Of 14th April.

What will cometh, in after a turn-play of eight days and nights, is not the end we sought with such perseverance and love but a promise of its realization (given a continuity of breaths and heartbeats for the years to come). We’ve come afar, over the years, of times when we clogged our consciences with imaginary dirt and realized that in that hypothesized descent we found the elevation of our souls. I prepare for the day with hopes and longings, taking hours to decide what to wear and how to smell, and reservations that this is day I’d be judged by people who loved you and claimed you till now.

When of glory, our story lacks it. No lengthy blogs can be written about a happy ending for it’s the flagellation (or the pretension of it) that is deemed glorious. We couldn’t have a fetish for sadness and hence the muse that draws admiration from similar imbeciles. Remember, right from the first day, we knew we’d make it work. Right from the first day, we laughed at the heart-wrenching tales of those seekers of sadness who remain totally oblivious that their tales of tears were not the mourning for a lost love but a celebration of the love they found—that funny trail of clichés and blood.

Of sacrifices again, we don’t have the scars to prove anything. We did whatever had to be done without a vestige of regret, so then again no ‘real sacrifice’ and no glory. I am so fortunate to have found you love, for you sought togetherness for togetherness, not for the pain that resides in its shattered debris

Of memories, we made some—rich, aromatic and blissful. Memories that’ll stay with us not for the things we did, for all that will be nothing new in coming years of growing old, but for the inexplicable dilemmas we faced in their making, the tremble and uncertainty of approaching each other and sensations that has never left us since. Such grownup children we were then.
Looking afar still, instead of weaving fantasies of perfect day, we care more about the things that can go wrong. And perhaps that feeling will never let us be free, but then again, better being together then being free. I’ve lost my eloquence over the years, and patience to find a line that fits; some otherday maybe, when I’ll have a day for myself I’d search for it. Till then, in these incoherent lines and such unimpressive narrative, I wanted to say, Happy Engagement. We've come through :)

P.S.
I remember what to throw at whom-literature at your dad, movies at your brother and jokes at your friends and all. In all that, I hope I get a moment alone to say something to you, something that is not so carefully pre-thought.