#100WordsOrLess ‘Look at that cuff link. It looks splendid.’ Reshma examined the cuff links and phased out for a second to imagine it on her husband’s hand. It would look handsome, surely. But still, it wasn’t what she had in mind. ‘No Nandu. I don’t think he’ll like it.’ Nandini, her friend of 14 years threw up her palms in exaggerated despair. ‘Whyy? It does look good.’ ‘It does. It will suit him also. But you know him. It won’t make him happy. He will laugh, smile and thank me profusely, but it won’t mean anything to him.’ Oblivious to the irate looks of the owner, both ladies exited the boutique and sat down at the coffee shop. ‘So what is it that you think he will like?’ ‘I… Hmmmmmmmmm… I can think of books only. I mean, he does buy other things, but still… Only books make him happy.’ ‘Please don’t tell me he’s been gifting you books for your last four birthday’s’ ‘Haha. No no. He is very thoughtful when it comes to shopping for me. Last year you know, he got me this pendant. I absolutely loved it. And that is all the more reason I want to give him something meaningful. Last b’day I gifted him a Rolex. He wears it every day till now, but I swear he wouldn’t notice if I replaced it with something Chinese.’ ‘Uffo! Listen, Reshma. I’ll tell you the best gift you can give him.’ Nandini whispered conspiratorially into her best friend’s ear and saw the colour rise in Reshma’s cheeks. Both of them ended up giggling rather loudly before Reshma caught her breath. ‘That is anyway on the cards, but still – I can’t call it a gift.’ ‘Ohhh. Get him a book then. Something exquisite – like a first edition of his favourite book or something.’ ‘Seriously? A book somehow feels very, you know, dull. The kind you gift to a teacher, not to your spouse. And there is no personal touch.’ Both ladies sipped their cold coffee’s in silence and wracked their brains – they loved this part of shopping immensely. Nandini suddenly took an extra-large gulp and waved excitedly. Eureka! ‘Listen, write him something.’ ‘Whaaat?’ ‘Write him. You know. A love letter.’ ‘In case you forgot, I’m no author.’ ‘No idiot. I’m sure he will like it. I know you can also write well. I’m pretty sure he won’t expect it either. Just write 3-4 pages on what you’ve liked about the last five years. It’ll be oh-so-romantic.’ ‘Hmmmm. I’m not sure. He might like it. But still, I’ll be anxious. What if he’s a bit underwhelmed? I mean, it is just a letter.’ ‘Make it more than a letter. Make it a monument to your love. Your written Taj Mahal. Just as a backup, buy a book also. Then gift him both. Even if the letter flops, the book is still there.’ ‘Hmmmmmmm. That does sound good.’ -- For the next three weeks, Reshma spent every hour she could spare from work in front of a laptop – typing, retyping, editing, rephrasing and on the whole condensing the highs and lows from five years of marriage. What she liked about him, his mannerisms that she loved, quirks she found endearing and all the things that he did that made her feel special. It wasn’t easy, but by the 44th draft, she felt she had managed to convey what she felt. E-Bay helped her locate a signed edition of ‘The Atlas Shrugged’ and she wrapped it carefully and in secrecy. She then copied her words from the laptop onto art paper in her neat and precise handwriting. The letter was then carefully folded and placed inside a rather expensive perfumed envelope. She set the alarm at 4am and sneaked around the house, placing the letter and the gift-wrapped book on his table and sneaked back under the covers. Every second of the next two hours felt like a lifetime as she waited for her husband to wake up. ‘Happpyyy birthdayyy. Go check the table. I’ve kept something for you’, she whispered into his ear. Her husband grinned sheepishly like a 10 year old and ran to the hall while she waited anxiously for his return. She hadn’t been this expectant in a very long time. It took a good ten minutes, but when he returned, she could tell he loved her letter just by looking at his eyes. They seemed to glow with love and gratitude as he wrapped her in a passionate and wordless embrace. She hadn’t thought it was possible, but she now loved him more than she had described in her letter. -- It was late afternoon when she finally headed to the bath – grinning widely. She pinged Nandini about the success of the letter and turned the shower on. The warm water from the shower and her husbands reaction to the letter made her euphoric and she sang or rather, gurgled her favourite tune. She was drying her hair and mentally deciding what to wear to dinner when she heard his voice. ‘Reshma. Reshmaaaa. What is this envelope below the book?’
Posted on: Wed, 16 Jul 2014 13:01:23 +0000