Hello. I’m back and I’ve got good news and bad news.
The good news is that recently, on a moonlit night, sitting on a Parisian bench, opposite the Louvre, I fell on one knee with a ring in open palm, facing the girl.
She smiled and said "Ofcourse yes". But not before she took her time.
The bad news is that that apparently means I’m engaged.
Ok I lie, it’s all good news.
And then we went gallivanting across that food and wine flavoured land of the French and drank in it's "live the easy life" obsession. We had cognac in Cognac, crepes covered in nutella in Montmartre and more than is lawfully allowed of our share of croissants, pain au chocolate and coffee. We lived in a chateau inside a vineyard, hosted by a real Count and his Countess, one who's great grandfather commanded the Scindia's army in India.
And more, much more.
Now I'm back in my tiny Manhattan apartment, she's sipping her chai in her Delhi house and we're talking and laughing about the last 2 weeks.
It's raining here and as I call time out to step out and grab a cup of joe's almost french coffee, I can't help but sing.