"What? You haven't talked to your parents yet? Shillang! You promised me you'd do that by now."
If you are wondering who this new character, Shillang, is – it's me. And the person shouting those questions at me is my Dae. Yes, she is mine now.
We are in love. For the first time.....sounds crazy?
So, did it happen when we were studying together in college?
Of course not.
Was it love at first sight?
Definitely not. We haven't even seen each other yet!
--The questions my friends asked would ask me and the answers I gave them. (There were some dirty ones too, which I can ignore.) But everyone's last question was the same.
ARE YOU CRAZY?
I don't knowwwwwwwwwww........
Indeed, being in love with a person you haven't even met is a crazy thing. And deciding to marry that person someday, even crazier. Never in my wildest dreams had I thought my love-life would be like this. To be honest, I had never even thought of any love-life.
But, now, I had changed a lot and was no longer the person I used to be till some time ago.
A lot of things had changed, in me and around me. I had started slipping out of conversations with my friends just to give her a call. I slept less and talked more. My phone bills led my monthly spending chart, leaving the house rent miles behind the race. I started noticing couples: the way they sat together in gardens, hand in hand; the way a girl holds her boyfriend, on a motorbike. I started worrying about the "how do I look" factor. My status in Facebook changed from 'single' to 'committed'. She became the password to my several interest ID's. Sitting in my office alone, I used to smile, talking to nobody.
Love was in the air.
Ours was such a different story. A 21st century love story, whose foundation was modern-day gadgets. Thanks to Graham bell for inventing telephones that helped me talk to her, know her better and, finally, fall in love with her. Thanks to the internet, the world wide web and matrimonial sites that helped me find her. I discovered myself to be a true software engineer in this hi-tech-love phase. And whether this kind of love was good or bad, was no longer a point to ponder------we were already in it.
Coming back to the reason she was shouting at me.
It was because I broke a promise. No, not the boozing one. Something else.
Her family knew about me since our first call, but the case wasn't the same at my end. My family did not know about her yet. In fact, they didn't even know that their son's profile was on some matrimonial site. Naturally, she was concerned about this situation. That too, after we had finally decided our destiny.
Her queries about this matter were growing everyday. Gradually, she started feeling uncomfortable because of this very reason. Therefore, a week earlier, i had promised her that I would talk to my family om the coming weekend. But unfortunately, I could not, because of the weekend exam at IMS. ( IMS. Another interesting similarity between us was this MBA preparation center. We both were preparing for MBS, and we had joined the same crash-course in the same institute in our respective places.)
"I could not travel to Gwangju last weekend because I had to give my class-test at IMS," I said, trying to calm her.
"But you promised me Shillang...!" My shouting lady turned into an emotional one. She killed me with that name. she loved to call me with different names and the best among them all was Shillang. And I loved the way she used to say it. with such care and warmth.
"This weekend I will, for sure. I don't have any task more important that this one," I told her.
And my Buin was happy again. Buin. The name I gave her, for cute and sweet; feminine counterpart for Shillang.
The next weekend arrived and I was panicking. After all, I was going to talk to my parents about my marriage. This was definitely going to be a bolt from the blue, for them.
I was smart enough to take my sister, Dawon, into confidence the night before we left for Gwangju. She already knew something was going on between me and some girl. My last night calls had made that much clear. But she had never imagined that all this started at a matrimonial site. Being her younger brother, I did not give her any option except to be on my side when I talked to mom and dad.
Since the moment we arrived at our home in Gwangju, I was doing strange things, moving here and there, trying to bring the subject up, trying to find just the right moment. But I was not at all sure what the perfect moment was.
I was thinking too much. More than my brain could handle. Should I say it now? Or should I wait till the clock's minute hand has covered fifteen more minutes? But even after it had covered a hundred and fifty minutes, I was still waiting.
Every time I was about to spill it out, something would happen: the telephone rang, somebody knocked at the door and, if nothing else, some stupid things dragged my mom back into the kitchen. The one moment when no such thing happened. I just could not open my mouth.
"She's going to cry this time, if I don't do this," I told myself.
After lunch, I somehow gathered enough courage to initiate the dreaded conversation. Even though I thought it was quiet bizarre to ask my parents how they met and married each other, I could not think of a better way to bring up the subject.
"Omma, tell me one thing. How did you guys find each other and end up marrying?" I asked.
Mom and dad looked at each other, then at me and smiled. Parents are smart, and what we don't know is that they know what's going on in our minds. They had probably read, very easily, what the marquee on my forehead was displaying.
Still, they narrowed their story, and the moment that was over, Omma asked, "So how is yours getting started?"
I wondered if I should hide my face in the cushions, or say, "My story...? I don't have any," before my brain angrily told me, "come on, speak up, you fool!"
And, fortunately, gathering all my shy courage, I narrated my story so far. I even showed them her picture. I was expecting a lot of ifs and buts from my parents, but to my surprise nothing of that sort happened. Even Dawon had asked me more questions than my parents asked!
Mom was happy because, finally, her son was thinking about marriage. Dad wad happy because the toughest part – searching for a girl and his son's choice – was over. He was relieved, though he tried to sound quiet diplomatic. I was happy because, finally, I was able to het this thing out of my heart and place it in front of everybody. And Dawon, she was observing everything's reactions. She doesn't get influenced easily, and that's something I both like and dislike in her.
A couple of questions from both mom and dad, which I answered with confidence, and that was it. I had never thought that this toughest of hurdles would be over so quickly.
But before we left for Seoul, on Sunday evening, at my car, "we will analyze this, but it's good that you have become serious about your marriage."
"No issues. I understand your point," I said to him. Inside, though, I was thinking, "who cares dad!"
Sunday midnight, I reached my other home in Seoul. Searching out on my bed, I called Dae up.
"Mission accomplished," I said, waking her up. Those two words conveyed everything to her. And what did I get in response? A fusillade of kissed. The last ones were real passionate. That was the first time she kissed me on phone.
"Oh boy! So loud? No one is around, ah?" I asked.
She didn't answer my questions but said, " I feel like pulling you into my bed right now and kissing you madly."
Wow! She was so happy, mad and comfortable, knowing that I had finally told my family about her.
Another milestone in our love story was crossed. Both our families now knew about our affair. And, as usual, I was happy because my Buin was happy. But, as they say, "Love is a blend of different emotions." Soon an evening came when I made her cry. And then I cried because she was crying.
A/N:
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