You were never in any of my plans. You never existed a year ago to me. My life was all about me and my family and my career and my friends and my boyfriends and my studies and my …. Oh well, my life was just a big fat MY.
I don’t think I liked you so much when I met you. I don’t think I ever thought of waking up to see your calm serene face as it sleeps every morning. I don’t think I ever thought of putting your name behind mine and thinking of, how would it sound.
I never imagined waking up to your kisses, I never imagined about setting 5 alarms ringing just so that I wake up in time for you to get ready, I never imagined unrequited love in my life, for, did I not think that all love is conditional?
I never was a family person. I used to hate cooking and cleaning and waking up early and respecting a bunch of people I’d never met earlier, and adhering to rules and regulations and asking for opinions before I did a thing, I never thought I could ever be so selfless or loving or caring or tender.
I never thought I would ever pray HIM for someone’s longevity. I never thought I would ever get out of my infatuation for jerks, I never thought I could live a life with one single man by my side forever.
I was never a traditional person; I did not like the marks of a woman, the black beads, the flowers, the sari, the jewellery.
I never thought I could give up my habits, my late night forages with my books, my quirky love for mushrooms, my tendency to remain un-bathed over a weekend, the dislike of cleanliness.
I never thought you would accept my friends, friends I had flirted with, friends I still flirt with, friends who call up at midnight, friends who have issues with pre-marital pregnancy, friends who get drunk and call me their girl even after I’m married, friends who call me when they have issues with their in-laws, friends who call because, they had nothing else to do, friends who call because they are in trouble, friends who forward their resumes, friends with whom I share intimate details, friends who butt in to give their opinions.
I never thought my brother could take someone’s side apart from my own, I never thought my brother could trust someone other than me, and do so, without me fearing for his trust; I never thought someone would call my mom as mother other than her own kids.
Even now, when I write of you, I write about myself. Unseen, unheard, you crept up into my life, and now I find flowers in the vase everyday, I see a smile wake me up with a kiss everyday, I see that I am, who I am now, all pretences are shed, I see someone can love my bad breath and my fat butt and my dirty ragged pajamas. I see us being a family now, I see the MY being replaced by you and your, and we and our, I see that my “I hate kids” is slowly transforming into “I want to have kids”, I see how it feels when you have someone to wipe your tears, rather either you having to wipe them, or having someone who will bring tears to your eyes.
Though you say it every morning, and you say it every night, and I know you mean it even when you say it and even when you don’t, for, your actions speak louder than words, for if isn’t love, what is it, when you call up once every half an hour to make sure I'm fine, when I’m chumming, when you sit through a really bad movie with a grin on your face & trying not to fall asleep, just because I'm so totally in love with the lead actor, when you try to pluck mint leaves for a gravy though you could not differentiate the stalk from the leaf, just so that I get work done sooner and have time to sit down and enjoy my tea, when you tiptoe into the room to allow me those few extra minutes of sleep, when you hold my hand and give me a kiss just so that I simmer down my famous ill tempered anger, when you listen to my irrational ranting about everything that’s wrong in the world, when you, with an amused smile, listen to my really strong and twisted opinions of so many things in life, when you ask me to sit down, and do the cleaning yourself on a weekend, because in your words “you need to take a break too”, when you patiently hear out my woes with my past ‘Ex’es, when you, along with me, have pani puri for dinner, though you MUST have rice to feel like you’ve eaten a meal… you don’t have to tell me that you love me, I know you do.
For a life gone by, I have but one regret; I came by your house, for more an a year, every single day, passed by it, waited in the cab for colleagues to get in, sometimes, got down from my cab and leaned on your gate. Could you, not, in one of all those days that made up that year, come out and fall in love with me? Why did you not meet me earlier? Why did you make me wade through all the wrong people in the world before we met?
Why did you not, bring out the best in me, earlier, like you do now? Why did you not make me feel a woman, all those days when I was a tomboy leaning over your gate, like you do now? Why did you not come by sooner, so that I understand what it means to say “I love you” and mean it and what it means to hear “I love you” and know that it is more than just a statement, that it is a promise, a commitment, a lifetime, a sense of togetherness, something that says that I will forgo my happiness to see you happy.
Dedicated to the one and only – hubby dearest
(to those who felt the post was too mushy, damn you. I am getting mushy these days, it’s the age and the marriage catching up … but don’t you worry you heartless readers, a really funny post is on its way … hmm, the mail man is late, where’s the post? (that was a PJ … laugh if you can) )