A gift that outlives us
I wanted to give you a memory that lasts after both of us are gone. Long after our phones die and our chats are lost, this page will still be here — still loading, still saying the same thing: she was real, she was loved beyond measure, and someone was lucky enough to watch her live. This website is the living proof of what you are, and of what we were — and will always be.
The poem that started it all
October 2022. She wore a saree. I stopped functioning and wrote this instead.
Four years later, a reply to my own poem
Our story
Every love story is beautiful, but ours began with a requirements document.
"Hey! Any update on that SRS part?"
The single most romantic opening line in software history. Two colleagues at Expenzing, fixing issues on late-night calls. She called me "sir." I kept finding reasons to say "can we connect?" — and somewhere between the tickets and the test servers, I stopped needing a reason.
A birthday, a saree, and a one-minute talk
Her birthday week. She wore a saree and I forgot how sentences work. I wished her at night like a "good friend" — and within three days we were having The Conversation. Two days after that, I wrote her a poem. You've just read it.
The hardest day
The day her world lost its centre. There were no right words, so I gave her the only true ones I had: "She is inside you always… and forever." Grief entered the room that day — and love simply refused to leave it.
"You are the one"
Six days later, I finally said everything: "tujhse milke ek peace lagta hai… you are the one." And she — in the middle of the hardest month of her life — said it back first: "I love you." Three words from her strongest, softest place. I've been trying to deserve them ever since.
Half a world apart
I moved to the USA. Everyone says distance kills love. Five weeks later we set our all-time record — 1,955 messages in a single day. Distance never stood a chance.
Home, to her
Flights back to India, her hand in mine again — beaches, forts, a glittering Eiffel Tower that wasn't in Paris, a sunflower, and meeting the people she loves most. I walked in nervous and walked out understanding her completely.
Still falling
Two time zones, one us. Still texting like it's 2022, still calling "for 5 minutes," still counting down to the next flight home. The story's just getting started — scroll down for the spoilers.
Us, in numbers
I exported our entire WhatsApp chat and did the math. The data is clear: we never shut up.
3,34,965 messages
And counting. That's a full-length novel… every month, for four and a half years.
1,450 days of talking
From April 13, 2022 to today. We barely missed a day.
7,796 calls
Voice, video, "I'll call you for 5 minutes" that lasted 3 hours.
783 good nights
Versus 175 good mornings. We are, officially, night people. Exhibit A: our first message was at 4:07 am.
1,955 messages in one day
September 12, 2024. Our record. What could we possibly have had left to say? Everything.
Her top 3: 😂 💋 😒
Laughing at me, kissing me, judging me. In that exact order. Accurate.
All the things she is
A scientifically incomplete catalogue of her cuteness. All figures verified against four years of chat evidence.
Says "venky" 2,186 ways
Happy venky. Angry venkyyy. Disappointed venky. Three extra Y's when she wants something. I can hear the difference in text.
Called me "baby" 1,577 times
Also "pagal" 350 times, "idiot" 102 times and "dumbo" 80 times. All of them mean I love you. I checked.
We're Tom & Jerry
Her words: "tom and jerry ya Naina-Bunny." We bicker like cartoons and love like the movies.
Once called me "sir"
38 times, back when we were just colleagues. From "audible ho sir?" to "baby" — the greatest promotion of my life.
1,110 kisses · 1,079 judgments
Her 💋-to-😒 ratio is nearly 1:1. Loving me and judging me, in perfect balance. That's marriage training.
Out-texts me by 42,929
1,88,945 of our messages are hers, 1,46,016 are mine. I read every single one twice.
Her favourite things
A very short list, because she's picky — and I love that about her.
Egg biryani 🍳
Her one true love (I'm a close second). "I'll not eat fish chicken because that's my fav" — but egg biryani? Egg biryani gets finished.
Marine Drive 🌊
Her place. The sea wall, the breeze, the Queen's Necklace at night — and us on it. This drawing of that exact spot lives in our chat.
Her favourite boy 😏
Movie? "No movie." Her words from the chat instead: "Kal I'm going to meet my favourite boyyyy." Four Y's. I counted. I win.
Her people
To understand Shrushti, you have to understand that she was never built for herself alone. Everything she does — every long day, every sacrifice she never calls a sacrifice — she does with her family in her heart. She said it herself once: "I'm doing this for my family." She didn't say it for sympathy. She said it like a fact of nature.
Her mother lives in everything she does — in the way she cares for people before they ask, in the food she remembers, in the love she gives the way it was given to her. Some loves don't end; they just change where they live. Hers lives in Shrushti now, and I see it every single day.
Her father is her anchor. She sits with him, looks after him, measures out his medicines, and quietly carries more than anyone realises. The way that house trusts her tells you everything about who she is.
And around them — her brother, the kids who adore her, her aai, the whole noisy, loving world that calls her didi. In January 2026, I finally got to meet them. I walked in nervous and walked out understanding her completely.
- Family first, alwaysNot a slogan. The operating principle of her entire life.
- Her father's girlHis medicines, his moods, his pride. She's the one he counts on.
- Everyone's didiThe all-rounder. The one the kids run to. The spine of the house.
some loves don't end — they just change where they live ✿
Her values & her fire
- Self-respect above everythingHer exact words, preserved for history: "I love my self-respect more than you." She meant it. It's the most attractive thing about her.
- Loyalty that doesn't flinch1,450 days. Two countries. One record-breaking September. She shows up, every single day, no matter what.
- Care as a reflex"I wish I would be there to take care of you" — sent from 13,000 km away, meant with her whole chest. She takes care of people the way other people breathe.
- She wants to live carefree"I want to be so fucking carefree" — her dream, verbatim. My job description: making that come true.
- She owns who she is"I love my this self." No apology, no filter. She likes who she's becoming, and so does everyone who meets her.
- She said she wanted to be a good girlfriendDecember 2023. For the record: she overshot. Catastrophically.
The pretty one
A museum of my favourite person, 2022 to now. Admission: free. Photography of the exhibits: encouraged.
So, here is one more gift
Some things can't be typed. Press play.
venky is still wrapping this one… check back soon 🎬
Up next
The part of the story we haven't lived yet. Consider this a written commitment, published on the internet, in front of everyone.
Back to India
The last flight I take alone. After that, airports become something we do together.
The question & the ring
She already knows the answer. I already know the answer. The only suspense is whether I cry first. (I will.)
The trips we keep pinning
The real Eiffel Tower this time — and every place we've saved at 2 am saying "we'll go here one day." One day is coming.
The wedding
Tom marries Jerry. Naina marries Bunny. The 😒 finally becomes legally binding. Her father gives his blessing, her mother watches from the best seat in the house.
Tiny humans
With her eyes, please. Her heart too. My only request: at least one of them should text exactly like her — fourteen messages where one would do.
Growing old, loudly
Two chairs on a porch, two cups of chai, and 3,34,965 more messages to go. The site stays up the whole time — and so do we.
Us, but online
The highlight reel. The real thing is better, but this is close.