Inspired by a true story.
Narendra was a dynamic man, known far and wide for his gift of the gab and his dazzling, well-kept beard outshining his minimum academic degree. Defeating a rather impoverished, fatherless background, he managed to build a reputation for himself in influential circles outside his own professional one.
When he came of a prime age, he was married to one Geetika, of the Mukherjee clan. They were renowned caterers of the town. Of the four sisters, this was the most charismatic. She wore sleeveless blouses with her sarees and tied her petticoat well below her navel. She sang songs from hindi films and sat behind the cash counter when her mother could not manage the shop. She had agreed to Narendra because of that strange thing called love. They met, and their respective hormones underwent an upheaval. They married and were happy, truly. Till one of her kidneys failed, without a warning.
In such times as those, Vellore was the place for magical recuperation. Unfortunately, even Vellore failed to help her survive. The marriage thus, died. It didn't get to last a year. Narendra was crestfallen.
Today, he is a good husband to Gitanjali, Geetika's immediate younger sister. They fight, but not as much as in other households fights are known as. Their marriage is nearing its thirty fifth year. And they are good parents to their only daughter.
Over a survey conducted on Gitanjali, concerning retirement plans, held from Hague over phone, the daughter was surprised to find out that her parents were actually in love with each other. Even though she had so long believed it to be a mere habit. This she found out because of the blind faith her mother had on her father over finances and investments and the little she knew about how things ran.
'Wow Mom! What love!' joked Sunayana.
'Do I have a choice?' replied Gitanjali. In good spirit.
A lifelong act. For, what is life, but a long act?
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