#171 …when you imagine enjoying raising your children together.

We had been chatting nonchalantly for a while. It was only our second meet. Aman had invited me over for dinner when we first met at a common friend’s party. Since we had gelled along well in the short time, it seemed a nice idea to take the friendship ahead. He wasn’t surprised when I accepted. Now, sitting here on deer spotted bean bags in his 30*10 modernly furnished living room on the 25^th floor of his apartment, beside the wall to wall window facing the Arabian Sea, the idea seemed a little awkward. He was too friendly and I was too relenting. There was something going between us which I was unable to read. As I sat looking outside the window, I noticed a puppy straying aimlessly.
“Hey look. He’s so cute. Seems to have separated from his family.” I said.
“I’ll be right back,” he said as he rushed to the door and outside. I went back to looking at the pup. After a minute, I lost track of it and got up to look around his place. A whimping sound made me turn back. Aman was back with the pup. I ran to take it from his arms. As I caressed it, a thought crossed my mind.

“We’ll call him Softy,” I announced.
“We! I like it.” He said in a voice softer than a whisper. I was too engrossed in Softy to notice his intent.
“I don’t like the divided attention. I shouldn’t have brought the pup here.” Aman said complainingly.
“Ah! You are jealous,” I said moving to the kitchen to find something for Softy to eat. “What will happen when there’ll be kids?” I added handing Softy to him.
“Kids?” he asked.
“Yes, kids,” I said taking milk out from the refrigerator and pouring it in a flat wide bowl. “I’ll have no time for you then. We’ll divide our duties and take them out every weekend.” Taking the pup from him, I placed the bowl on the dining table and let Softy at it. Once the pup started slurping, I looked back at Aman satisfactorily.
He bore a mischievous smile on his face.  
Then I realized what I had just said. I was pale with embarrasement.

#170 …when you feel overcome and giddy.

It is like she has got some supernatural power. Some magical wand that she touches me with to make me do what she wants. I always feel so overcome in her presence, so mushy, so giddy and it’s beyond my control. My heart starts singing and I have to literally shut my mouth not to make a fool of myself. And it’s only in her presence or when her thoughts have taken the centre stage that this happens. I can run from her but not hide. What is it? Why am I so not myself?

#169 …when she will cook and dress up for you.

“But why do you want to cook?” I asked Darshana following her to the kitchen.

“Because I feel like,” she said opening the drawer to take the pan out.

Though it was like a wonder to see her enter kitchen for cooking rather than eating, I decided not to kill her enthusiasm and help her instead. Once we had finished, she went to her room to change, for her dress had stains all over proving our inefficiency at the art. After half an hour when she didn’t emerge, I banged on her door.

“I am dying of hunger. If you do not come out now, I’ll treat myself alone.”

“Do not,” she said opening the door in a hurry and running to the kitchen. I saw she was dressed for outdoors.

“Are you going out somewhere?” I asked taking a note of her strange behaviours.

“Got to meet a friend,” she said pouring the pasta in a casserole.
“Who are you taking this for?” I eyed her suspiciously.
“For my friend. Since I am late, I’ll share my meal with her. Have left some for you.”
I could smell something was fishy about the whole affair – first the way she was interested in cooking and secondly the way she had meticulously dressed. I let her go without further questioning. After a few minutes I heard a message beep. I checked my mobile. It wasn’t mine. I looked for the other mobile. There it was, on the dining table. Darshana had forgotten her mobile in her hurry. Once I clicked on it, the entire story behind her cooking and dressing up was crystal clear.
The sender was some RAJ – Hi baby. I am dying to see you. come soon. waiting eagerly for your hand cooked pasta.  

#168 …when your heart races every time he calls.

It was a matter of delight to see an instrument as small as my palm and as cheap as a dinner for two at a decent restaurant make her heart wriggle. We had been chatting casually over a hot cup of tea on her terrace, when music began playing. Before I could guess where the sound oozed from, Vini handed me her cup to hold and reached for her pocket. As she withdrew her hand, the sound grew stronger. When she finally looked at the mobile screen, there was a wide smile on her face accompanying the nervousness from realizing who the caller was. The song continued.

“Why don’t you receive the call?” I asked.

“I am trying to calm my heart, its racing at a speed of 100km/hr,” she said putting one hand to her heart.

When I gave a puzzled look, she gestured me to keep quiet and received the call. After a minute she hung up and slipped the mobile back in her pocket. Taking the teacup back from my hand, she said, “I don’t know why this happens but everytime Soham calls up, my palm starts sweating and my heart starts thumping.”

“Stop fooling me. As if I am not aware of your feelings for him.” I said bringing the teacup to my lips for the last sip.

#167 …when you know how the other person feels about almost everything.

Its been 37 years now. Since they got married. But I doubt they have ever professed their love for each other. Does that mean they don’t love each other? Then how have millions of marriages survived from the past generation. Almost all weddings in most families were once decided by the elders and the concept of courtship was unknown. Most of them first met their life partner on their wedding day, only few having the chance to meet up once before or exchange photographs away from the prying eyes of the elders. Once into the relationship, they followed their moral duties to the hilt and never expected anything. When I saw the same in my household, I was aghast. Belonging to the Gen-X, I was unable to understand the love behind it until Mom explained.

“We don’t ask for things or express our feelings because we don’t need to,” she said.

“But why not?” I was still confused.

“Because we get to know every feeling that the other has, every moment that we have them.”

I instantly thought of the times when Mom would take one look at Dad and say “he’s not in the right mood, don’t seek permission now” or when Dad would suddenly ask me to go and help mom in the kitchen and I would find her drowsy with tiredness or when they both would be sitting quietly in front of TV but still enjoying a bliss I was unaware of. The list may be endless but the conclusion is simple and all-encompassing.