Love is an unusual force in one’s life. Over the years, I have seen couples who barely had a trace of romance in their marriage, yet they lived together harmoniously for decades without misunderstandings. Love, in its true essence, remains a mystery—hard to define yet deeply felt.
As a teenager, I never experienced love the way novels described it. Instead, I had a close friendship with someone from the opposite sex—a bond so strong that, even today, its foundation remains unshaken. Though a Tamilian by heritage, I was born and raised in Madhya Pradesh and had never visited South India until my graduation.
During my final year of BA, my mother decided it was time for us to visit our native place for a family wedding—her cousin’s, to be precise. It was the summer of 1966, and the three-day train journey was nothing short of exhausting. Traveling in a non-air-conditioned sleeper coach in the peak of summer was a challenge, yet it was an adventure. The vibrant scenes along the way, the rush of travelers, and the tempting aroma of local delicacies made it unforgettable. I was particularly drawn to the flavors of Idli, Dosa, Vada, and Sambhar, but it was the crispy Dal Vada that won my heart—something I relish even today.
Upon arrival, I was welcomed with curiosity and treated like an outsider by my extended family. My Tamil was broken, and I was unfamiliar with the traditions, including eating meals served on plantain leaves. Yet, everything felt strangely exciting.
It was there that I was introduced to a young man—dark spectacles, quiet demeanor, a few years older than me. The moment wasn’t extraordinary, nor did it feel significant at the time. However, much to my surprise, my elders decided to fix our alliance. He agreed, but when asked for my consent, I stated firmly that I wanted to continue my education and pursue a career.
We returned home, and I enrolled in my post-graduation course. My focus remained on my ambitions, with no room for thoughts of marriage. However, my suitor visited us in Madhya Pradesh, and I found him to be a reserved, book-loving intellectual. Despite our interactions, love did not instantly blossom between us. He wasn’t particularly talkative, and I was too absorbed in my dreams. At that time, I believed love wasn’t something that grew gradually—it was either an instant spark or nothing at all.
Years passed—1966 turned into 1972. I pursued various jobs and continued my journey of self-growth. One day, out of the blue, I received a postcard from his father. It stated that his son was still willing to marry me. This time, it felt different. Having completed my post-graduation and gained work experience, I was finally at a stage where I could consider marriage.
Around the same time, my brother’s wedding was arranged, and my suitor’s family attended the ceremony. Once again, I was asked for my decision. This time, I proposed visiting their home before making my final call. They agreed, and after my visit, I returned with a sense of comfort. Soon after, our wedding was fixed.
And so, someone who was once just an acquaintance became my lifelong companion. This time, I truly felt what love was. There were no grand gestures or dramatic confessions—just a deep, silent understanding. Our journey was slow and steady, but as the saying goes, “Slow and steady wins the race.” We walked together, leaving footprints in the sands of life, built on mutual respect and unwavering support.
Now, over 50 years later, I look back with gratitude. This marriage, built on trust and companionship, has been a testament to the beauty of love that unfolds naturally. We are no longer two individuals—we are one. We remember our beginning, the quiet exchanges, and the unspoken promises.
No dating, no elaborate courtship—just an exchange of glances and silent understanding. And yet, through all these years, we have felt an overwhelming sense of contentment, a love that was perhaps preordained. With our two daughters, our journey has been nothing short of beautiful.
Love, in its truest form, may not always begin with a spark, but it grows, deepens, and strengthens over time. Perhaps, it was always meant to be.
Image Courtesy: By CottonbroStudio via Pexels
Leave your comments below, as it matters
— Uma Natarajan
About The Author:
Uma Natarajan holds an M.A. in English Literature from Gwalior University and is a dedicated educator and esteemed poet. Throughout her career, she has taught English and Hindi at the higher secondary level, particularly in convent schools.
Her literary contributions span both English and Hindi poetry. She has self-published 18 books of English poetry and 2 books of Hindi poetry. Her impactful writing is evident across various literary platforms and groups, where she regularly shares her poems and articles.
Dr. Uma Natarajan’s works have been published in several prestigious magazines and websites. Her extensive experience and dedication to writing have earned her a distinct place in the literary world.
Uma Natarajan – An inspiring figure who brings thoughts to life through words.
This was such a beautifully written and deeply moving story! The way you captured the quiet yet powerful nature of a love that endures through a lifetime was truly touching. I especially appreciated how you portrayed the emotions the longing, devotion, and quiet strength in such a heartfelt and relatable way. It’s incredible how love can speak volumes even in silence, and your writing conveyed that beautifully. Thank you for sharing this poignant and memorable piece your storytelling is truly remarkable. Keep writing your words have a special way of touching hearts!