In search of..

Pssht!

The rush of air was followed by the soft hiss of the bus doors opening. I was standing at the terminal, heart pounding, waiting for her arrival. I had played that moment in my mind a hundred times before — with violins, angels, and background music. Everything cinematic.I looked eagerly at the footboard, waiting for her tiny feet to appear.

Crunch!

Instead, a burly-looking woman with a stern face descended first. “You must be [my name],” she said flatly, without even a hint of a smile."Certainly heard a lot about you," she continued — and she made sure I heard plenty. The way she said, ‘I’m glad to have met you,’ carried such reluctant dismay that I almost felt guilty for being in love with her daughter.

The moment only got more awkward from there. When my girl stepped down with her luggage, I didn’t even help her — too busy trying to impress her mother with polite small talk.

Yet, despite that clumsy start, I was happy. She worked day and night to keep us both afloat — and though it wasn’t the gifts or the outings that made me smile, it was something deeper. Every time she felt low, she found her way to me. I became her safe place, her personal pillow to absorb the tears of the world.We shared everything — food, love, music, money, and yes, even a bed.

Months later, as we prepared to move in together, I couldn’t help but smile thinking back to that first day in Bangalore. I still remember the warmth of her breath on my chest, her eyes wide and innocent like a child’s — unsure of everything in this world except one thing: being with me.That day, when I met her mother, something shifted in me. Usually, I’d have cracked a joke or rolled my eyes at a strict parent. But that time, I didn’t. For the first time, I felt like calling someone else’s mother my own.

Maybe moving in together breaks a few social norms. Maybe it’ll raise eyebrows. But if I can keep her happy — truly happy — that feels like the only world worth conquering.I won’t lie. I’m scared. Nightmares still visit me sometimes — of what people might say or how life might turn. But none of it scares me enough to change my decision. After all, what’s life without a bit of controversy?And then, there’s love — and yes, sex.

I’ve always felt that sex is God’s clever way of keeping us tethered to Earth. Otherwise, we’d all go to heaven too soon searching for such bliss. It’s not just physical pleasure; it’s the journey — slow, beautiful, and deeply human. The kind that reminds you you’re alive.

So here I am, ready to move in with the woman who still makes me stutter, stammer, and blush like a complete fool.

To my parents — I’m sorry. Not because I believe I’m doing wrong, but because I promised my mom once that I wouldn’t. I tried to keep that promise. But love has a way of making even the calmest man a little… well, retarded.I

At least now, I’m happy, Mama.