Love—it changed me, rationalized my thoughts, introduced me to a new perspective, injected confidence, and taught me the act of giving. Yes, it was happening, happening to me. I grew up watching Indian cinema, where the hero and the heroine chased each other in the garden singing romantic songs, the heroine blushed at the very sight of the hero, their parents detest the marriage, and toward the end, the lovers win over their family and finally tie the knot. This common plot in the movies always made me wonder if this would happen to me. There began the hunt for my perfect hero: intelligent, smart, humorous, adorable, respectful, and independent; just like the hero in the movies. My hunt ended when I finally did meet this hero of my life!
Just like in the movies, we had differences. Not differences in our relationship, but the differences spotted by our families. Bridging the gap seemed next to impossible. We somehow had to persuade them. But how? Days went by, our love grew deeper and we knew it was meant to happen. Just like every love story, we enjoyed the very presence of each other, went for long drives, laughed for hours together, and dreamed of a future together, a future of togetherness and never-ending romance.
Gazing back at those good old days when we first met, my attention drew toward my diary, and I switched on the rewind mode.
May 4: Episode 1
It was that time of the day again, when I had to drag myself out of the bed. Wondering why snoozing the alarm always gave us the orgasmic pleasure; I stood still staring outside the window. It was mid-week already. One and half years of my working life was already over. Am I getting old? Where would I be in next ten years down the working lane? Am I going to get married this year? Would I be traveling? Boy! A series of questions knocked my head desperately looking for answers, but I’d rather avoid and start getting ready as I had not much time before I call myself late to work.
