Love blossoms..

Every Sunday for many years as I could remember I used to wait at the entrance of my church for that Corolla which stopped there. And then as the doors open a smiling grandma in her pastel shaded sari n grandpa in his spotless white mundu emerged, the wide smiles on their face as they gave each other a moment's glance, a few words exchanged, sometimes a laugh and finally the entry to the church. They looked more like siblings than husband and wife each glowing in the others light. I never managed to ask them what was special about their love. But I could see that over years and years it had grown and molded into an inseparable bond.
He was never the perfect man, but over the years, she said, she had grown to learn what he liked and adjust to it. Life was devoid of all the romance that movies and books talked about but then it wasn't a life she wanted either. She toiled at home without much of an expectation accepting all she got as the greatest gift from God. It would never have been a perfect life, no life is. But every single time I see them both hand in hand as two little kids who look over one another, I get the hope that perfection can be created. A little bit of letting go on either side, patience and the will to see through everything together will make any journey much wonderful. And over the years it grows into something beautiful.. if only you try.