October 13, 2023

My dearest,

No need to bring an umbrella, you tell me, as we get ready to head out for dinner. We will be fine.

Barely a few minutes after reaching our regular Japanese hole-in-the-wall and ordering our usual – spinach in goma sauce, tonkatsu, fried rice, chicken nanban – we hear the thunder and the skies opening up.

The rain will die down by time we are done with dinner, you tell me, as our cups of hot green tea arrive.

Naturally, the rain decides to continue unabated. And there is no excuse to stay for dessert as they have run out of our favourite strawberry daifuku.

Let’s just run back and take a hot shower afterwards, you say, reassuringly. I am not convinced but marriage is about “wherever you go, I shall follow” and so I do.

As we race home in the pelting rain, you ask me, “Isn’t this romantic?”

And I remember the morning of our first anniversary, so many years ago, as we strolled through the park huddled beneath a single umbrella, when I asked you the same question: “Isn’t this romantic?”

Your answer then was a curt: “Hurry up, I’m getting wet!”

Life comes in seasons and cycles. Love is patience and faith.

It only took me a decade and half before I could say the same to you too: “Hurry up, I’m getting wet!”

Yours, ever and always.