“Are two people coming?” – I was surprised, because earlier my friend had said she had invited one foreign person to her birthday party. But the names sounded like two separate names to me: Lijo and Chacko. He entered the room full of laughing girls, because they all knew, and only I was not aware of who he was.
The party was good, he kept playing with words, cracking jokes and made me blush not once. Apparently, I was the only one to understand them fully.
And so it started.
We used to discuss business first, because Lijo was planning a long trip and I helped. And all the while I was marveling at every email, re-reading them over and over, overwhelmed by his skill of intricate, elegant playing with the language. The linguist in me was gone then, unconditional and total surrender.
Emails grew into phone calls, phone calls grew into weekend meetings. It was much easier for me to travel that time. He stayed in my home town, which I had left long before, but visited once in a while to meet parents and friends. Trains, planes, every now and then I was on the move, first coming to him and after a short while – leaving him. And
again, and again – leaving him every time, with a ray of hope for another meeting some time soon.
Once, after I already settled in Mumbai, we went to the airport to see off a friend. Reached the airport, shook hands, wished a good journey to the friend and started back. It was then that it struck me: “I am so happy it is not me leaving today!”
Happy I was, and am till now.
They say we should thanks those who make us smile, tolerate those who make us cry, and trust those who make us smile when tears are in our eyes. Lijo is the only one who can make me smile in any situation, no matter what.
And I do trust him – completely.