…and you could surprise yourself with what you can do.
We had a lot in common. I liked her and she liked me. Period.
And that was exactly 1 year ago.
Life is what happens when you are too busy planning for it.
It was an existence. Living in the white pages of a book that I was trying to write for myself. Or so I thought. It was not bad, mind you. But on hindsight, it was the kind of numb comfort that I was in where the scars were blunted and happiness was muted. It was existence at it’s purest form.
It was just not life. As I had seen it, wanted it, and was planning for it. What I knew, but did not count in was that life, rarely, happens by your will and control. It is simple really. Everything happens for you. Not to you. It happens at the right moment – not too soon, not too late.
We just do not see it that way. Rather, we do not want to see it that way.
Around 4 years ago, something happened for me. At that point, it seemed like the worst thing ever. I felt like I was the phoenix, who had to rise from the ashes and reclaim what I was. Yeah, pretty dramatic stuff.
And exactly a year ago, something happened for me again. A year later, I now connect the dots.
Everything happens for a reason. And the reason happened on 15th February, 2013. I still do not know how and why I came across her and felt I could talk to her. Out of possibly scores of others. And she was there on the page, at the bottom scrolling to the left as an afterthought, when my eyes fell upon her visage. A smile that seemed natural and bright even under the glare of artificial lights. Eyes twinkling with a hope and expectation for a chirpy, enthused life, that is so becoming of her.
Was it chance, coincidence, or purely the hand of fate? I am yet to figure it out.
I am not the usual melodramatic sentimental chap; at least, I’d like to think so. But I still remember the 1-1.5 hours I spent listening to her, talking to her. She seemed unsure, nervous. But little did she know that I was more nervous than her. It felt like I had been a castaway surviving in the seas away from civilization for ages. And now, here I was suddenly thrown among mankind (or womankind, in this case) and I had to learn to talk. Like it was normal for me. For most of us, confidence is not a state of being. It is a state of mind that you constantly work at; very often it seems like a facade, but one that you love having on you as a cloak. That you are always trying to drape on.
She: I still remember that day, when you seemed so shy. and vulnerable.
Me: Was I? No, I was a little nervous. But I think I was quite confident too.
She: Ok, baby. You were confident :).
Little did she know then, that it was the cloak working. Overtime. And in spite of that, she knows and I know till date, that I was the one who was shy and vulnerable. Even 12 months later. And this is what defines this marriage for me. Where she seems to see through me, and accepts me for who I am. And loves me for who I am.
We got married in May of last year; but I still cherish the first day we met. On 15th February – our Valentine’s Day. And started the marathon that is, of our marriage.
It was not too tough for me to think of how I wanted to celebrate it. Teddy bears, chocolates, gifts – these were mundane. I did for her today what I like doing the most. Run. For her.
12 Kms to celebrate the 12 months that I have known her, loved her, fought with her, made up with her and that which made me realize that this is what I was waiting for. All my life.
As with all things in life, this too did not go as planned. But you do not stop, do you? You carry on through all the sweat and smiles.
This was my planned run – I charted out a route that spelled I LOVE U in 12 Kms. It was tough, mind you. With all the permutations, combinations, etc. I even took a print out and carried it during my run. It was a new route, in a location I was not familiar with, and I had planned to do this early in the morning when it was dark, and I could be running blind in alleys without street lights.
Pretty stupid. But hey, love is blind. And makes one stupid, right?
And this was my actual run. I got lost in the dark, got chased by a dog, ran on roads back and forth thinking I was on track, got exhausted, ran, walked and ran again. This 1 year has been a roller-coaster ride for me. But I always knew I could get back to the warm comfort of my wife’s indulging smile. And in many ways this run eventually symbolized that for me.
I had never planned for this. But if you put your heart into your run, you would be surprised with the results. I could still chart out I LOVE U, in 12 Kms.
Yeah, I am not melodramatic.
Here’s to you wifey. For a lifetime of togetherness. And for a marathon marriage that goes on and on. Happy Valentine’s Day.