“What’s your bike’s cc?” were the first few words I spoke to him. It was one way of bragging “I ride a gear bike too, you know?” and he understood. I didn’t listen to what he said for my mind was busy processing his image, side by side preparing the next few questions to ask. We worked for the same company and one fine morning, I saw him at the parking lot. My heart was jumping in joy for I was going to keep my bike next to his. Being pathetic at math, I couldn’t recollect his number plate. There was 8 and 6. But his image along with the bike got plastered inside my head. His strong jaw, always-2-day beard (classic Mallu style), his long legs and perfect ass; Ha, what more would I’ve asked for. Impeccable eye contact, slight lisp, loud laugh, light attitude and cute smile were the icing on this cake. Have I really found the one, I wondered. And the rounds began.
Marriage is every girl’s dream and nightmare. May be because it is so confusing, some girls start the selection process from childhood. As a firm believer of *Footwear and husband are the most difficult and important decisions for a girl*, I started with the guy I played *doctor-doctor* and *teacher-student* with. He lost points after he grew permanent teeth. Also because I joined a cooler school where I met my childhood sweetheart. It lasted longer than I thought for the guy got cuter each year! I changed school again, thanks to the RAMAN gang. Everyday cycle rides were combined with Hanuman Chaalisa on the lips and a silent prayer to accidentally run into him. And I did, 8 years later, just to learn he had moved on to an high school sweetheart.
Every guy went through this rigorous evaluation process in my head which was more complicated than Google’s. There was just seeing, seriously seeing, just talking, friends, good friends and close friends. Or, it took a diversion from talking to flirting, going out, dating, relationship and serious relationship.
Generally, moms play a major role in this process. They read minds and voice their opinions out loud. You follow a guy with your eyeballs till your sight can reach and she knows. Even the slightest of the smiles you try to hide on hearing his name, leads to an hour long questioning. And by chance your opinions on the guy don’t match, hell breaks loose. Mine was no exception.
Yet, somehow, this guy slid through all the rounds with ease. Influencers (read: Parents) were convinced and the buck stopped with the RAMAN gang. “Machi, please marry him”, they said. And I am.
Except for the increase in the Malayalam accent in Tamil and English, one year has gone by without boredom and regrets. I really had found The 1.
Happy first year to me.