This year, T and I completed two decades of being friends. This is inclusive of the few years of dating and seven years of being married. I had written a post some time back describing how it took us a decade, a broken relationship each and three cities to realize that we were destined to be together. This time, I thought of writing about the fate of romance post marriage.
We were married in June 2011. During that period, my Banking job had me posted in Mysore and T relocated from Kolkata to enroll in an M. D. course there. The initial few months were filled with fun, frolic, and food. We realized that we had so many things in common. We loved movies, experimenting with food and traveling. While I loved the mountains, he preferred the sea but we considered that to be an opportunity to explore different locations together. If there was one area that we never wanted to visit, it had to be the Forests. That is why despite being so near, we never planned a trip to Bandipur or Masinagudi. Truth is that I’m actually scared of any creature bigger than a cockroach. So from lizards to elephants, I would not want any kind of rendezvous with them.
Birthdays and special occasions meant grand celebration with cakes, flowers, balloons, and gifts. Life couldn’t have been more perfect.
The bubble burst soon when my mom passed away within five months of our marriage. There was mayhem in my life. I was shattered deep within but T turned out to be my biggest caregiver. He helped me muster the courage to face the reality by staying supportive and non-judgemental. I realized that our concept of love is so skewed because of the unrealistic romance in movies. Incidents like these actually tested the mettle of a relationship.
During this period, I had a lot of communication issues owing to the inner conflicts. Realizing my mental state, T encouraged me to get back to the habit of writing a diary. Penning down my thoughts turned out to be cathartic. After a few months, I developed a habit of writing short messages to him. Instead of a message on the mobile, I would leave an envelope with a handwritten note inside it. started writing short letters to him. His schedule was earlier than mine. Somedays it would just be about some mundane thing but I kept at it. He rarely wrote back but he never failed to reciprocate through his gestures. He still has the collection of notes safeguarded within the envelopes. They remind us of surviving through the most difficult of times.
In 2014, we moved back to Bangalore to start new jobs. For me, it was homecoming since I had already spent more than five years in the city before. For him, it was a new phase of adjustment again. From house hunting to interviewing cooks, were equal partners in sorting out life and associate requirements in a new city. Life had become full of surprises again, the biggest one being my pregnancy. It was difficult to cope up with unusual physical complications, a full-time Banking job and without family. I decided to avail maternity leave from my eight-month onwards.
On the third day of my resting period, we had gone out for a movie to celebrate the new phase about to begin. On returning back, we noticed that the front door of our apartment was wide open. I was confident about having locked it before leaving. Within minutes our worst fears came true as it was evident that a burglary had taken place. The debit cards and books were scattered on the bed. The wardrobes had been rummaged. Fortunately, we never kept jewelry or large amounts of cash in the house. The only thing that interested the burglars was cash of five thousand that was the salary to be paid to my house-help the next day.
The police were informed and an FIR was lodged. It was soon discovered that two more apartments in the building had been broken into. Cash and golden ornaments had been stolen. The incident was a trigger point for the families to coax us to shift back to Kolkata until it was time for me to join back work.
The year after my son was born, we moved back to Kolkata for good. Life had suddenly taken a different turn as we became parents. The significance of balloons wasn’t restricted to being an adornment on the walls anymore but they were an item of joy that evoked giggles of our infant. Understanding birds and animals have become a recent hobby with the toddler now. Just last week, I chanced upon a conversation where T was discussing a trip to Kaziranga National Park, Assam. I guess a trip is being planned to Dooars forest this year end and I am already ransacking my brains to find an excuse to avoid it.
In the past two decades, T has written a letter to me only once. I had quit my job soon after moving back to Kolkata. Initially, I had planned on rejoining the corporate world once my son started preschool. But this sabbatical gave me a chance to connect with my passion for writing. T and I had endless conversations about the prospect of me being a solopreneur and he was definitely more excited than me. Every step that I took to venture out in this direction, my inner dilemma made me retrace my steps until I received an envelope inside my Agatha Christie book. It had three lines written on a white sheet of paper.
“Quit your fears, not your dreams.
No matter what, we will always have each other’s back.
I love you, forever and always“
Last year on September 13, soniasmusings.com was launched. It’s been a year of my journey as a blogger and then a published author and I dedicate this post to the man who has been the fire under my wings. I realized that the definition of love and romance has changed with time and age, with the arrival of kids and on circumstances. The cakes, flowers, candlelight dinners mostly have been replaced by grocery lists, toys and play zone outings. But what hasn’t changed is that special feeling of being together as a single team. Our romance has evolved into a more mature, solid and beautiful love story.