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Making Memories

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Sadi Ranson-Polizzotti’s post Paris Visa : Falling in Love on Blogcritics.org made me wonder whether Aaman and I would have gotten together ten years ago while we were both college goers. Probably not; he was into girls who topped the class and I was into booze, ciggies and feminism.

I’m not even sure we would have acknowledged each other if we had been in the same class.

Aaman had a steady girlfriend back then – a nice enough girl with a competitive streak who had friends that burnt the midnight oil studying as opposed to me who spent her nights throwing up or holding her girlfriends while they threw up.

Our worlds were totally different. He went to pubs and I danced at nightclubs; he had fights with his girlfriend and I preferred to have heartbreaks without the break ups.

Who would have thought that ten years later I’d find myself falling in love in with him over a cup of tea in a run down coffee shop called Flury’s in Calcutta.

We had so much in common and yet were so different. Aaman was a quizmaster who spent his Sunday lunchs debating with journalists and I was a high strung party girl who spent Sunday snoozing in her messy bed.

Yet, when we finally got to meet sparks flew- we loved books, dogs, had the same taste in music and shared a common tragedy.

Aaman had lost his mother to cancer and I lost my father a year later. We had been jolted out of our comfort zones. He had a grieving father to take care of and I had a devastated mother and a younger sister to emotionally support.

After my father’s death my partying days had come to a standstill; I spent quiet nights at home with my mother and sister and taught first graders during the day.

Aaman’s life however had become tumultuous. His father fell prey to cancer and suffered from manic depression.

While I picked up the pieces of my life and sobered down, Aaman began to have a wild time.

I began to think about having the one meaningful relationship; he on the other hand started dating the wrong sort of women.

I was balancing my cheque book; he was emptying his bank account.

We were viewing the world from different spectrums but we wanted the same thing –stability.

Our one and only blind date turned into a marriage proposal and the rest was history.

This April it will be five years to our marriage and yet it feels like yesterday when he put his hand over my head while we were getting married and made a solemn vow to protect me as his wife.

Today, we seem to be evolving at the same pace, we have same likes and dislikes and better still we seem to think along the same lines.

We are happy together but looking back I do wonder would we have hit it off ten years ago as we do know?

Somehow I’m not too sure but I’m glad that we met ten years hence.

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About Deepti Lamba

  • Shark

    awwwww… nice…

    And your essay only confirms my impressions of the both of ya. (I didn’t know yall were a dyad!)

    Congrats on finding each other. Yer both keepers in my book.

  • I married my wife two weeks after I met her…this august…23 years!

  • Thanks Shark, the tip- ‘before marriage keep both eyes open and after shut one’has held us in good stead 🙂

    Andy, twenty three years may seem like a long time but I bet it must seem like yestersday when you met your wife for the first time.

  • some days it seems like yesterday…some days it seems like 100 years!

  • Very nice.

    I’ve have a few friends who dated, split and then met several years later and hit if off. One or both had changed, become more mature and the result was marriage.

    It’s always interesting to see how two people who were different early on, ended up compatible and together. That must have been one heck of a blind date!

  • Heh, Some blind dates are fun, and have benefits

    My kiss-all-tell-all may never be told, and if it were, would rival Proust

    It’s been a great five years, better than any one could have imagined, were things otherwise.


  • Shark

    Aaman: “My kiss-all-tell-all may never be told, and if it were, would rival Proust…”

    …So it would take you 45 pages to say you leaned over and looked into her eyes?