Love at the Cemetery

As I had mentioned earlier in more than one blog posts, I have never proposed or came close enough to doing the same. I have preferred to the loner. But as time flies, I only get older and almost everyone around me are getting married. May be it is time I decide to do that because the sands of time is not a renewable resource – sands are available in the desert, but not that sands of time, as they disappear like cricket balls when AB de Villiers bat during the final overs of a cricket match.

So, the question remains about where to propose. My normal preference would be the badminton court or with tea, but there has to be something even more special about it as I think further. I have received flowers on my car on a Valentine’s Day during the last year of my college, and that was the only incident that had any interesting touch to any February the fourteenth. But that had nothing to follow, and I when I think about a proposal on a Valentine’s Day, I go further – I travel deeper and higher, both ways.

That takes all of us to the location. The church cemetery. Yes, this would clearly degenerate my value on any matrimonial website, but that is a risk I am willing to take. I shall gladly take the zombie-vampire rating for my wedding because I would care less if my bride chooses to be one; it is all about personal choices. She can even be a werewolf if she wants to, and in that case, may be I can choose a cave for the second stage of proposal.

After all, it is all about being innovative and different. I don’t see the point in being similar. Doing it like others has never been my method of working. Yes, I have tried to be like others due to the comparisons that have been made by my relatives and other so called well-wishers, but I have gone beyond that. Those were the teenage days, and I am not ready to go back to the cursed times. There is no longer the need to be like others and do like what the rest of the world do.

If I say that I choose to be crazy in love, there will be people who come up with the opinion that I have never been sane. Yes, with the chance of that insanity title bestowed upon me, I choose to propose in that graveyard. Which church graveyard? The one near my mother’s ancestral parish church. Why there? Because it is further away from the church and is located near a small, old and beautiful chapel dedicated to Saint Antony, my patron saint – and that should be only fair.

The blessings will be abundant from the chapel, and what comes along with the same is the hope to take it to the grave and from there towards eternity as whoever goes to the other world first shall look down like in Dante Gabriel Rossetti’s The Blessed Damozel and think straight into the other world like in Edgar Allan Poe’s The Raven. One with the angels which take forms to travel in this world and the other with the raven who connects the other world, the connection shall always be there with a proposal made in the cemetery.

I don’t think that she will mind at all, because she is as weird as I am, even though I doubt if the title of being “the strangest among the stranger ones” can be shared. I wouldn’t expect her to think that this is going to happen in such a way, but there comes the surprise, the craziness that comes as the side-effect. There are not many stranger things than love, and then there is this proposal at the cemetery which contributes to the madness with beauty and love. Lets Blog for #SoundOfLove.

I am participating in the #SoundOfLove activity atBlogAdda in association with Bluestone

TeNy

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