“I think I want to eat pongal”, I declared, “But not the sweet one, the one which tastes like khichidi and has dollops of ghee. That’s the one I want”.
“That’s called ven pongal, you silly girl”, he said amused, “So dinner is official ven pongal.”
“Hold it. You can’t trick me into making something I can’t even name. So unless you are planning to miraculously cook a perfect dish of ven pongal, dinner is pizza”, I said as I started to reach for my cell phone to call Papa John’s.
“No pizza. I have a plan. Grab your coat. My princess gets what she wants”, he said. His eyes were twinkling with glee.
“That’s called ven pongal, you silly girl”, he said amused, “So dinner is official ven pongal.”
“Hold it. You can’t trick me into making something I can’t even name. So unless you are planning to miraculously cook a perfect dish of ven pongal, dinner is pizza”, I said as I started to reach for my cell phone to call Papa John’s.
“No pizza. I have a plan. Grab your coat. My princess gets what she wants”, he said. His eyes were twinkling with glee.
So that cold winter evening, we drove for a couple of hours over two state lines just to satisfy my craving for a South Indian dish whose name I could hardly recall.
It was the perfect night; laced with laughter, filled with love. It was a perfect night for pictures. I had forgotten my camera, so I decided to memorize the night. And so I did. I memorized the colors of the wall, the specials in black in white, the crack on the window pane. The waiter pronounced his Rs as Ls and there was a sparkle in his eye. We were seated at a small table for two in a quiet corner only to be moved to a bigger table because we had ordered too many things off the menu. The waiter was amused, the sparkle in his eyes grew brighter as he smiled. We walked back to the car, your hands in mine and listened to dopey love songs all the way home.
You and I, together, have created a lot of beautiful memories. But my favorite are the ones we did not plan ahead; whether it is for dinner across state lines or an unexpected detour to the lake.
You and I, together, have created a lot of beautiful memories. But my favorite are the ones we did not plan ahead; whether it is for dinner across state lines or an unexpected detour to the lake.
More often than not, we fall in love with the person we least expect, someone who is probably not your type, someone who thinks apple pie when you are going for an apple martini. You probably do not even notice him first and then suddenly you start seeing him everywhere; two tables away from you at lunch, talking to your lead because they are old friends and sometimes you even end up taking the same elevator. A shy smile here, a bemused hello there and before you know it you are chatting into the night and making plans to meet for coffee the next day. One day you and I were creating memories and the next day you and I are a memory. But I am still
Because being together has taught me to live life with a touch of whimsy.
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This post is my entry for a campaign by Housing
UPDATE: This entry was awarded a Flipkart voucher worth 2500 INR