Love, as often depicted in movies and novels, is a grand affair; full of passionate declarations, dramatic moments, and happily-ever-afters. But the reality of love, as seen through the lens of a long and enduring marriage, is quite different. It is not a single defining moment but a series of choices made every day, through the mundane and the extraordinary. Observing my parents’ marriage, I realised that love was not about constant excitement but about a quiet, steady companionship—one that weathers the seasons of life with resilience and grace.
Growing up in a world where dating apps make connections instant and fleeting and where social media bombards us with highlight reels of perfect relationships, I often wondered how my parents’ love story fit into this landscape. Their love wasn’t about grand gestures or viral-worthy moments—it was in the quiet hum of daily life, in the rituals and rhythms that made up their world. It was in the way my mother would place a glass of water next to my father’s bedside before he even thought to ask and in how my father would silently take over the household chores on days when my mother was too exhausted to keep up. Their loveis not loud or dramatic, but it is ever-present—woven into the fabric of their everyday life, evident in the smallest gestures that speak volumes. It is in the unspoken understanding of each other’s needs, in the knowing glances exchanged across a crowded room, and in the unwavering presence they offer one another, even in silence.
As someone from Generation Z, where relationships often seem fleeting and transactional, I found myself grappling with the idea of commitment. The modern world offers options, distractions, and an easy way out when things get difficult. My parents’ marriage, however, stands in stark contrast. It is built on patience, mutual respect, and the understanding that love is a practice, not just a feeling. “Love is not about keeping score,” my mother once told me. “You don’t love someone based on what they do for you. You love them because you’ve chosen to, every day, no matter what.” Those words lingered with me, challenging my own understanding of love.
Victoria Beckham once said, “When I get home, I try to put the phone down and spend time with the children and spend time with David. I have the support of an incredible husband. We really are equal with everything we do at home with the children. When I’m away, he’s the one doing the school and doing the cooking.” Her words reinforced what I had witnessed at home, a marriage where both partners shoulder responsibilities, where love manifests in actions, and where true partnership is about lifting each other up, not weighing each other down.
Jaya Bachchan echoed a similar sentiment when she said, “I married a good man and a family that believes in commitment. You must not get too possessive, especially in our profession, where you know things aren’t going to be easy. You can either drive the artiste crazy or you can help him or her grow.” Her words resonated with me as I reflected on my parents’ marriage, a space where both individuals were allowed to evolve without the fear of losing one another.
These sentiments resonate with me, not just as someone who grew up witnessing love unfold in a slow and steady rhythm but as a Gen Z individual navigating modern relationships. We are a generation that values independence yet craves deep, meaningful connections. We romanticise the idea of effortless love, but my parents’ marriage taught me that love is anything but effortless, it requires work, patience, and an active choice to stay.
My parents’ love has never been about grand romantic gestures. There are usually no extravagant anniversary gifts or dramatic speeches. Instead, their love is found in the small, consistent acts of care; my father ensuring my mother never leaves the house without breakfast, despite both of them juggling demanding careers. He makes sure she has something to eat before rushing out the door in the early hours, a quiet acknowledgment of care that never wavered over 25 years. My mother, in turn, always makes sure my father feels supported in his ambitions, encouraging his growth just as he encourages hers. Their marriage is not about performative romance but about a deep, enduring partnership. They celebrate each other’s wins, pick each other up in moments of failure, and never limit their affection to anniversaries or special occasions. Love, for them, is in the everyday moments—the last bite of a favorite dish saved for the other, the late-night conversations that softened the edges of long days, and the comfort of knowing that no matter what, they are always in each other’s corner.
Perhaps the most poignant words come from my paternal grandmother (dadi), who has been married for over sixty years. She reminisced about her younger days with my grandfather, recalling the small, tender moments that made up their life together. “Love isn’t just about looking at each other; it’s about looking ahead together,” she said with a wistful smile. “There were times when we were angry, when life was difficult, when we lost people we loved. But we always faced it together. There were days we hardly spoke, but we always made sure to share a meal. There were nights when we didn’t see eye to eye, but he always left the night light on for me, just the way I liked it. I still remember how he’d hum old songs while reading the newspaper and how he’d grumble about the weight of my grocery bags but never let me carry them. That’s what love is—it’s choosing to stand side by side, even when the road is rough.” My grandfather passed away over 25 years ago, but even today, my dadi speaks of him not in grief, but in gratitude, cherishing the life they built together.
Through these reflections, I realise that love is not an abstract ideal, nor is it something that simply happens. It is a commitment—one made through countless small moments, difficult conversations, and thorough support. In a time when love often feels fleeting and disposable, my parents’ marriage is a reminder to me that the deepest bonds are the ones that are chosen, nurtured, and fought for, every single day.
