, managed to go beyond formalities into a whole new world of trust and friendship was becoming too apparent. Their conversations took various shapes – SMS messages, text chats, voice chats, web-cam chats and of course, telephone calls. While all this was good enough to keep them waiting for the eventual face to face interaction, there was something else to it too – it didn’t seem to matter. His liking for her was seeded in her shockingly pure shades of genuine earthy innocence while her adulation for him stemmed from the creative attempts of sporadic star spangles he had managed to weave around himself over the years. A pair, one might say, truly unique in relation to one another.

After having exchanged over 200 messages, 100 phone calls and several telepathic signals by the end of day 5, there was little else remaining to be said or done. The meeting of the revered elders now seemed like a ritual that needed to be executed. The truth was he had fallen for her the day she had switched on her webcam for the first time and seen directly into his eyes not realizing she had scooped out his heart in one simple glance. She, on the other hand, had found a new lease of humanity in this stranger who, despite being the quintessential paradigm shifting prodigy-like symbol with an ‘NRI’ label attached, still had his feet firmly stuck to his roots regardless of where his life’s branches extended to. A match that was beginning to compliment each other with every interaction. A pair that was now officially in love but with neither the mental setup nor the physical parameters to confess it yet.

Day 6 brought some hopeful indications to that end as he prepared to take flight # 1 out of his city the following day to the place where he was convinced his soul mate stood waiting for him. Having been a lone wanderer for close to a decade, he wasn’t entirely sure what to expect in terms of companionship. One of the consequences of living alone was this – self reliance. An emotion so intense that many people never get married only for fear of ‘losing’ that space of island life. However, what he didn’t know then was that his much appreciated ‘island dwelling’ wasn’t complete without another shadow that could compliment his ragged presence. A fact that would dawn upon him like a thunderbolt on Day 7.

After the initial bugaboos of ‘arranged marriage’ idiosyncrasy, the two finally got some time to be by themselves. They walked around for a couple of hours exchanging pleasantries and trying to connect the dots about each other that had formed in their heads over the weeks. She spent her time narrating stories from her past and showing him the neighborhood, while he reacted with the utmost sense of sincerity and slapped away annoying mosquitoes that had started their rounds at dusk.

The families decided to eat out for the night, so they went to a delicious ethnic joint in the city. Over several steel tumblers of savory curries and endless supplies of interestingly small rotis he never missed an opportunity to look at her. What the 4-5 weeks of nonstop interactions had done was ignited this brazen craving in him to catch her in all her moods – surprised, thoughtful, serious, unattached, sober, mischievous…all of it. And try as he may, given the rather generously joyful occasion that day, he continued to silently etch her face into the interiors of his heart. She continued stealing glances from him and giggling away incessantly at jokes that only the two of them knew about. Over uncertain queries from her confused elders, she continued munching her limited meal as the evening came to a pleasant close.

Day 8 was going to be a big one. Quite possibly the ‘deal maker’ day for the two. Every exchange thus far had basically culminated up to this day that would go on to become one of the biggest milestones in both their lives. Over idle chat and the humdrum of the traffic whizzing by, he suddenly turned to her and asked her if she would marry him. A gasp of genuine surprise escaped her lips as she paused for a second, before continuing with a reasonable ‘Sure!’ and then they sat in silence for a few seconds before breaking into short giggles at how easily they had moved on to the next step. As the day drew to a close, sitting next to the waves that crashed into custom made rocks with subdued fury, they confessed their love for one another. It was a simple affair. No trumpets. No needless exaggerations. No cards. No music. No sonnets. Nothing. Just a quiet look into each other’s eyes and the magical words spilled forth. It was becoming quite apparent that their story wouldn’t be an ordinary one given that the proposal had preceded the confession, when usually it’s the other way around.

He flew out of her city in flight #2 as day 8 ended. It wasn’t easy, as he later realized sipping cold tea on the flight, to walk away from someone who had responded in the affirmative to the two major things in life – love and marriage.

Day 9 and 10 were a blur. More talk. More SMS exchange. More calls and yes, definitely more love. It wasn’t clear to either of them if what they had done was timed properly, but what they definitely knew was this – it was the most beautiful thing they had ever done in all their lives. Hence, the timing aspect of it just didn’t mean much.

Day 11 arrived with another packet of beautiful surprises. She took flight #3 into his city and brought to him the much needed sense of calm he was so desperately seeking. One look into her calm yet sparkly eyes and he knew – he would live out the rest of his days gazing into those pools of everlasting beauty. The elders met at his place under the blistering sun over cups of sugary coffee and equally sweet juice. After a few placid interactions, it was settled. They then shook hands, touched feet and received the blessings of the elders all the while aware that they were already blessed to have each other. She was now officially welcomed to his family.

She flew out of his city in flight #4 at the end of day 11. A capsule in time he so wanted to forget as he helplessly watched her walk away from him. Their eyes met just before she disappeared in an ocean of bags with hands attached to them. It was in those few seconds, that they had a dozen conversations. And that was enough – for now, he thought. As he drove back into his city constantly checking his messages to see if she had sent anything, he was sure that she was doing the same thing. He found himself instinctively letting out a prayer – ‘God…let this be the last time I see her walk away from me…’ and looked away into the dizzyingly maniacal traffic. A unique bond had been created that the event of ‘marriage’ would only solemnize in public since their celebrations of the heart had already begun.

Days 12 and 13 went by with equal temperaments. He would stay up till the wee hours of the morning as she would spend a good 3-4 hours after a 10 hour shift at work talking to him. This love story had to be the shortest and yet the most beautiful in his recollection since what he had known was that he would have to get married some day. But what he didn’t know was that he would fall in love with his future spouse with such intensity even before the families had properly met. A prospect that has him smiling in blissful wonder even today.

Day 14 came. The day when he would leave his city and head back to his second home in the west. He arrived at the airport almost four hours in advance so that he could speak to her contently for as long as he could. Luck, again, was on his side as he found an isolated phone booth and spent 45 minutes speaking to her and wishing her the best on their first Valentine’s Day. After being eyed suspiciously by a waiting co-passenger, he had to hang up, albeit with a very heavy heart.

He flew out at 3:30AM on the 14th day and slept like a baby for five straight hours on the flight. It was only after waking up and heading to the washroom did he realize why it was. He no longer struggled to sleep on long flights since he had now fallen in love with the most beautiful dream.

..ShaKri..