Tag: Togetherness

Joy in my heart…

Joy in my heart…

My heart brims with joy as I fly down to my daughter’s home in Bangalore.

Joy in the happiness that will light up baby Arham’s face when he sees me.

Joy in our love as he wraps his thin arms around my neck in a tight hug.

Joy in his delight as I feed him small bites of chocolate pancakes.

Joy in our camaraderie as I sip my tea and he drinks his from a tiny cup.

Joy in the fun when we dig out dinosaurs and rocks from his sand pit.

Joy in his wonder as I act out the stories I’ve written for him.

Joy in my chats with Tanvi as we catch up on everything and nothing.

Joy in the conversations with Garvit as he explains the latest AI innovations to me.

And the deepest joy of all—witnessing the beautiful harmony of my daughter and her family.

LOVE… What is Love, really?

LOVE… What is Love, really?

Valentine’s Day arrives, and love steps into the spotlight. Everything – yes, everything -from balloons and chocolates to cupcakes and even pizza, is suddenly heart-shaped. And for one full day (at least), love feels magical.

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This year, like every year, Valentine’s Day left me grappling with the eternal question: What is love, really? Is it a sudden jolt, like lightning out of a clear sky, which leaves you breathless, dizzy, and utterly bewitched?

And then I wonder: Did I ever fall in love?

I’ve been married for 35 years to a man my parents introduced me to. Before I even saw him, I heard his voice – deep, confident, reassuring. Our first meeting was a blur of conversation; we talked nonstop, swapping stories, dreams, and laughter. One meeting became two, then three, families gathered, wedding plans took shape, and just like that, we were married. Decades later, here we are – still together, still devoted, still finding joy in everything we share (touchwood!).

Our children, though, “fell” in love in the classic sense, full of drama, excitement, and movie-type romance. When they describe love, it sounds like fireworks and magic – something grand and dizzying. And I can’t help wondering: What makes their love different from ours?

Sure, in our case, there was no chase, no drama, no stolen glances across crowded rooms. No love-struck confessions, no candlelit dinners, no carefully planned surprises or perfectly chosen gifts. But then, we dated with the quiet confidence of commitment. And like any young couple, we looked forward to being together, savoring every moment, counting down the days until marriage would seal our togetherness.

So maybe the real question isn’t What is love? but rather Why do we believe it only counts when it comes with fireworks?

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After thinking it through for many, many years, I have come to the conclusion: It is not about falling in love – it is about being in love.

So what if our relationship began with mutual respect, appreciation, and commitment instead of a whirlwind romance? So what if it was a path of discovery, deepening over time through shared experiences? So what if it started with uncertainty and blossomed into something steady and enduring?

Arranged or not, love has a way of finding you. It sneaks up quietly, weaving itself through the fabric of everyday life – shared cups of tea at dawn, laughter over dinner, the chaos of raising children, and the resilience through life’s storms. It doesn’t arrive with grand gestures but settles in through small, unremarkable acts of kindness, patience, and unwavering warmth – until one day, you realize those ordinary moments are everything. Love isn’t just a feeling; it’s a sense of home – not in a place, but in a person. And it is in the years after marriage that love truly comes into its own, evolving into something deeper, something real.

For my husband and me, love has been a journey – one that, decades later, has brought us to a place where words are often unnecessary. It’s the quiet accumulation of a thousand little moments that, together, create something profound. It’s knowing each other’s quirks and embracing them, arguing without truly wounding, forgiving without keeping score.

It’s waking up every morning and instinctively reaching for his hand. It’s sharing inside jokes no one else would understand, reminiscing about past adventures while mapping out new ones, sitting through his favorite shows even when I can’t stand them. It’s reading in the same room in comfortable silence. It’s letting him have the last bite of dessert because I know he wants it but will still leave it for me.

In the end, it doesn’t matter how love begins—what matters is how it grows. It’s simply knowing, deep down, that life makes more sense with the other person in it.

*

So no, I didn’t fall in love in a grand, dramatic way – but love found me anyway, quietly and steadily, like sunlight creeping into a room, soft and unassuming, until one day I looked around and realized everything was glowing.

And after 35 years, that feels more romantic than anything else.

The Day we became a TEAM!

The Day we became a TEAM!

I could hardly wait for my last exam of class VI to get over… I was so excited. Tomorrow, we – my mom, my dad and my brother Sumeet – would leave for Nasik for two whole months! What fun! Papa would be starting a book, a thesaurus, whatever, I didn’t understand much. We children would have a lovely time living in the Times of India’s bungalow there – cycling, playing badminton, eating, and sleeping in huge four poster beds!

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Early one morning in Nasik, the four of us made our way to the Godavari river. I slipped my hand into my mom’s as we waded in… For a long moment, the four of us stood there, looking out at the river stretching before us till it seemed to meet the rising sun in the distance… our hearts filling with its warm glow.

Later, we bought a copper urn (lota) and had the date engraved on its rim – 19 April 1976. Returning to the bungalow, papa wrote the first card of the thesaurus (then titled Shabdeshwari) and all four of us signed on it, date and all.

As papa would remark many many years later, “On that day, we became a team!”

Though I would appreciate the true significance of that day only twenty years later on 13 December 1996 when my parents – Arvind and Kusum – presented the first copy of the first-ever thesaurus in Hindi or for that matter, ANY modern Indian language, now renamed Samantar Kosh, to the erstwhile President of India, Dr Shankar Dayal Sharma at the Rashtrapati Bhawan!

    *

    Who would have thought that day on the banks of the Godavari that papa would dedicate his entire life to Hindi, overcoming hurdles, physical, financial and personal, in his unabashed pursuit of a dream?

    That my mom would prove to be the ultimate partner in life and support my dad unconditionally through thick and thin.

    That my brother Sumeet would be instrumental in realizing papa’s dream. That he would organize funds for a computer, and despite being a surgeon, learn programming himself to create software for the database, and then teach papa how to work on it.

    That from a little girl who only understood that her father was working on a ‘book,’ I would take it upon myself to take his work to the people.

    YES. We did become a team on that fateful day in Nasik. It is now 25 years since the release of Samantar Kosh in 1996. And the glow in my heart remains as warm as ever.

    Hello Aparna.

    We don’t know each other though I have seen you on the Netflix show Indian Matchmaking. Something you said on the show has been bothering me for months. Hence this letter. Don’t dump it… read through please.

    Your single-minded conviction to excel is impressive. You moved to the US with your mum and sis when you were a kid. Today, you are a young successful lawyer in Houston. Bravo! In search of a ‘perfect’ mate, you have networked with friends, tried dating apps, and now, hope to find one through the services of a matchmaker. And I sincerely wish you find your match soon!

    And perhaps my ‘two-penny worth’ could help you in your quest? And who am I, you may ask, to advise you? Consider me a well-wisher who is happily married with two grown-up children and who would like to share her learnings from a life spent living with the same man for the last 30 years.

    An interfering antiquated auntie? That I am not. DEFINITELY NOT!

    *

    You are right: we don’t pick our parents, we don’t pick our siblings, the only family member we CAN choose is our spouse. True. It’s a choice with lifelong repercussions. You seem to be a person with sound judgment; indeed, as you say, every choice you have made since the age of three has been great. Good for you. This will surely help you find the right man soon!

    True. One can’t settle with just about anybody. And you have every right to reject men ‘because they haven’t fit with what I want in my life partner.’ But what really unsettles me is your single-minded steadfastness when you say that the person you pick has to fit into your life perfectly.

    How does this happen Aparna? Is a perfect fit possible when two people come together?

    You rejected one guy because he loved football and you hate it. You declared that you would never watch football with him, not live, not on TV. You didn’t think much either of the guy who had not heard of the salt plains of Bolivia or of the man who said he would like to visit Dubai and South Africa, both places you don’t think much of. You found it weird when someone expressed the wish to spend ten days on a beach, doing nothing. You were horrified by the prospect of going mountain climbing with another. Anyone with a sense of humor, according to you, does not take life seriously.

    Aparna, each partner brings his or her own likes, dislikes, interests, obsessions, strengths, weaknesses into the relationship. Every individual is unique. Even congenital twins. So how can a spouse be exactly like you? Does one marry a clone?

    My husband Atul and I are poles apart. He loves anything and everything to do with business, economics, politics, crime, war ~ be it news, books, movies, shows, documentaries. I am into nature, history, travel, space, art, literature, sci-fi and romcoms. I love shopping, he does not. I am crazy about movies, he is not. I love meeting people, he is unusually shy. He loves to eat out, I am a cook-and-eat-at-home person. He is committed to golf, I am not. I can go on and on about how different we are as individuals… Yet, our relationship resonates with happy togetherness.

    Each one of us has learned from the other, experienced new things, widened our perspective and I seriously believe, grown into better individuals with time. And isn’t this how it should be when two people share a life? And this togetherness has taken days, months, years to nurture.

    I request you Aparna to approach the matter differently…

    Don’t be categorical about what you like and what you don’t. Instead, next time you meet a prospective match, ask yourself: Do I connect with this man? Because if you do, you can carve out a shared vision for your life together.

    Communication is key. In all relationships. To talk, discuss, argue. To share your thoughts, to express your viewpoint. To sort out differences, to bridge the divide, to be able to reach an agreement. Especially since each partner brings his or her unique ideals, experiences and expectations into the marriage.

    And once you do settle on a match, commit yourself wholeheartedly. Marriage then can be a wonderful journey where both of you grow without growing apart, without changing the other, without resenting the other.

    *

    Another thing on the show bothers me. The matchmaker Seema Taparia reiterates, time and again, that marriage is a compromise. I disagree.

    Compromise implies giving in, relenting, resigning, succumbing, suffering, doing something against your will. Marriage is not a game of one-upmanship. You and your spouse are a team. If changing one’s ways helps the team, it is NOT compromise. It is charting a path with mutual agreement, even when at times, it may not be entirely suitable or convenient to one of them.

    A married couple creates (or rather, needs to create) a life where strengths and weaknesses of one complement the other. Somewhat like Atul and me. Where his ethically motivated choices complement my aesthetically motivated ones such that, I am the action to his vision. He is the clarity to my clutter. I am the how to his why. He is the thinking to my feeling. I am the anchor to his industry. He is the contemplative to my reactive.

    And it is this complementariness that secures and strengthens our relationship. That keeps us warm and secure in happy times, in trying times.

    *

    This letter has begun to sound like a sermon… forgive me Aparna. But I HAD to write it in the hope that it sets you thinking anew. And when you do find your special someone, remember: No decision can be de-risked completely, however much you think, deliberate, analyse. And once you do decide on your mate, will you be happy?

    Well, who knows?