Our early chats tended to be slightly on the formal side. While I am fairly certain that it wasn’t as bad as - “Dear madam, Greetings. I am calling with reference to our chat last night, on the third of August, 2011. Note that we..” etc etc… I am not willing to bet on it.
During one of these chats, Rhine popped a question out of the blue - “You’re not very romantic, are you?“. It took me by surprise. I always thought I wasn’t remarkably romantic or unromantic. But I was wrong. Apparently, I was remarkably unromantic, clearly proved by the fact that it was remarked upon. I launched into a small rhetoric explaining how I am driven more by logic than by emotions, and that may be why she felt so. She said that it’s not a problem, and that she’s ok with it. But as it turns out, I wasn’t.
I needed to do something to let her know that I wasn’t as unromantic as all that. But what?? Valentine’s day was months away, so I ruled out valentine plans for the time being. Sending her a love letter felt as juvenile as it was cheesy. Serenading her on a moonlit night may sound like a good idea, but planning out a schedule on the lunar calendar was not my cup of tea. All the plans were further impeded by the fact that I was in the Middle East, and she was in India.
Pretty much the only thing I could do was to send her something by mail. So that was what I did. An online service through which I ordered one dozen red roses to her office address. Piece of cake, right? No. One dozen roses. I was very clear about that.
At that time, Rhine was just pondering over the best way to tell her office about her marriage. She had figured that the news can wait a bit, considering that the wedding was still months away. She could break it at her own pace, in her own words, in her own time… sound planning, except for the dozen inexplicable roses speeding her way. The arrival of ten red roses addressed to her created a slight office commotion… Who is this sender of roses, and what does he have to do with Rhine? It took several raised eyebrows and hushed murmurs before Rhine decided to opt for full disclosure.
She hasn’t questioned the romance since then. Of course, since then, our romance has grown diverse - bolder, stronger, and stranger. I have serenaded her over the internet, drawn her a portrait, wrote her short snippets of prose, and I’ve even played the guitar for her. She, for her part, has shown her love by bearing all these atrocities without complaint.
Some of you may have noticed a few paragraphs ago that the number of roses didn’t quite tally. It’s not a typo. I ordered for a dozen fresh red roses, but only 10 got delivered. Somewhere in transit, two got swallowed by the system. I don’t know if it’s the florist, the delivery guy, or any other staff who may have confiscated a floral commission, but we won’t stand for this. We’re still waiting for the two missing pieces.
