Jalebis And Stars

Dada was sitting on the balcony, looking at the twinkling stars that come out once in a while. He had a faint smile on his wrinkled face. "Dada," I called out to him. But he seemed lost in the stars.

"Dada," I shook him gently by the shoulder, "Let's go in, Dada. It's getting cold."

"Some more time, Somu," he said, just as a child who would plead for some more playtime. "Sit with me, Somu," he tugged at my hand, "The stars are bright tonight."

One can't say no to Dada, he's got the sweetest smile and the most innocent face. It's not untrue when it's said that as they get older, they turn more childlike. 

I sat next to him. He was again busy gazing at the stars. I wondered what's up there? Every night, he would come out into the balcony and look upward, and when he could spot them, he would sit long admiring them.

"You love stars, don't you?" I asked. 

"It was your Dadi. She would often sit looking at stars. I would just tag along," Dada replied. "She would gaze at the stars and I would gaze at her," he smiled shyly. I couldn't help but smile back.

Dada and Dadi's love story was legendary. They were married for fifty six years before Dadi broke his heart and left. "Tell me something about you and Dadi," I asked him, "something that I don't know already."

"Dadi loved jalebis. She could eat a ton of them and still remain sane." We both laughed. This fact was well known in the family. "I would get her jalebis almost every evening. My father wouldn't approve of eatables from outside. So I would hide them in my bag. Then, later in the night, we would sit at the open window of our room, look at stars and eat jalebis. One day, the packet was loosely tied and the syrup from the jalebis spilled all over my office papers. I got a earful from my boss about it. Then your Dadi forbid me to bring any more." Dada sounded sad that the affair of the jalebi came to an end.

 

"Then I had a brainwave. I would get other eatables. Pakora, kachori, ladoo, samosa, everyday something new." He winked. "Our after-dinner snack wasn't interrupted. In fact, it became more interesting, as every evening Dadi would wait for me wondering what I would bring today. And I couldn't wait to get home to surprise her." He smiled, nostalgia enveloping him. 

"We kept this ritual going through the years. That one hour of we-time was the foundation of our strong relationship. We shared the snacks, laughed, joked, looked at the stars; in short, it was the best time of the day for either of us. We would get through the day, however hectic or unforgiving it was, because we had our we-time to look forward to. We grew closer. We bonded better."

"So this was your secret of your long stable marriage?" I asked.

Dada nodded and smiled. "Marriages are made in Heaven, but are packaged on Earth. And remember, it's we who do the packing."