My Kind of Fairy Tale

We have been married for six years now, yet it seems, it was just yesterday. I still remember our first meeting. Those beaming eyes and flashing smile, those perfectly toned muscles. He seemed like a Greek sculpture designed with the utmost perfection.

We belong to a lower middle class family and as is the trend, arranged marriages in the early 20’s are common here. It was aunt, who brought forth the invitation of an alliance with his family and thank God, she did. There could not have been a more perfect person than him.

The families met and everything seemed to happen just in the spur of the moment. Within a month, my surname changed to be Mrs. Agarwal, the wife of Hrithwik Agarwal, a software developer, working in the United States.

Hrithwik and I hardly knew each other’s likes and dislikes, however, there was this unseen bond between us that kept us bound. Honeymoon was not in our plates as he had to return the very next week after marriage.

It is difficult to cope up when you and your husband stay at different places. After all, long distance any which ways is always cumbersome to maintain. His parents were lovely, but I still felt alien and alone here. Somewhere I longed to go home.

He promised to call me but I knew it would not be practical to expect him to call me with the difference in time zones and work load. But he proved me wrong and I am so grateful he did. Calls did come often to check on how I was doing, messages too kept exchanging. Never did we realise that those calls and messages had somehow got extended from the general time frame to a bit more. It seemed like we were in touch almost all the time. Love was brewing and we could feel it strong. If anything was left, would be to convey it in words.

It was about to be April, my birth month. Once again, the loneliness started creeping in. Yes, we talked but I was pretty sure he did not know about my birthday. My friends came to visit me the other day and enquired about my plans for my birthday. I had nothing to say, after all, what could I exactly say?

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23rd April, 12:00 A.M midnight- The doorbell rang. My heart was racing wondering who it could be at such odd hour. We were not expecting a visitor either. My father-in-law opened the door. There was no one, except a cake and a bouquet at the door. He collected it and brought it inside. None of us was aware what was going on.

My friends had entered the house through the back door and were in my room. We proceeded towards my room and I could hear a familiar voice- his voice, singing birthday wishes. My heart leaped with joy. I sprang open the door to find a laptop seated at my bed. He was there on skype with a cake and candles placed on a table.

He finally spoke- so you expected I would not know about this? Go on, make a wish, and blow off the candles. I complied. He asked- what did you ask for? With teary eyes, I replied, I wished you were here with me and the video call went off making me sadder.

Before I could think, somebody pulled me into a bear hug and it was Hrithwik. I buried in his chest sobbing, while he caressed my hair saying, here you go Mrs. Agarwal, wish fulfilled.

He flew all the way from America just for my birthday. There could not have been a better gift and a better life partner than him. While I was still buried in his chest, I faintly uttered- I Love You! Love you too– came the reply!

This is my kind of fairy tale, my kind of love I was searching for all this years, hoping for a prince charming to come sweep me off my feet. Finally, I found love in him

“One does not need to fall in love before marriage always to paint a fairy tale. If you are destined to one, things would fall in place, even with the person you married and in the worst of situations. All needed, is to embrace and love unconditionally and a fairy tale would fall in place.”

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Arpita Mukherjee

About the Author

Arpita Mukherjee

Immersed in the love of writing, I am a B.tech graduate from Assam. My name is Arpita Mukherjee. Emotions in me have a different way of flowing free, not by sound but by strokes. This is where I let me float. Come be a part of my world and feel the emotions. “If it is writing, I place my soul on a platter for you”- Arpita

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