I’m still bathing in the afterglow of a memorable weekend spent in the company of dear friends and family, celebrating our marriage.  For me, it was a celebration of something much more precious – our relationship. After all, we’ve been best friends for twelve years and married for nine. So, what’s the big deal, many of you may wonder. It is a big deal to me. Especially in a world where more time is spent updating our Facebook status than working on real relationships. And especially in a world where having a huge number of Facebook ‘friends’ is more fashionable than ‘relationships’.

Why? Because any relationship worth its salt requires hard work. There are no shortcuts, no ‘buttons’ to click that will tell you what to do next, no three-minute guides to success. You got to figure it out for yourself and you’ve got to make it count.

So, when I look at us, I can’t help but feel a wee bit overwhelmed. Where did all the years go? The memories of our marriage day are still fresh. The smell of fresh earth after the rain (yes, the rain Gods had decided to shower us with blessings and I happily took it as an auspicious sign), of jasmine in my hair, my red sari that I wore in traditional Bengali style, my husband looking the quintessential Assamese in his creamy white pat (pronounced ‘paat’) silk dhoti-kurta; both of us equally nervous as we walked around the sacred pyre. I still remember staring deeply into the fierce flames, the priest’s chants a pleasant drone in the background when my husband gently slipped his hand in mine and held on tightly. I felt reassured; I was not alone in this.

And so the journey began. Nine years, and countless moments later, it has been quite a journey. Yes, we’ve had our moments. The bad, and the good. We’ve fought, we’ve raved and argued to the point of sheer exasperation (hmm, those are the times when I’ve actually forgotten why I loved the man in the first place!). In retrospect, none of it really mattered, except that we came back stronger maybe. What stayed were the good times; like the time we bought our house, or made our first documentary, or got that promotion, or even better, had our son.

For my part, I think some days we learned to just let go, and other days we learned to hold on.  Some days were spent in considerable silence, while others in pleasant, mindless chatter. There have been times when my husband has made me want to be a better person; and then, there have been times when I have just wanted to bang my head against the wall (or bang whatever I can get my hands on! )

What’s made this bittersweet journey possible is two things. One, the ability to constantly stimulate each other’s minds, our thoughts and feelings. Of late, it’s been uncanny how often we’ve been able to read each other’s minds…scary yes, but comforting nonetheless. Two, is my firm belief that after I’ve peeled away the layers, somewhere at the very core of our relationship is a simple, uncomplicated, honest-to-goodness friendship.  I try to never lose sight of that!

And till we have that, the journey ahead should be just as amazing.  I’ll toast to that!


6 thoughts on “The story of us…to be continued

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