There were reasons for my quick decision—some practical, some selfish. First, my brother’s visit made it an ideal time for a significant event. My mother’s health added urgency. But above all, I was captivated by the idea of having someone who would love me unconditionally—a partner to share both happiness and burdens. I never saw it as taking on more responsibility; instead, I welcomed the idea of mutual care and companionship. 

After meeting the girl, I set two conditions. First, the wedding had to happen before my brother left India. Second, I wouldn’t consider anyone else—I didn’t want to raise the girl’s hopes only to disappoint her. 

In those days, it was rare for couples to speak in private before marriage. However, her siblings—who were arranging the marriage in the absence of her late parents—allowed us a brief conversation in a room, though with open doors and occasional interruptions. All I said to her was, “I have two younger sisters who need to be married. It will be our responsibility.” She nodded, and that was it. 

Bank officers were sought-after grooms back then, and her family didn’t want to lose the opportunity. They quickly arranged the wedding before my brother’s departure, securing a venue and organizing everything at lightning speed. 

The function went off smoothly. Friends, family, and colleagues from both sides attended, creating a festive atmosphere. The reception was lively, with music by A.V. Ramanan, a popular singer at the time. My brother left the day after the wedding, with emotions running high as none of us knew when we’d meet again. 

The wedding invitation, designed by my brother, was unique for its time—just one of the many things that made the event memorable. 

I found my life partner that day. Why call her my “better half” when she’s more than that? She’s my everything, as you’ve seen from my earlier posts. Whatever decision I made in a hurry turned out to be the best and wisest one. 

And that’s the story of our wedding. 

Contd. 362. Half Is Full - Part 3