The Momma Clan

The aroma of jasmine and freshly brewed coffee hung in the air, a scent that always took me back to school days, to stolen glances across the classroom and whispered jokes during recess. Sunlight streamed through the window, warming my face, a gentle reminder of all the warmth love had brought into my life, especially the love that had blossomed right there, in the hallowed halls of our shared school in Delhi.

He was Tarun, the boy with the infectious grin and a talent for making even the most boring classes feel like an adventure. We were inseparable, partners in crime, sharing secrets, dreams, and a mutual dislike for well, almost everything academic, especially Mr. Rao’s dreaded math class. “I swear, those equations are designed to torture us,” Tarun would groan, dramatically clutching his forehead. And I had giggle, because I secretly felt the same way. We had spent hours huddled together, trying to decipher the mysteries of algebra, often resorting to creative (and usually incorrect) solutions. Our friendship was the foundation, the bedrock upon which our love story was built.

“You’re the only person who understands my terrible jokes,” he said, nudging me playfully.

And I had laugh, because it was true. He did understand me, in a way no one else did. We knew each other’s quirks, our strengths, and our insecurities. We had seen each other at our best and our worst, through awkward teenage phases and triumphant exam results.

From shared classrooms to dreams taking flight,

Our love story blossomed, shining so bright.

Through laughter and whispers, a bond so strong,

Where we belong, where we truly belong.

Our love was not a sudden explosion of passion; it was a slow, steady burn, a quiet understanding that grew stronger with each passing year. It was built on shared experiences, inside jokes about Mr. Rao and our disastrous math attempts, and a deep respect for each other.

“I can’t imagine life without you,” he confessed one rainy afternoon, our hands brushing as we shared an umbrella.

And I felt it too, that same undeniable connection. It was not just butterflies, it was a deep sense of belonging, a feeling that I had found my home.

From stolen glances to hearts intertwined,

Our love’s gentle melody, forever enshrined.

With trust and laughter, a bond so true,

A love like ours, forever we two.

We navigated the ups and downs of school together, celebrating each other’s successes and supporting each other through disappointments. We were each other’s cheerleaders, confidantes, and best friends.

Then came the day he proposed, under the same banyan tree where we had shared our first awkward kiss. It was simple, heartfelt, and perfect.

“Will you marry me?” he asked, his eyes shining with love.

And I said yes, without a moment’s hesitation. It felt right, inevitable, like coming home.

Love’s a journey, a beautiful ride,

Hand in hand, together we stride.

Through sunshine and laughter, our hearts take flight,

A love like ours, burning so bright.

Our wedding was a celebration of our journey, a gathering of friends and family who had witnessed our love story unfold. It was a day filled with joy, laughter, and the promise of a lifetime together.

Now, years later, the jasmine scent still evokes those cherished memories. Our love has grown and deepened, weathering the storms of life together. We have built a life filled with love, laughter, and the quiet comfort of knowing each other inside and out. We have faced challenges, celebrated triumphs, and grown together, always together.

He still makes me laugh, still understands my terrible jokes. And I still feel that same sense of belonging, that feeling that I have found my home in him. Our love story began in a classroom, but it is a story that continues to be written, every single day, with joy, laughter, and the unwavering belief that love, when built on friendship and understanding, is the most beautiful adventure of all.

Through school hallways and years yet to come,

Our love’s sweet melody, forever will hum.

Hand in hand, we will face whatever may be,

Our joyful love story, for all eternity.

-Bhawana Sethi