39 years

"Do you love me?" I heard, sixty five year old Murthy aunty asking uncle. Uncle almost chocked and coughed at that. And then he replied, "Yes… I do". "If you do, let me go to my brother's house for a week," Aunty replied. I could hear the conversation through their slightly open bedroom door. I could only smile. I was staying at the Murthy residence in Chennai to attend a marriage function of a friend. Murthy uncle and aunty had been our neighbours at my parents' house. They have been close family friends for close to 30 years now.

Aunty came out after a while, muttering to herself and complaining to me. "He has grown so old and yet behaves so childish. We have spent 39 years of life together and yet some basic things have not yet changed. Even at this age I need to ask his permission to go to my own home. I am not going to any stranger's house. I am only going to my brother's place!" she said.

I nodded sympathetically at aunty, while suppressing my smile. But I was also overwhelmed. 39 years was a long long time. I have been married for 10 and I knew what a marriage was. For all the love, beauty and fun marriage is, it could be a real struggle sometimes. Marriage like any other commitment needed constant introspection and evolving. For a "young" marriage like mine, I atleast had the liberty to complain and compare with other couples every time I was faced with a conflict.

But 39 years is a longer time. It meant that uncle and aunty have been together for a far more years than the years they have been with the people who have brought them into this world. They have been each other’s friend and guide to the huge unknown maze called life. They have nurtured each other and grown in these 39 years.

Clang! Clung! I hear Uncle take food on his own noisily. I smile. I hear their bedroom door bang shut and another argument between the two of them behind the closed doors. I close my room’s door and go off to sleep. I know like all other conversations this one will get resolved too. After all I have never heard any argument between the two of them go beyond the night. Mornings were always a fresh start again.

" Kowsalya supraja Rama poorva sandhya pravarthathe... " I can hear the "suprabhatham" being sung on the CD player as I lazily rub my eyes. “Did you have your BP tablets?” I can hear the concern in his voice, as uncle calls out to aunty. I can hear morning coffee being lovingly placed on the coffee table in the drawing room. I shake myself awake. I lean against the drawing room window and watch the two of them.

Uncle has a newspaper in one of his hands, and a cup of coffee in the other. Aunty is enjoying the morning breeze as she is sipping the coffee sitting on the cane chair in front of uncle. They are smiling as they are talking to each other.

Love, comfort and peace was written all over their face.

"Soulmates and life-mates," I think.

I smile to myself.