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 first time that I laid my eyes on you, my heart nearly skipped a beat. It was love at first sight and I was sure that we were meant to be together. The year was 2002 and I had moved to Delhi for my first post-graduation. Amidst adjusting to a new phase of life and struggling with emotional turbulence, you were the reason I stayed connected and never felt lonely. You were privy to the most private conversations yet I felt comfortable in your presence. The fact that you came into my life with my parents’ approval made it easy for me to take care of our joint finances.
Two years later, I moved to Bangalore and you chose to come along. Initially, you had little reception issues but you coped up quickly. As I joined the corporate world, you became my go-to medium to stay connected with the world. I accept that I had random thoughts about approaching some better prospects as my affordability increased but eventually I shunned them away. I could never think of replacing you.
I tried various options to keep you updated with the latest trends in fashion and technology but you were simply not interested. Many a time, I bore the brunt of sarcastic jibes because of my attachment to you. Then suddenly you started showing signs of mood swings by intermittently blocking all modes of communication. I grew exasperated.
We were both trying to decode each other and the future of this relationship as I started a new journey as a B-school student. You completely refused to co-operate then and I had no option but to seek a new relationship with a good-looking, sophisticated and updated support system.
I have lost count of the number of letters I have written to you for the past 7 years. All I know is that there are going to be still many more. If only you had left behind an address where I could have posted them, you would have known how much your absence has affected me.
I am sure you know that I have become a writer now. The idea was planted in my head by you through constant encouragement on every single piece of my writing (even though some really deserved to be trashed). Baba – the Maths Professor took credit for any progress in the science subjects while arts was majorly your domain of expertise.
I was in the second standard when I wrote an essay by myself. I don’t even remember the topic today. All I remember is the butter-laden hot paratha as a reward for my efforts. As I grew up, I stopped involving you in my projects and assigned tasks but I know you never stopped reading my Bengali and English notebooks. Sometimes you came back with suggestions for improvement and I felt angry with you for interfering. I hope you know that it was my teenage confused mind. Because today I realize that you were the reason for me to keep writing. I might have inherited the love of reading from Baba but my love for penning down of thoughts came from you.