We started talking on FB when I was 21 and she was 19, but let's ignore borderline pedophilia for the sake of misplaced romanticism. She was my sister's friend's sister (what do you mean that's creepy?)

Anyway, I was watching my friends turn into a brigade of brown chaddi terrorists back in Nagpur, while she was living her best life in Bombay. Cut to 3 months later, we met and I tried impressing her so hard, by making up stories about women who liked me.

My chaddi friends were right about girls from South Bombay being dense as fuck, because she liked it. Or it could be the fact that she was barely an adult with an underdeveloped frontal lobe. Anyway, on our third meeting, I asked her out and she said it was too soon.

I had moved to Bombay by then and persistently met her every day. Few weeks later, we were on a drive and she drops this bomb that she was expecting a kiss. I was stunned, as anyone would be.

My Nagpur ass knew only one way to react, and that was to scream 'Yes!' using so much of my lung power that even coronavirus would have muttered jesus fucking christ, and do a victory dance, which she seemed to enjoy. I'm glad that she had a type and that type was incel.

But later that year she moved to New York, and the time difference got to us, more than my inherent fear that she was doing white dudes while I slept here in Chembur. We fought a lot, and sometimes ended up not speaking for 10 days at a stretch.

I used this time to find someone new on Tinder, and when she finally got fed up with my behavior and texted that it was over, I replied with 'OK'. This was also the time when I listened to the Kabir Singh soundtrack on loop for days. What a movie, what a character.

5 months later, the women on Tinder realised how much of a moron I am, and this was an incredibly difficult period in my life. Did you get that? AN INCREDIBLY DIFFICULT PERIOD OKAY. The definition of struggle can't invalidate my personal experiences fuck you.

So I texted her asking if she wanted to get back with me, because I knew that no self-respecting individual would do that. But this is where life surprises you. She didn't ask me to fuck off, and instead welcomed me with open arms.

I don't know what is with these girls who go to NYU and LSE, but do you have to donate braincells to get in there, and then come back with an accent and everything that's wrong with the diaspora?. Sorry for being articulate there for a second. I digress.

5 years down the line, she gets back to India, and on her first week back, I propose with a, wait for it, knock-knock joke. Please don't throw up in your mouth, but it went like this:

Knock knock
Who's there?
Will
Will who
Will who marry me?

She didn't get married to will who

Sorry for that joke. Anyway back to the story.

At this point, this is more of a social experiment than a relationship, but she says yes to *that proposal* also. That was the moment when I understood what Sir Alex Ferguson felt when he said 'Football, bloody hell.'

In 11 months, we got married, and she has not left me (yet) even after enduring my complete lack of expression throughout. It is cute how she thinks that making breakfast once a year or baking a shitty cake is me trying to put effort into the relationship.

In conclusion, all I have to say is that unconditional love is possible. All it needs is a red flag of a man and a hopelessly colourblind woman who never give up on each other.

I tried, but could never really match up to the cringe of the original.