My Date

By October 22, 2014 Closer No Comments

DNA Column April 2015

My hubby came to Mumbai last weekend. To talk about dates.

Unfortunately not of the romantic variety.

I’m the first to admit it, but I’m just vague with numbers and dates and anything which falls under that category of deliberate quantification. Counting in particular disturbs me no end. I simply don’t do the counting thing. I refuse to count leg press reps in the gym, and I’d rather paddle through the fjords of Norway dressed as a Viking than buy a fitbit- that evil device that counts the number of steps you take in a day.

Naturally this extends to schedules and the like. There is just something in me that resists talking about concrete plans, even when tickets have been booked and paid for and airport drop offs have been programmed into my iphone calendar.

My husband knows this. He is also a very patient and astute man. And so he has made a date with me and flown down from Hong Kong for the weekend as I’m plunging into some new film projects and he wants to discuss….dates.

‘So, when do you start filming. Are you excited?’IMG_7536

‘Yes. Very.’ I am smiling winningly and while licking latte foam off my lips to distract him from the fact I’ve only addressed half of his question, I nervously bite down and draw blood.

He hands me a tissue.

‘So…when do you finish filming?’

‘Soon.’ I’m pressing the tissue to my mouth. My leg is jiggling beneath the table.

The truth is I work in a business where the ground beneath my feet is never solid and dates change- and that’s the only consistency. My husband on the other hand is my bridge to wholeness, solidity and…some might say, sanity. And he most definitely does not occupy a world where ‘mood’ or ‘vibe’ or ‘last minute date change’ play any role.

He has gently coaxed me into booking vacations months in advance and then not cancelling last minute either. Which is a quantum leap for me personally. Now if he can only get a handle on my work/travel plans. And when we will see each other next.

In my defence, this date phobia does not solely lie with me. An indie film producer recently shared, ‘my friends joked that my marriage is a miracle, as its the one and only time I committed to a date’

See, in my mind, the answer is: ‘as soon as possible my love, I will get on a plane and be by your side where I long to remain, but I am scared to articulate all this to you, as I know the very nature of the universe to be ever changing and full of emptiness…this is the ultimate lesson I have drawn from working in the entertainment industry in Mumbai and around the world.’

But of course I don’t say it.

Instead I lean forward and remove the bloody tissue.

‘Baby, what’s the longest journey you can take?’

If he is startled by this sudden turn in the conversation he doesn’t show it.

‘I don’t know…from here to Capetown?’ The not-so-veiled reference to my upcoming trip is delivered with a wry smile while picking bloody bits of tissue off my lip.

I lean back.

‘No baby.’ I draw an imaginary line from my head to the space of my heart. ‘From your mind to your heart. It’s the most important journey we can take as human beings…’

He smiles and while leaning forward to caress my cheek grabs my iphone with his other hand and scrolls through my calendar.

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