With every passing year, the memories seem to acquire a sepia toned feel to it. Early on in my marriage I used to relish recounting how K came to “see” me. What we talked about, how we decided to go ahead to commit to waking up to each other for the rest of our lives. I enjoyed reliving the weekend before our actual engagement ceremony. K and I spent five hours in the terrace of the ISKCON temple in Yeshwantpur talking about everything that we needed to let the other person know. I was struck by how straightforward he came across as. I wondered how some one who had spent so much time away from India could be so down to earth. (In my mind NRIs were fancy people who dressed fashionably and spoke in accented English.)
Fast forward a week, we spent the weekend after our engagement eating out, watching movies on an impulse and cherishing the few hours left before he would fly back to Philly. Green as we were, the boldest thing we did was to hold hands. We went for a walk along the beach and enjoyed the breeze and the conversation. When a little boy stopped us and entreated us to buy flowers K was amused and he gave in. What took the cake was that he insisted on pinning it to my then long hair himself. It is one of those memories I cherish. The one that drove home the point that I was his. Irrevocably.
Seven years later, many such endearing moments later, I have no doubt in my mind that K is the best thing that could have ever happened to me. It’s not like we do not have our tiffs. What is important is that we have learned to agree to disagree. We end the day putting the disagreements behind us. For that I am grateful. And happy like never before.
So, here’s to K. I look forward to many such anniversaries. To many such trips down memory lane. You are my hero!
Happy Seventh Anniversary!!!
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