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‘What?’ he said, his eyes the size of saucepans.
‘Will you marry me?’ I repeated, crying and laughing at the same time now.
‘Wait a second!’ he said, bending low and inspecting the ring. ‘This is my ring!’
‘Yes.’
‘How did you get it?’
‘Vikram got it for me.’
‘That slime! He stole it from me?’
‘For me,’ I said, smiling sweetly.
‘You scoundrel!’ he growled and then laughed my favourite laugh, the one that started somewhere at the back of his throat and filled me with the purest kind of joy. A laugh that I had not heard in weeks.
However, practical matters took precedence.
‘Purva, you really need to say something! My knee is killing me!’ I groaned, laughing, tears still fresh in my eyes. ‘Purva!’ I wailed impatiently.
He laughed for what seemed like a good hour before giving me his hand.
‘Yes, I will, darling. Of course I will,’ he said softly, holding on to my hand to help me get up.
‘You will?’ I asked just to be sur
e as I put the ring on his finger
‘Kasturi,’ he said, looking earnestly into my eyes, ‘if there is one thing I have realized in the last few days, it is this – I cannot live a few days without you. How do you think I will live a lifetime without my daily dose of madness, you crazy, goofy and absolutely adorable woman?’
Delighted and beyond happy, I threw my arms around his neck. Yahooooo!’ I yelped, as I smacked one big, wet kiss on his lips.
Laughing, Purva wrestled out of the kiss and held me in a long, warm embrace. Almost making up for the distance of the last few weeks.
Words fail me here, they do. For it is so difficult to describe the simple joy of being able to love the man you love. Of being able to look into his eyes and find them filled with love for you. Of being able to kiss his lips and know that he loves you more than any other. Of looking for his eyes to see that they have already found you. Of extending him a hand to see that he is already offered you his…
To be in love with a man who loves you with all his heart, that is, without any doubt, the most wonderful thing in this world.
32
12 August 2013, 1.00 a.m.
Purva and I spent more than an hour together, simply talking … trying to catch up on the weeks we had spent apart. I curled up in his lap, sitting cheek-to-cheek, taking in the familiar smell of the disinfectant, refusing to let go of his hand even for a second.
Purva’s strong arms clasped my waist and pulled me closer to him, his eyes boring into mine. I let him pull me to himself, feeling snug and comfortable in his arms. Wrapped in them, I felt fully aware of how much he loved me. Purva traced my face with his finger, staring intently at every patch of skin that his fingers touched and then leant in for a kiss. He kissed me with an urgency that I was not familiar with, probably making up for the time apart. There was something about being kissed now that was in stark contrast with the kisses before our break-up. These seemed more urgent, more passionate, less doubtful. He kissed my eyes, brows and forehead and I let him, revelling in the love of a man I knew for sure I loved in return.
‘Your alphabet cakes were very cute,’ he said, looking indulgently at me. I was already revelling in the attention that Purva was lavishing on me. How I had missed this!
‘I know,’ I said coyly, shrugging my shoulders, ‘and the fish?’
Purva laughed out loud. ‘Silly Kasturi!’ he said, tousling my hair.
‘Did you solve the crossword?’ I asked.
‘Of course I did. It took me less than a minute.’
‘Was it then that you decided to forgive me?’ I asked, more out of curiosity than anything else. What had finally worked?
