Tag Archives: love story

Signed & Sealed

The Mister, , , ,

Public Service Announcement : If you are not so into long winded ranting and are looking to read something related to the title, please proceed to Paragraph 8 onwards.

I think I’m a genius for getting us this gift feat. ROM flowers.

Almost exactly a year ago, we had the date set for our wedding. It felt as if this auspicious date, given by a prominent priest from India, was tattooed in my mind and heart. 5th December 2020 – a just-nice date to still meet Vision 2020 which used to be an inside joke on our wedding deadline.

Like a true millennial bride-to-be, I was on the most reliable wedding research platform (God bless Instagram!). Our family and friends were eagerly on board the wedding planning. I must say we were extra efficient.

Circa mid-February, we had all the booking done – the hall, make up artists, caterers, decoration, flight tickets for shopping in India and 10-day itinerary for the honeymoon of my dreams in Land of Pasta with a detour to feed the Red Devils in us. I had my first choice of all vendors, and I was a happy girl.

It all came crashing down with the big C, least did we expect it. Then, around end of September, when MCO ended, there were glimmers of hope. In that time of sunshine and all season of glass-half-full, we shopped for wedding attires, with The Mister on video call. And then, it was again a downhill ride with CMCO announcement, which was to last until a day after THE day.

My emotions were haywire, one moment I was indifferent, and in another I was crushed. It was nothing short of roller coaster in a haunted house, with work partially burying me alive one side. The Mister was supposed to be back in the country from the land of bland food, and a whole lot of background work that had to go with that with quarantine and what not.

One day, we had a family meeting on WhatsApp, and both set of parents echoed the same thought – that we should have something on the supposed wedding date. We decided to go ahead with Registration of Marriage.

My super efficient father managed to find a registrar of marriage and venue. I picked out one of my sarees gifted by MIL for a pre-wedding ritual. The Mister arrived a week before, with pink bracelet on his hand. We shopped for his clothes after he was a free elf. My sister got the cake, my SIL helped with my accessories. Our go-to Jobest Studio spared us a cameraman in the eleventh & half hour. Everything was last minute, and I barely had time to stop and reflect.

Our ROM happened in a small hall, in presence of our closest family members (unfortunately, many missing with the Big C curse). It was not AT ALL like what we had in mind. The registrar made The Mister propose to me (I’m pretty sure his voice choked) and pose for awkward pictures, with the crowd watching. As it is, The Mister and I are always in the running for The Most Socially Awkward Duo award, and you can only underestimate how we grinned the whole time.

We cringed watching videos from the day. Despite it all, I would not have it otherwise. Our parents, siblings and loved ones were all smiles. I can’t pinpoint a favourite moment from the day. Whether it was receiving the hand bouquet which The Mister picked for me (my favourite thus far!), our ride in the car after the ROM to lunch reception at Taj Garden (yummmm food!) or when the registrar told us to be best friends and crowd murmured ‘They are!’ – it all still makes me giddy (like girly, giggly giddy).

It does not matter that it wasn’t a 1000 pax affair, with grandeur. I got married to my best friend. After 2221 days of being my boyfriend, The Mister is legally my former boyfriend, now husband.

Signed and sealed, for a lifetime of quirky games, inside jokes, petty fights, gossiping, TLC and being us.

Signed & Sealed #SarVishForThara

For memory record sake : This was blogged from The Mister’s gift to me on our ROM, after a grilled salmon with asparagus dinner, while The Mister is losing a FIFA21 game on his PS4.

[4/30] How I Met Sorru

Microblog, , ,

I think it was a Wednesday, which in UTP, translates to lecture-free second half of the day. I was sitting in Tudung Saji Café, my usual spot by the beam. I was probably doing some assignment or reading as I heard loud chatters approaching me. Someone asked me if I was going for the replacement class, I would’ve nodded, while mentally rolling my eyes. They were all headed to Chancellor Hall, to watch some debate competition, in a large noisy group. I was supposed to collect their quiz papers from class. I mentally mocked them. One of them, a tall boy wearing spectacles, muttered something. They conveniently decided to pass me a bag (one that they give out during orientation) and told me that one of their friends would come get it. I mocked them mentally, again, with a smile on my face. Who even writes their name on their bag with a correction liquid? Owner of the ridiculously tarnished bag came to collect his bag, grinningly.

I went to class that afternoon and collected every quiz paper with an Indian name. I only knew 2-3 of them. After an hour of class, I went back to Tudung Saji. Sometime later, they returned too. This was my opportunity to match names with faces, and possibly intelligence. In coming weeks after that, I made friends with them and was soon part of the big, noisy bunch.

That boy who passed me his friend’s bag always commented on my Facebook posts, texted me, always asked me out for movies and later settled for a KFC lunch circa July 2011. He drove me around, packed suppers and asked me answers for assignments.

Years passed. On a rainy night, I came back to my room exhausted after long hours in IRC. I opened my ‘unofficial email’ which I had only used for my BlogSpot account at that time. First sentence said, ‘I know you won’t see this email for some time’. As I read the email, I knew. I was in love with the boy who wrote me an email with grammatical errors. So, friends, this is how I met and later fell in love with Sarvish.

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Earliest snap I have of us, taken in 2011 @ Tudung Saji Cafe

Disclaimer: I have the tendency of reconstructing memories to my preferences, but I also have the gift of vivid memory for minute details.

Note : This blog post is part of my 30 Days Microblog Challenge which I began in September 2018. To read more from this series, you can select ‘Microblog’ under Category. Or, search for #therainbowhatmicroblogs on Instagram. 🙂 Topics for this series are a mix of my own brainchild and prompts from my Insta-friends.