Cherry On The Cake

I stood there teary-eyed, benumbed by all the emotions my brain was trying to process and heart beating at the speed of a bullet train, that it could have almost left my body encircled around him, almost like a "dance of joy" until he would have caught hold of it and kept it in his upper pocket close to his heart. "I had no clue," he was planning this, from when, where, how, all questions popping like a frog in my head while he held my hand with utmost love and nervousness, and held the solitaire-studded ring in his other hand.

Earlier that day...

It was a casual day in the spring afternoon. I came to his place for his birthday a day before. We had danced, laughed, and celebrated with his folks. Little did I know he was planning something which changed our lives and for the best.

We hardly slept because of all the heat the spring got us, giggling up with his sisters. I tried hard to not think about kissing him. I met him almost after two months, my mind was wondering had I not forgotten how to kiss?

So in all sincerity, I got up and sat next to him as if to peep into his brain to know was he also thinking the same. I couldn't for sure peep into his brain, but his gentle, magnanimous smile was enough to soothe my longing heart at that time.

We slept in different rooms, at least that's what I say. I tried to sleep. I came gushing to him in the morning, wished him with a bright smile. He giggled and said, "Be ready by 12; we will go for a little tour of the city, the city Kolkata, which I feel I have a long-lost connection with, the city rich in its culture, heritage, and food (sweets especially). My love for the city has been since childhood, for a lot of reasons than just sweets. My heart was just not ready to settle that it was a mere coincidence that he happened to be a Bengali, and in all honesty, it still isn't.

In all excitement, I almost squeaked, "Yeah!!"

By the time we were served yummy hot Luchi aar Aloo dum by his mom, who seemed more excited than me hearing that we are going for a little roundabout in the city and immediately suggested a few places, "Victoria Memorial, Cha Bar, Ghoria hath .. dekhte jaawa uchit," with a twinkle gleam in her eyes. By now, I suspect she already knew.

We left from home for Cha Bar. He looked witty and handsome in his aqua blue T-shirt and denims, his hair scuffled by the wind and a little nervous smile that I read from his face, without a pause of which I asked him,

"Are you nervous?"

Not too obvious to reflect it on his face, he quickly flunked my question, "Nervous, what made you think so?" He chuckled.

A questionable look on my face made him sweat more, so he turned his face away towards the window of the cab.

As we entered the cafe book store, he said, "Grab a seat; I will order something to drink," and he left towards the counter.

I was like a kid in a big candy shop, frivolous and enlivened seeing all the books around me. No wonder he chose the perfect place.

I ran my fingers through the fresh pages, smelling the petrichor of the new fresh pages, while he stood there watching me gleefully. Almost 30 mins in the cafe, I was completely into books, reading descriptions and forewords, not knowing which book to read and take home. Seeing that confusion on my face, he said,

"Go sit on the table with your coffee, and let me get a book of my choice for you to read this time."

Without a second thought, I nodded and sat near on a white table with ancient scripting near the window.

By the time I admired the beauty of the city through that clear glass, there he was standing in front of me with the book named "The Perfect Us, By Durjoy Dutta."

No wonder he was more than prepared for what he planned, not only today but for the rest of his life.

He gave me the book, smiling as if someone stuffed a hanger in his mouth. I chuckled on seeing him.

I delightfully said, "You know I haven't read this one, didn't you? You are smart."

The book was a little heaved up, as if a pencil was kept instead of a book marker. He kept the book in front of me and asked me to open the book, to which I opened from what I thought was to be a pencil.

Better did I know, I was opening the door to my future with him.

A sparkle gleamed in my eyes; there was a beautiful solitaire-studded platinum ring shining on page 111, so enchanting that my screaming dopamine levels said cherry on the cake.

I gazed at him amused, wanting to say YES even before he could have asked anything, but I was just quite, love brimming through my eyes. He gently held my hand with utmost love and nervousness, stood up, came in front of me, and sat down on his knee.

I chuckled seeing the classic scene of any proposal.

He said, "The day we met, I clearly remember how haphazardly you entered that training room, but later did I know that you are entering my life with all your aura to change it.

I am not going to bore you with a long story of why you? You already know it all.

You make me want to be a better person every day with all your love.

I would want to have you by my side on all my angry, sad, lonely, and happy days. I would love for you to grow old with me! The best is yet to be, and it begins from the moment you say yes!"

So in all sincerity, I would ask you, ...Will you marry me?"

Without any thoughts, I nodded with a big smile, hugged him tight, whispering "Yes" in his ears.

The crowd in the cafe cheered and clapped as he gave me the ring. We both said "I Love You" in chorus.

He slowly brushed his lips against mine for another five seconds, and I knew I hadn't forgotten how to kiss as I tasted his love.