People all over the world write love letters, cards and little notes which express what they feel about their beloved. They text, upload pictures and share moments, which I would rather were preserved in my memory than in others' prying eyes. I know you expected me to do the same for you, to give you something, something that would remain with you as a fragment of my time with you. And I know, you expected me to write a poem for you, Niyati told me so. But I know, how your face crumbled when I gave you a red carnation - not even a rose - the eternal symbol of love - but a carnation, which to your eyes, appeared like a crumpled tissue paper. I gave you a kiss and went back to my work. You stood there, in a pink chiffon gown, waiting for me to notice you, but I did not react. I know you were hurt, but it was intentional, my love.
I will tell you the reason now. I noticed you. I noticed how beautiful your eyes looked; they twinkled when you heard me come in. I inhaled your Lilac and Musk perfume and felt extremely desirous of you. I noticed your hands were cold when I handed the single flower to you. That's when I saw the glimmer of hope, of something that I couldn't ignore. You wanted me to say something, something more than those three words, the overused, abused I love you. You wanted me to take your hand and sweep you off your feet and forget my writing for a minute. But I did what you really expected of me, to choose writing over you. But will you forgive me if I say that I have not been completely honest with you?
I must tell you that I have been thinking a lot for past few days and celebrating a Valentine's Day with you really didn't help. It has been agonizing for me to keep you on the hook for so long. I should have spoken up more, I should have told you three days back, on the Valentine’s Day, that we should stop the dress-up game. That we should really get on with our lives. That, I love you so and more, but it's not enough. I want something more too, like you do. They say, if you dream, you must follow it. If you find your purpose, you must follow it is what I remember you said, when I asked you whether I must go to London for the book launch. I was happy, delirious with the moment of bliss and success which was on its way. But I noticed another thing - the way your eyes didn’t shine with happiness, but with sadness and longing for something else. I notice you, you know, more than you will realize. You have been my Muse, you have been my lover and you have been a friend, a very dear friend. I must feel a lucky man. And I do.
So I thought I will write this to you. I know your heart is racing with the fear of unknown so known, uncertainty so certain that you are already imagining your life flashing with or without me. Don’t cry my love, for I said, I wanted something more. It is- for now and ever, YOU. You are irreplaceable, you are mine.
I am hoping you haven’t thrown the carnation away. If you watch, you will find others, from the lot, leading to your room. Follow them and you will find answer to all your questions. But I have one more to ask:
Will you marry me?