Your dreams are not yours alone !!!

You asked her to make do in a one-room apartment, She did.

You got up at three to watch the world cup, She made tea.

You never had to worry. About your health, your mom, your kids. She did.

You were too busy to call everyday. She understood.

You sometimes forgot to say , "I love you."She never forgot.

When she cried, she cried alone. Whenever you cried she cried with you.

Your dreams are not yours alone. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .



Thus went the advertisement of Union Bank of India - Good people to bank with.


My money was safe with Union bank of india. And it was amusing to find the half page advertisement of the bank I most trusted on the first page of my morning newspaper. In my admiration of the bank and the advt. I forgot one other important thing. That Union bank of india was not the only bank managing my dreams. There was another, boiling tea in the kitchen and burning hands to cook the breakfast.


A look at today's date said that today was the date when i first opened my account in Union bank of India, the date when I first learnt to fill up a form and deposit money in the bank at the age of 17. The date when i saw her for the first time - standing in the line next to me. Today was the date, years ago, that I fell in love.


It was the same date when I built up enough courage to try and talk to her. I slid the pen I'd brought inside my pocket and asked her for one. She generously lent it. However I had a tough time filling the already filled up form. I saw that I'd missed the date. I asked her the date. She thought I was dumb. I couldnt fare much better. She in all this melodrama forgot the pen she'd lent me. I couldnt be happier.


Over the next few days I paid regular visits to the bank, I was ready with the pen and a few rehearsed dialogues. Much to my disappointment she did not turn up. And gradually my frequency of visits also declined. But whenever I went I scanned the bank completely.She must be cursing me for the loss of a costly pen.


Years passed. I completed my engineering. Posted at kolkata with a reputed firm and a respectable pay I grew busy in work. My salary was linked with Union bank of India. An ATM in front of my one-room apartment was the source for me. But one day I had to go to the bank to manually withdraw because the ATM wasnt working.


After a long wait in the line, I finally reached the counter. Whom should I see there behind the cash counter but her. Yeah the same cute one that lent me the pen. She didnt remember me. I didnt think excavating old facts would please the busy banker or the ones standing behind me. I left the counter normally, almost raided my room to find the Epic pen and finally found it tucked in my dairy.


I waited for her to get out of the bank that evening. After waiting in the senior citizen lounge in the bank for an hour, she finally came out. I approached her with the pen. She thought i was a salesman. It took some time to remind her of the whole episode. She still thought i was dumb. A few minutes spent discussing the old town, another few minutes spent discussing the arrival in this town. In those few minutes I understood that I was drifting.


Friendship followed. Love traversed. Marriage succeeded. Responsibilities sprang up. Life just continued. Home - Office - Home - Office. Over the years something was lost. It was the same morning tea she had always made but slowly we dint have it together. We no longer watched movies in a theatre unlike the once upon times. Calls on the phone no longer cost as much now. Year after year we spent lesser times in form of vacations or eating out. There was no strife or quarrel but it just happened. A slow and steady decline not in love but in showing affection.


This paper advertisement has reminisced some fond memories. After all life can never be lived alone. Someone intentionally or unintentionally, with your knowledge or without lives with you. No part of the life is completely yours alone. Of course our dreams are not ours alone.


She came into the verandah to give me my morning tea. I caught her hand before holding the the cup and gestured her to sit down. Today she can think is another day I grew dumb. Doesnt matter. Love is for everyone. Who said old people cant love? Atleast Cheeni kum was one of the movies we watched. The only sad thing was that she burnt the breakfast on the day we rediscovered love.