I met my husband online, so it’s truly a modern-day love story. It was pre-COVID, I was experimenting with dating apps, and I matched with him my first week on Hinge. We didn’t really text much at first, just the usual introductions—I’m from Mumbai, he’s from Surat. He followed me on Instagram, so we started talking over DM. A couple of weeks later, we exchanged numbers and began calling each other.
We met for the first time about a month in; he was coming to Mumbai for work. We went to Prithvi Café, had some momos and coffee, and talked. It was supposed to be a short meeting, but before we knew it, it was dinner time. After that, we couldn’t stop thinking about each other. Because of the distance, we met only once a month, sometimes once every two months. Every meeting felt special. The excitement never really faded.
While we were dating, I was so into him that I never really imagined what moving cities would mean. It only got serious later, when we both felt like we wanted to do this together. He was born and raised in Surat, in Gujarat, a dry state. I always knew that. But knowing something in theory and living it are very different things. I was born and brought up in Mumbai, and the energy there is incomparable. The spontaneity, the comfort of knowing your friends are always around, and the ease of making plans after work. I didn’t think about what leaving that would feel like.
I usually met him when he was in Mumbai. We’d go out on dates and I’d be the one with a cocktail; he’d have a mocktail. We’re complete opposites when it comes to alcohol. He’s not much of a drinker. I genuinely enjoy spending an evening with a glass of wine. But we always respected each other’s choices. It was never an issue, just a difference.
My first drink was beer, which I hated. I still hate it. I remember thinking, ‘Okay, this is alcohol, and I don’t like this.’ But later, I tried vodka and then slowly whiskey, rum, gin and wine. That’s when I started enjoying it. Over time, gin and tonic became my favourite. For me, it was never about drinking excessively. It was always social. After work with friends or with my siblings. I’m actually quite an introvert, but when I’m slightly tipsy, I open up more, I let go a little and I enjoy more. I’ve never liked drinking alone. I’ve always had a buddy—my sister, my friends, cousins, colleagues—never my husband.
I moved to Surat right after we got married. It was only when I came back to Mumbai for the first time after shifting that it hit me—I really miss this. Not just the drinks, but the familiarity. The feeling of being in Mumbai. Now, when I visit, the first thing I plan is meeting my friends. Maybe I’ll order one glass of red wine. That’s enough. It’s less about the alcohol and more about the comfort of slipping back into that version of myself.
My best friend used to stay in Vasai, where there are so many beaches, almost like mini Goa. We’d take a bottle of wine and go to the beach, sit and watch the sunset. That was our time. We’d reconnect and talk about everything—work, relationships, life. Those evenings felt slow and full. Those are the moments I miss the most.
Life in Surat is calmer, quieter. I work remotely. I see my friends less. It’s a different pace. Sometimes I miss the noise. Sometimes I miss my gin and tonics and beachside sunsets and spontaneous Bombay nights. But I moved to a dry state for love. And in return, I found a different rhythm with someone who may never hold a glass of whiskey, but has always held my hand.
- As told to Thea Mulchandani.
Also read:
Why aren’t we moving cities for our friends the way we do for love and work?
I think being lovebombed is one of the most romantic gestures
