I grew up fancing about a true soul mate. I am a backdated fellow still believing in commitment and lifelong relationships. I eagerly waited for my Valentine. My feelings often get their expression through poems.

I was that awkward guy who could not make progress in a relationship even when the other person made appropriate gestures. 

The time passed quickly. In my thirties, my hairline started receding, taking a toll on my confidence. With growing age, my friend circle also shrank. So making relationships was getting tougher by the day. 

I came to know about a matrimonial site from a friend. Out of desperation, I tried my hand at that. I got a few contacts. I chatted with a few candidates for a couple of days, but nothing materialised. 

Adding to my agony, one of our neighbourhood aunty come up with a prospective candidate. On first day of chat with her, I understood that she was probably in a relationship. But I was not able to explain this to my parents, who still live in the black-and-white era. I slowly went into depression. 

In such a situation, one of my senior colleagues came up with a proposal for a girl. I was still willing to give myself a chance. One evening I got a call, supposedly from the mother of the girl, and she asked a few common things. After mother, the girl took over and, in a strict voice, asked my height. I was a little bit surprised and asked her height in a return question with a giggle. She answered, “5 feet and 7 inches." I said that in that case, I am taller than her. She seems to have only one question to ask, as she passed the phone to her mother. 

I saved the number and sent a message on WhatsApp. We exchanged a few messages that night. Her raw simplicity of words assures me of her intention. We chatted for a week before she asked me to visit her home. The casualness of her tone eased my pressure. 

I was very averse to formal meetings for marriage. Where two unknown people meet in the presence of families with sweets and tea on the table. This time, I play it smart. I do not disclose anything to my parents. 

Next Friday, I was supposed to visit her. She was living with her mother in a government quarter. She is a nurse by profession. By God's grace, I never had any prejudice about any profession.

I had a plan to carry flowers for the first visit. After the office, my colleague took me to her quarter, which was within walking distance of my office. My colleague was not impressed by my decision to visit her without my family. So, I suppressed my desire to buy flowers. 

There are some days when you become your true self. That was the day for me. I was not burdened by any expectations. She entered the room as per the script with a tray full of sweets and cold drinks in her hand. I took the tray from her hand and asked her to sit by my side. Her mother intervened and made her sit in a chair at a two hand distance from me. 

She wore a blue saree with her hair tied in the back. Her appearance was like that of a traditional Bengali girl. I readily liked her. 

I alone steered the conversation; she reciprocated with minimal words. I took two pieces of sweets and one glass of cold water. As I was talking, her eyes were conveying her decision. 

At last, her mother asked me to stand by her side to match height. I crossed her by only a few inches. As I was putting my shoes on for leaving her home, her mother asked about my decision. I answered in the positive. 

I rushed to catch the train, and while I was returning, she sent me a joke on WhatsApp. This is the story of our first meeting.