Over-the-top Bollywood movies have messed with our minds. We grew up with grand ideas of what love would look like—romantic dinners, surprise getaways, sparkling expensive gifts. However, I recently witnessed a quieter, more profound kind of love that changed my perspective on it forever.
My mother was sick for a while. Nothing dramatic, but enough to keep us awake for a few nights. During that time, my dad became her constant companion—reading articles on her symptoms, watching videos about remedies, and learning anything he could to help her feel better. He sat by her side, brought her tea, prepared new kaadhas, held her hand, and stayed present. All of this comes from someone who hasn’t set foot in the kitchen for 60 years. All of this comes from someone who would never read a book to save his life.
That is when it struck me: love is not always loud or flashy. Love does not need to be shown. Sometimes, it is in the quiet research done late at night. Sometimes, it is holding a hand and staying close without needing to say a word.
Love, I realized, isn’t in the big gestures—it’s in the small, steady acts of care that say: I’m here, and I won’t leave your side.
Of Sun and Sand 