Once upon a time, there
was a shy fourteen year old girl who caught the eye of an eighteen year old
boy. Not being much of a talker, he penned down a few innocuous lines about her
in his diary, thinking that it would be absolutely private. As is the way of
diaries, it was ‘discovered’; and so were his thoughts. He was soundly rebuked
and chastised by his scandalized family for daring to write so boldly – what will people think?!? what will people say!?!. He learned an important lesson. He never kept a diary ever again. The young girl went on her way in blissful ignorance of having caused any kind of commotion. The End.
No, just kidding. Our
story continues...
Fast forward a few
years. The boy and the girl may have occasionally run into each other at some
gathering or the other, but nothing came of it. Their lives continued their
separate paths for almost ten years. Our boy, now a young man, had graduated
from college and was an electrical engineer. A few months into his first job,
he suffered a terrible accident while working. His right hand was severely
burned and scarred. He was lucky to escape with his life. And the trauma of what
had happened continued to haunt him.
Always quiet, he
withdrew even further into himself. A few years later, the elders in the family
began to talk of his marriage. He was not the least interested. But look, this
was an Indian family. Lack of interest on young people’s part has never been
much of a deterrent to the elders who enthusiastically proceed like juggernauts
to do what must be done. He insisted that any girl he married must first be
told of his accident and his ‘maimed’ hand.
The older people had
perhaps not forgotten the young girl he had written about in his diary all
those years ago. So, when they cast the bridal net, they were quite happy that
she was the one they snagged. The young man, suspicious that his well-meaning family
had concealed the details of his accident made sure that the young woman was
made aware of it. On their first formal meet, when she came out to see him, he
made it a point to be reading a newspaper, his face obscured, but his hands clearly visible. As the young
woman was not a stranger, she was already aware of what had happened to him.
But she took notice of what he was trying to convey, and it didn’t make any
difference to her. They got married and lived happily ever after.
Not quite. This is a
real story, not a fictional one. So, let’s amend that shall we? Rewind.
They got married. They
lived a life that was real – they shared ups and downs, good and bad, the hurts
and the forgiveness, two children, four grandsons, an extended family, a big
circle of friends and acquaintances… The young man succeeded in his chosen field,
the young woman continued exploring her faith and her many talents. They traveled all over the world, and were never apart if they could help it. He adored her; she worshiped the ground he walked on. However, they
didn’t live their life unscathed. There was ill health, there were
life-threatening conditions, there were moments when they thought their story
had come to a close. But Grace held their heads above the stormy waves of life,
and the One who brought them together continues to keep them together – fifty years
to the day. May their saga continue to unfold for many more years to come.
Disclaimer:
The hero and heroine of this story shall remain unidentified, as they are very retiring,
low-profile people who dislike attention. I shall respect that.
By the way, Appa and
Amma, happy Golden Anniversary, my darlings!
