The Idea Description:
He proposed to her on a yatch under the moonlight. They popped some champagne and shared a sensual kiss.
He proposed to her by hiding the ring in the cake. There were violinists playing in the background. His heart was beating wildly and there were tears in her eyes.
He proposed to her by hiding the ring in the fortune cookie. She was stunned speechless and she slowly nodded her head, yes, yes, a million times yes. His face broke out into the most glorious smile.
J didn’t propose to P in any of these ways.
He was just a nervous engineer trying to make it in America.
Mr. Techno-Savvy decides to fucking email.
Does she reply?
Optional sections: Feel free to include anything else you’d like to include (within the word limit) about why your story deserves to be told.This can include –
What Makes This Story ‘Real’:
This is the story of my cousin. Almost a decade ago, he was striving very hard to make it in America and his wife’s condition was pretty much the same.
What made me want to write this story was how things have changed because of innovation of the world wide web or the email.
The use of technology and real emotion makes this story real.
Extract from the story:
Dear P, I type on my old and battered laptop. No, this sounds too fucking formal. I back space.
How are you?
We’ve been friends for how many years? Three? Four?
How many years have you been friends with her for, idiot? You want to flatter her, not sound nonchalant.
I look back to the day I met her. She was in front of the computer typing codes swiftly. We were introduced to eachother and being the only Indians in an American office, our friendship was instantaneous.
Until she moved to Canada.
Getting back to the email, I delete the last line.
We’ve been friends for four years.We know eachother decently well. We are friendly. Well, most of the time we are friendly.
I was wondering if we could take it a step further.
You get what I mean?
Probably not since I sound like such an idiot right now.
I know I should be doing this in person, P. But, I just don’t have the balls. This isn’t romantic or anything and God knows you deserve better but this is just me. And I can’t help but give it a shot.
Will you marry me, P?
This is my entry for the HarperCollins–IndiBlogger Get Published contest, which is run with inputs fromYashodhara Lal and HarperCollins India.