Some love stories live forever

It was 10 in the morning. Punit had woken up early to get ready for the day. It was a special day after all. Shruti, the love of his life and mother to his two children, was waiting for him. Outside, it was raining. The morning rains always reminded him of the day they met each other for the first time. It was the summer rain, which was as beautiful as their relationship of more than five decades. For the occasion, Punit had picked up white lilies. His wife’s favorites. He was wearing a brown jacket and khaki trousers, and a beige shirt that Shruti had bought him a few months ago. Of course, it wasn’t the first time he had picked flowers to make his wife smile. He had done this—the making her smile part—since day one. Sometimes, by playing the ukulele, the other times, by cooking her favorite meal. But lately, flowers were what she had loved the most. Punit was standing at the gate. Shruti was waiting for him. For someone looking from afar, it may have seemed like he was collecting his thoughts as if he was about to meet his blind date. He was a tad nervous, yes, not because he was searching for icebreakers but because he feared she might not talk to him. He was thinking about their last meeting. It was good but he wasn’t sure if it would be the same this time. Standing at the gate wasn’t going to solve anything. So he moved his feet and walked towards Shruti. He looked at her, smiled, and stretched his arms out with the flowers. But the wind was blowing hard so he had to put a hand on his head so his hat doesn’t fly away. After a few short breaths, he said, “How have you been?” That’s how he always started his conversations with her. Four simple words, when spoken with a lot of depth and love, can echo for eternity. After an hour, as he turned around to get back to his car that was parked outside the gate, the wind gusted again. The flowers on Shruti’s grave moved a little as if she took a whiff. Punit saw this and smiled, “Yes, I’ll eat on time. See you tomorrow, my love!”