I find it difficult to remember what to add first, onion or tomatoes, when making a gravy. I was in the kitchen a while back trying to make egg and potato curry. I added chopped onions first and then the tomatoes. I hope that works. I had to stop preparing the gravy midway when I realized the egg wasn’t boiled yet. I thought they were and so I tried peeling off the shell of an egg. White liquid oozed from inside. Oops. I placed back the egg back in the vessel, with the other eggs and potatoes and lighted back the flame. The egg is getting boiled as I write this post. The onions and tomatoes are cooling down in a frying pan as I write this post. I am 30 years old as I write this post. The transition from twenties to thirties happened yesterday. When people turn 30, they often feel like expressing how it feels to be thirty. I have no clear feelings. But I feel like expressing nevertheless.
Biwi will be back from her dance rehearsals in less than hour. I hope I have something eatable for her when she returns. I don’t usually cook food. Today is perhaps the first time since we moved to Goa, that I have attempted something on my own (without her asking me to). Earlier today, she had asked me what I think of love as. Love is an undefined feeling that comes from within and can’t be expressed in words. I told her. I didn’t tell her whether I loved her or not. She didn’t ask. I don’t know. I do know she loves me. That’s the reason I have never let her leave me since she discovered me. Or we discovered each other as they say.
There was a time when I had felt I was in love, whatever love was. I had felt so, because I had wanted to be with those girls. Wanted to be with them forever. Live with them. And that never happened. So I never could know if that really was love. And then I started hanging out with MRP. And I could feel her fascination for me. Her admiration for me. And her eagerness to be with me. I let her be with me. Because she was a good girl to be with. And yet, I am not sure I ever fell in love with her.
After several months of courtship, I was clear about one thing though. I had the feeling that life would be better with her than if she left. Would you call that love? I don’t know. I proposed to her one day, to marry me. She said yes. We got married. And now it’s not just about the two of us. New families have met each other; wew relationships have been forged. A simple sweet relationship between a girl in love with a crazy boy, and a crazy boy who was never sure if he was in love and yet didn’t feel like getting the girl drift away, has been replaced by a husband-wife relationship. I am 30 years old now and I have been together with MRP, now my biwi, since more than two years, and I still carry the same feeling. The feeling where you don’t feel you are in love and yet at the same time, you don’t really want her to stop being a part of your life. I wonder if I am the only one who feels this way. When I am away, I hardly miss my wife. I hardly miss anybody. I hardly miss my ma, papa, siblings. Does that mean I don’t love them? May be not. May be, I don’t know what love is. Does anybody know what love is? I am not dying to find out the answer anyway. I am okay with this state of being. Where I have no clear feelings. But I feel like expressing nevertheless. I am 30 years old.