Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

Dear H,

Happy Birthday!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This is probably one of those days that I ought to make super special. Not just because its your birthday, but because, we, together, turn two!!!

As much as our likes has brought us together, these past two years have shown us how diametrically opposite pairs we can be, at times. You are the one who cooks up surprises, sets up treasure hunts on my birthday and floors me with your gifts. I'm sorry to put you down, but I have no such sweet surprises or presents to offer you. I know its not fair, but in my own humble way, I wanted to write down how you have made these two years of my life simply splendid. You could use this testimonial to shut my mouth during our occasional tiffs. ;)

I could pull off this letter with preposterous words and phrases to describe how wonderful these 2 years have been, but no language is good enough to describe certain moments of your life, isn't it? So simpler, the better.

When people say 'better half', I used to think of it more as a metaphor. But I think it truly fits our relationship. You, with no ounce of doubt are indeed my 'better half'. You have been the one who has loved me more, motivated me, jumped with me during our happy times, lent me your (macho man) shoulders during our tough times, stood by me against everyone (and by that I mean, Everyone), laughed at my silly jokes and most of all, you are the one who has given in much more to our relationship than I have. Its because of you that our relationship is, and will always be so joyful. I maybe doing my part too, but when someone showers you with unconditional love, I'm always angry with myself for not doing that extra bit for you.

It would be an understatement to say that these couple of years have been the best ever. We have travelled a lot, cuddled and wasted days, watched plenty of movies (not upto your standards, but mine!), fought and made up. We have had our ups and down. You've been a boy during our playful times and a gentleman during the serious ones.

Your constant soliloquies about politics, celebrities, sports and the world have often bored me, but I must admit that I'm in awe with your knowledge. Though your elephantine memory cannot remember where in the house we keep our padlock keys or on what occasion you gifted me those crystal earrings, the diversity of information that your brain stores would definitely beat Seagate and Samsung's tetrabytes of memory.

Whenever I ask you if you love me more than you love your parents, your replies are almost instantaneous. Of course, you love me more. You have hardly ever asked me the same question. The once that you did and I swirled my eyes trying to avoid it, you didn't mind. Had you done that to me, I don't think I would have been so nice to you. I do not know how to explain this, but all I can say is, thank you, thank you for all your love.

I love the small things that make our life as good as it can be. The way your eyes sparkle after returning home from a day's long work. The way you tirelessly fulfill my appetite with curd rice and pickle. The way you discuss random stuff with me, things that I don't even give a damn about. The way you joke. The way you sit with me to plan our new home. The way you admit that you ran on the treadmill with your office shoes. The way you laugh with me after ridiculing yourself. The way you hug me and let me curl into the curves of your body. The way you make each day of my life every bit special, just by being there with me, for me.

These past two years of sharing my space, time, love and life with you has truly added meaning to the remaining 22 years that I have spent, without you.

Happy Birthday, once again, my darling.

Ms. Iyer in love.

It had been just one night that you were gone, but the gravity of the long wait ahead seemed to pull me so strongly. I hate the unfairness of the world – the whole idea of having to share you with so many other important people in (y)our life. I am assured that you are just mine, only mine. But it still irks me to part with you, however short the time may be. You were just a couple of hours from leaving, but I was missing you loads already. Or even more, the mere thought of you going away for a short while has been bothering me for the past one week so much so that I was so calculative about every minute I got to spend with you before you were to leave.

The day you were to leave, I was travelling back home from work. A Friday. But it didn’t seem like one at all. There wasn’t going to be that Saturday morning, when I would be all dressed and ready with a hot mug of tea, eagerly waiting for the door bell to ring. There wasn’t going to be that lazy afternoon with just you and me. There wasn’t going to be any of your random babbles to tickle my funny bone. There wasn’t going to be any of your laughter that would lighten up the little world around me. There wasn’t going to be our evening walk after dinner, hand-in-hand, with one ice-cream to share. There wasn’t going to be that sole feeling of happiness which would envelop me during your presence. There wasn’t going to be a you with me to make me forget everything else in this world.

Your absence seemed to have taken away the colours and excitement of a Friday evening. The whole world seemed to radiate an unusual and uncomfortable boredom. I felt numb and lifeless. It was like the emotions J.K. Rowling describes of dementors. I felt like being sucked out of all the happiness by some invisible force. It left me with a deep-rooted feeling of loneliness – a loneliness which made me realize that I was missing you more than I ever thought was possible. A separation that made me realize how much more I love you than I thought or expressed.

With my ipod playing “Aaoge jab tum saajana”, I took each one of those uninterested slow steps home. Tears bloomed in my eyes, as if the song had just given them the license to spill out of their trap hole. I walked with my head down, badly wishing that the evening sun would dry my tears before it set.

I am missing you a lot honey.

Locking hands, we walked out into the open backyard of the plaza that looks into the sea beyond. It’s our favourite spot. Favourite because this is that one place that has seen us together more often than any other in this rather small city.

Just when we were a few feet from stepping into the open, we realized it was raining. Hard luck. We walked back in and found a seat in one of those mall’s fancy-yet-not-so-comfortable benches. As soon as we sat down, he took out the aloo bhujia packet from his bag (about which he had been ranting since the morning) and opened it. He offered it to me first (as usual), his eyes still on the open mouth-watering packet.

I especially loved the look of his eyes then. They gleamed with excitement and anticipation - like that of a little kid irresistibly holding on to a bar of chocolate which is not to be eaten till he gets home. Just imagine the poor kid looking restlessly at the bar every other minute or at times trying to make a small hole with his index finger so that he can just manage to get one small bite, or at most, lick it! It gets all the more frustrating for the kid when he has to offer that valuably held chocolate to his brother before he takes a bite himself. It’s the very same look that reflected in his eyes.

For a minute, I felt as though I were looking into my future son.

Our son.

I smiled. I didn’t describe to him about how I felt. Else, he would think that I were teasing him and give me that ‘droopy’ dog face which would embarrass the hell out of me in that busy mall. Instead I said, ‘You look so cute!’ and kissed him gently.

We spoke of the day’s happenings, most of the talking done by me than him! It was my turn and if I missed it, he would snatch it away to talk about Google’s new browser, the latest Samsung mobile, his utterly noisy and irritating colleague or even worse, the yet-to-be-released horror movie. Not that I’m not interested, but when a girl has something waiting to be told, it’s too hard to get her to concentrate on such ‘trivial’ things!

So the talk went on and on and I took a quick glance at my watch. It read 8.40pm. I realized something and asked him, “Do you know what day it is today?”

“3^rd of September. This time, exactly a year ago, I was taking off in the flight only to leave you behind with teary eyes which refused to dry.” He replied, as if reading off what ran in my head, through my eyes.

“Yup. Such a horrid day it was! But, one year from then, life seems definitely better!” I sighed.

“I told you to watch out for the same day a year later. Didn’t I Babydoll?” He said, closing in on me for a hug.

“Yeah Yeah!” I said shyly.

I had trusted in him. But the incurable pessimist in me didn’t build up much hope.

“Can’t you just come for 5 minutes?” I would ask him over one of those phone calls that went over the roof. The pain of separation had already made me void of any practicality.

“If I could, I wouldn’t be oceans away, listening to you cry honey.” He would reply, never tired of repeating those lines.

He came back sooner than he had promised.

That day, in the airport, I remember holding his arm really tight and telling him, “This time, am not letting you go. No matter what.”

We stood up to leave the mall. I walked alongside him, hugging his arm tighter than usual. He gently stroked my cheek in response.

I knew he heard my silence.

-Ms. Iyer in love