That’s how I start the morning of 14th February. Not with a kiss from my husband, but with flowers that start arriving early morning from all my boyfriends. And I take pride in making my husband jealous (at least I think I do, though later I find I hadn’t) when before leaving for office he sees our living room half full with bunches of orchids and lilies and not roses. But he proves to be smarter, by offering a lone rose from our garden, to stand out from the rest. I cry out, “Afterthought!” He says he forgot the date just like he forgets our anniversary date every year. And yes, he still hasn’t realized I do not love roses as much as I do lilies.
A Valentine’s Short Story
But in doing so, he somehow endorses the absolute truth on which our married life is based – that every day is about romance and a celebration of what we believe to be eternal love. Really, what’s in a V-Day after all? When every morning my husband fights with our adolescent son over who will give me the morning kiss first; when on weekends we toil away in our garden together growing flowers and admiring them; when on Sundays he tries hard to make a breakfast of half-burnt, toasted sandwiches and omelets that never come with the right amount of salt; I ask myself, “Do we really need a V-Day to prove that this man who has been a constant in my life, loves me? Our everyday is a new chapter of Valentine’s day stories.”
But I enjoy the attention
That being said, I will not deny that I love the pampering I get from friends as well. I like it when they show affection to me in their own unique and sappy ways. On a hilarious note, my personal diary carries a headline: “Flirting after 40 is healthy. It keeps you alive and evergreen.” I don’t mind indulging in it, exploring my die-hard romantic side. On a quest for this connect I never say no to picnic lunches and candle-lit dinner invites on Valentine’s Day. Though most of my male friends live in other cities, there are a few who live here as well. Thankfully, none of the ones who live in the same city are married, thus helping me to avoid the guilt of depriving their spouses to their rightful V-Day dinners, thus becoming the villain in their Valentine’s Day love stories. Or maybe, they also have dates with others? A quirky Valentine’s Day bouquet arrives without a name sometimes, and once I even played Miss Marple investigating the source, and amazingly found it came from my ex-boss, always known to be a workaholic divorcee. Valentine’s Day has always unveiled surprises for me. I have so many Valentine’s Day stories up my sleeve.
I have some very eventful Valentine’s day stories
Coming back to my most precious V-Day memory. I had been invited to a romantic candlelit dinners, where I landed up hoping for a funny intellectual chat with a man. I soon realized that a whole gang of men had been invited, including my husband. It was almost like being surrounded by a gang of bulls, me, the lone simpering cow…romantic dreams melting into playful banter. I couldn’t help but suspect at times that it must have been my husband’s V-Day idea, for he knows all the male friends in my life, and must have floated the idea of a joint venture. Driving back home, he never held my hand and I complained, “So this year too, you forgot the date and came on someone else’s invite.” He smiled at me and said, “I know February is a difficult month for you, my darling. You lost someone you loved dearly and his birthday clashes with this date.” (Yes, I lost my younger brother in February; he was a spring child and only 12-years old.) “I did not want to make you emotional by sitting with you alone in some restaurant. I just want to see you happy with friends around. You deserve love and you deserve to be celebrated”, he said endearingly. It was the most beautiful note to end any Valentine story with! There was nothing left for me to say at the end of V-Day. It was the greatest V-Day gift one could ever get – understanding the ‘inner’ me and loving me for the same.
