SHE

She’s a special woman … She’s my wife – so ran a commercial that I remember having liked a couple of decades ago.

For nineteen years to the day, she has endured me and my eccentricities. For nineteen years, she has been by my side, through thick and thin. For nineteen years, she has never asked me for anything and always sought to know what I wanted. For nineteen years, she has taken care of me like nobody ever can, knowing full well that I could have done so much better. For nineteen years, she has been everything for me, and I could have been more for her. For nineteen years, she has been a part of my family, making it our family; I am not sure I can say the same thing about myself. For nineteen years, she has borne the pain of everything that I inflicted on her and given me happiness in return – the two wonderful daughters are testimony to that. For all these years, she has brought up the two daughters into good young girls, and that has probably been in spite of me, and not because of. For nineteen years, she has never made a long face at anything; I have probably never been as good. For nineteen years, even when I have not said ‘please’ … for anything, she has pleased me. For nineteen years, and as we enter our twentieth year of marriage, she has been a wonderful friend, spouse, mother and all else to me. What have I been to her?

Well, why now? And, why not post this at the eighteeth, seventeenth, or earlier? I probably would not have done this even now – it is just that something happened that made me realize how the hell I would have missed her not so long ago. In fact, just a few days ago. That was the day when it was a second coming for me, not for her.

Walking along the beach at Besant Nagar, she missed noticing a huge wave, slipped and was drawn into the sea. Thankfully, my sister-in-law and my daughter were nearby. Panicking, she was pulled out of the sea, shell-shocked. She was drenched in the sand the retreating waters had deposited on her. She was pale with shock, words failing her. She was brave and courageous not to make the others despondent. I was not there – I was walking towards them to join them at the beach.

As my daughter narrated the happening, I was forced to put up a brave face – not for anything else, but to bring her back to as normal as I could. But, it took a couple of days for normalcy to return. I still cannot think about what would have …

Now you know why this was not written on the eighteenth, seventeenth … or earlier. I probably had taken things for granted. I was wrong. I should have been posting this every year.


As Veena and I enter the twentieth year of our marriage on 5 May 2011 (twenty-fourth of our courtship), it is a case of better late than never.