So after quite a long time here comes the second post of the Guest Blogging Season. And I am so so so happie to have this wedding gift from the Beautiful Story Teller....Miss. Priyanka Victor. Go check out her blog : Confessions of the Chocolate Obsessed. Her stories are just like the Chocolate...once you taste them...you fall in love with them...
So be prepared to fall in love with her beautiful words...
Here's the beautiful love story from the Chocolate Obsessed Lady....
JUST ANOTHER LOVE STORY….
Don’t expect any fireworks or twists, because they aren’t any. Sometimes, life is beautiful enough that way.
Love stories are splendid. They make us believe in the good things, they make us laugh and cry at the same time. But most of all they give us hope.
Some love stories are like rainbows in the sky, like shooting stars, like a brilliant burst of fireworks in the black night. There is instant attraction, fabulous dates, syncing of the souls, amazing discoveries about each other, mind-blowing sex, a perfect proposal, parties, champagne, laughter, penthouses, a honeymoon in Italy, perfect children and careers and a dog and happily ever after.
And some love stories are just demure, flowers-on-the-wall. There is just a bond. A bond that is quiet, staid and simple. A bond that goes unnoticed except by the closest and deemed inconsequential by all those who don’t understand it.One single bond, as pure as the Heavens above and strong enough to withstand seven births & deaths and everything in between.
One such love story, I have been lucky to witness. Its end, I know not, I can only hope for. But I consider myself lucky to have been an admiring bystander. The experience has but humbled me.
They hated each other with all the fierceness of thirteen year olds. He was an arrogant pig and she was a Ms. Know-It-All. He took vicarious pleasure in making her look like a fool and she reveled in being the biggest supporter of all his enemies.
He considered her unlucky, so he made it a point to not look at her before his cricket matches while she exulted when his team lost anyway. He hated that she scored more than him in English and she hated it that he beat her in Math all the time. It was bad enough that he was her mother’s favorite student.
They grew up and nothing changed; they still couldn’t stand the sight of each other though they tried hard to be a little more civil.
But the first time he saw his rival’s performance on stage, (note: the change from nemesis to rival) his rivalry turned into grudging respect.
He had no time for classical nonsense, much less for the more intricate Mohiniyattam. But her deft footwork, the magnificence of her expressions, the sheer splendor of her being in complete tandem with the music left his gaping, mouth open. He hastily closed it before anyone noticed. He’d have sworn that she was sakshaath Devi herself, she was THAT good.
He tentatively went up to her the next day and congratulated her, she turned her nose up in animosity and walked away without a word. He took some time to get over why the rejection struck somewhere soft.
She sat there, listening to the teacher’s voice drone on but not hearing anything. All she could think about was that frisson of pleasure that had shot through her when he’d talked to her. She congratulated herself on holding it together. If he ever found out that she’d been crushing on him for almost a year now, he’d never let hear the end of it.
They went back to denying each other’s existence.
He watched her when she wasn’t looking, thoughtfully trying to pin-point what it was about her that was making him feel very mixed up. She was so snooty.
She found herself praying that he’d get picked for the school team. She didn’t know what had changed for her. Nor when. He was such a boy.
He took in the eyes that laughed even when the face was serious, the waist length luxurious hair and the cute button nose that turned red when she was angry.
She dreamt of the tall, dark and handsome bowler who had come to her home and appreciated her efforts at the onasadya.
Do you need me to tell you that they fell in love?
Yes, they did.
And never told each other.The jackasses. I shudder to think of what would have happened if she hadn’t taken the bull by the horns.Anyway…
Harek friend zaroorihotahai, na? Yeah. Thank the Sweet Lord for friends who Spyed on his mooning looks at her and made no bones to ‘keep the secret’. The haha part (at least for her) is that, nobody (till date) knows about her crush.
They told her. She refused to believe. They told her again. She wondered. They told her yet again.
She wasn’t the type to let things hang in the air, so she took the rhetoric bull by its evading horns and asked him not ready for the surprise that hit her when he acquiesced. He proposed saying he had no intention to until he’d gotten a job. She was left gasping.
To cut a long story of fights, confusions and nights of sweet torture of indecision, she said yes and they lived contentedly ever after.
The beauty of the story is that their love is so strong that it makes me wonder what games I will keep their children occupied with when they come over and what I should wear for their 70th anniversary. They hardly ever meet, hardly. And while I’m sitting here wondering how they even make it work long-distance, she’s happily squirreling away nuggets to tell him when they talk at night.
They live 9 hours from each other and she still knows where he is all the time and what he ate the previous day while he knows what she dreamt of and how her day was. They fit each other like two pieces of the same puzzle.
I don’t envy them. I awe them. For being a real couple.For respecting the word love. For actually meaning so much to each other that in their world they are already husband and wife.
And I’m honored I’m a witness.