“Baboo will you make some coffee?” “Sure!” “Ah, done!”
“Where’s my love and concern?” “Ulp. But you asked for coffee.” Grr.
For all that the brown boy and I are friends with each other, we fight enough. Here’s a hurriedly drawn page from one of 2018’s journals, when I was trying to figure out our new toaster…and he said something especially mean.
Today the brown boy and I celebrate fifteen years of being married. I am incredibly proud of this milestone, but the entire credit goes to him – who knew patience could last that long?
He’s put up with my weirdness, taken full responsibility of being the parent to our child
…all for the pleasure being in this blog!
He’s the Bergman to my Ullman,
my sense of home and my ends of days:
This marriage may have been a mistake but I would make it again to live through all these years with this brown boy again.
The story of us: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 • Paris, not me
And here’s the drawing that I made after our first anniversary: We had sat and watched the waves in Bandstand.
Sometimes words don’t mean anything at all.
With company, inspiration and Turkish coffee from Pacificleo. Read the actual story here.
Shaadi.com is one of India’s most popular matrimonial sites.
Read Part 1 and Part 2 first, if you’re coming here for the first time.
So this is the last and final part!
And if you’re wondering about the haircut read The Mumbai Chronicles!
here’s part 1, if you missed it.
and this is part 2: