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You could call it magic or serendipity, but if this had not happened that night, maybe I would not have had the life I live now with my husband!
Many years back, almost seventeen years ago, a younger me had rushed from office to see my then boyfriend at a restaurant near my place of residence for our dinner date. We were neck-deep into that phase of initial euphoria that new relationships bring along. So good times and smooth conversations flowed with a sentence here, a gentle nod there and rest communicated in the language of love. When you meet for at max two hours in a day, you put your best face forward. Don’t you?
Except that on this evening, there was some unexpected trouble in paradise. It started with a minor difference of opinion about something so inconsequential that I can’t remember it at all!
Check it out!
When two unrelenting individuals with a strong and opposing point of view get into a discussion, chances are it will go to fight proportions until at least one sees sense or a mediator comes along. Since neither happened in our case, there was the inevitable result. All lovey-dovey until now, we were instantly at loggerheads. The hidden I’s in the ‘US’ we were hoping to build together surfaced and neither of us was ready to let the other one have the last word.
We stopped only after the server got us the cheque (Thank God! Since we were at threshold of creating a public scene). Amidst thick tension and an unbridgeable gap that lay between us, we left the restaurant.
It was late in the night and despite the tension between us, he chose to walk me home before heading to his own. As we walked on the road towards my residence, neither spoke for a while. When we finally did talk, we found ourselves in the thick of our unresolved discussion. Yet again, we ferociously defended our respective stance. As we reached the juncture on road that would have led me home in flat two minutes, we decided that we could not leave this hanging and hence took a little detour to continue to sort this out.
Our argument went on to become so nasty that once more, we had to consciously end it by slipping into two separate sheets of silence. It was in those introspective moments of ‘quiet’ that the dreadful realization of being too vocal for a lifelong relationship struck us. Minor issues in each other’s personality that we knew about but which we had slid under the carpet until now began to slide out one-by-one and dance monstrously in front of us. We brought our fears to the table and agreed that two equally difficult individuals cannot go on to make a happy life together. And therefore, like two mature people who understood the importance of ‘compatibility’ in a working equation, we quietly decided to call it off and never see each other ever again.
Heavy in my heart after a fresh breakup, I began to walk towards my home and away from him but instead of walking in the other direction, he followed me. I knew that he still wanted to see me reach home safely. Tears welled up in my eyes at his concern for me. He was a good guy and I was genuinely in love with him. “Why must not we get a chance to make a life together?” I thought and shed a few more tears as I walked home on that dark and deserted road. But despite this, I was not ready to offer the first words of truce for my inflated ‘ego’ would not allow me that.
I am sure he must have been as heartbroken with our relationship seemingly over but the egotistical him made no attempts to patch up either. And thus with each step I took, I braced myself for life minus him and convinced myself that this was over.
Meanwhile, the road winded and I wound along. It was in here that ‘Magic’ stood waiting for me to notice it, and notice I did. To be honest, despite the moment, what caught my self-absorbed eye was my name written on the back of a rickshaw parked on that turn. Since, ‘Jyoti’ is a terribly common name in India and practically everything from a needle to ice cream to truck could pass off being called ‘Jyoti,’ this was no biggie. The OMG angle came from its timing and pairing with the rare name ‘Avenish’, also written on that rickshaw.
Notwithstanding the fresh heartbreak I was nursing, a smile came upon my face as I sensed the magic of the moment. For me to take a detour, this rickshaw to have our names, for it to be parked here, the pole lights to be on and for me to see it; scores of little angels must have worked overtime. The rickshaw was just a circumstantial tool planted by the Universe at that time. It could have been anything in the world, but the message would have been the same, I knew.
I must really have looked at it in disbelief for long since Avenish who was trailing me stopped by to see what I was looking at. Needless to say, he was as stunned by it, and remains so even today whenever we talk about it!
Immediately, I knew it was a sign and so did he despite not being a ‘destiny’ person. He clutched on to my hand and I closed mine in his. That precise moment, we knew we were destined to be together.
Seventeen years later, each time I think of the coincidence that night, I thank God and smug that I am, give a little credit to my craziness too for being able to seek and find ‘Magic’ in most improbable places. And why shouldn’t I? Had it not been for that ‘eye to see magic in everything,’ I might have lost out on my biggest blessing in life – my husband!
Also seventeen years more matured, I have come to believe that if two people have to be in each other’s life, life finds a way to tie them together using some or the other ploy. Every time they begin to drift apart, BOOM! happens something inexplicable, something magical to throw them back together. All they need is keep their faith alive and senses attuned to knock of magic on the door of their hearts.
Though sometimes, just sometimes, magic happens to a non-believer too and take him by surprise like it did my husband who is an outright karma celebrant though I am quite invested in kismet. Perfect marriage of ‘doer and dreamer,’ I hear you say and I smile ear-to-ear on the sound of that even today after fourteen years of being married to him.
And yes! Even today, while he rolls with action, I go on seeking my sliver of magic in everyday moments. Collecting them, trying to form a bigger chunk. Who knows, a blessing is waiting to be seen at some turn, some winding? Who knows, if it is waiting to be realized as magic by a believing heart…
Image source: pixabay
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