The Proposal

Perhaps all the signs were there that John was going to propose on this trip. Some friends thought it would happen in London in February, others at the Taj Mahal when John first arrived in India. Being so far from home, I was unaware of the wagers being placed back in DC.

Our tour of the south of India began last Saturday; after flying to Trivandrum, the capital of Kerala, we drove down the coast to the southernmost tip of the Indian peninsula, to a town called Kanyakumari, where the waters of the Indian Ocean, the Bay of Bengal, and the Arabian Sea meet. An important pilgrimage site as well, we maneuvered through the crowds on the beach waiting for the sun to set. All eyes were set on the horizon, and we watched the sun disappear over the waters where Mahatma Gandhi’s ashes were immersed.

The next morning we awoke late, unable to motivate to see the sunrise, and headed for Varkala. We stopped along the way at Kovalam Beach before making it to the red sand cliff beaches of Varkala. Little did I know that John had intended to propose in Kanyakumari with the sunrise; the symbolism-laden time and place would surely have made a lovely proposal story, but the cloudy sunrise and my unwillingness to wake up and less-than-sunny morning demeanor negated that option.

From Varkala we traveled to Alleppey to board our houseboat that would take us through the famous backwaters of Kerala, which is aptly known as “god’s own country.” The day was perfectly relaxing and scenic – the backwaters, although they have recently become increasingly populated as the tourist scene is growing in the south, function as canals divided by thin strips of land. Since it is the low season, the waterways weren’t clogged with too many other houseboats.


We sailed calmly down the canals, helping the captain to steer the boat, eating deliciously-prepared tiger prawns and fresh veggies, bird watching and relishing our vacation time together. After the sun set, we ate more scrumptious food. After dinner, I turned away from John to put something in my camera bag, and when I turned around John was staring at me. Odd, I thought. Perhaps too much Kingfisher for John? I remember hearing the words “perfect for each other” and then the rest was jumbled until the “will you marry me?” came out of his mouth. Somewhere between those two phrases I think I realized what was happening. I think I said something like “are you serious?” (some of you know John’s proclivity for “fake” proposing by getting down on one knee… “Carolyn, will you… pass the salt?” I know - warped sense of humor). After realizing that he was in fact serious this time, he surprised me even further by producing a ring from his pocket. Although we had discussed not spending money on an engagement ring, I now cherish the new blingity bling on my left hand!



The details of the proposal from John’s side are quite endearing – the fake search for coffee early that morning so he could call my parents, buying the ring in India, writing drafts of the proposal on his desktop in a folder labeled as a work document so I wouldn’t open it…

Like I said at the beginning, I guess all the signs should have been there. On this trip, I was re-reading Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s Love in the Time of Cholera in an attempt to find a quote to read at the marriage of a close friend this fall. I finished the book on board the houseboat and asked John if I could read the ending to him. The end of the book finds the protagonists traveling along the waterways, content in their newfound love, meandering down the river at an unhurried pace, savoring each other’s company.

The Captain looked at Fermina Daza and saw on her eyelashes the first glimmer of wintry frost. Then he looked at Florentino Ariza, his invincible power, his intrepid love, and he was overwhelmed by the belated suspicion that it is life, more than death, that has no limits.
“And how long do you think we can keep up this goddamn coming and going?” he asked.
Florentino Ariza had kept his answer ready for fifty-three years, seven months, and eleven days and nights.
“Forever,” he said.

John’s proposal is now written in the front of the book. Although I have had my answer ready for far less time than the fifty-three years of Florentino's wait, it was always, unquestionably, without a doubt, a “yes.”




** Click below for more photos from my Picasa Album:

South India Tour with John (June 2009)