The Routine

“You may call me Mrs. Darcy only when you are completely and truly and incandescently happy.”
"Mrs. Darcy" he sighed  
(Pride and Prejudice, the movie)

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And she wondered if such an emotion really did exist, that someone, rather she could be completely and truly and incandescently happy and in love.

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It was a long day and she came back home after midnight. After her routine for the night and she sat cross-legged at her kitchen table, she called her father while eating a peanut-butter sandwich. They talked about the morning and the day, they talked about work and work-outs, they talked about girls and boys, they talked about cloths and world events, they talked about home and college, they laughed, they scolded, they giggled, they sighed, they advised, they listened. At the end of the conversation and way into the night, her father asked, “So is my little princess, completely and truly and incandescently happy?”

She paused for a moment and ran through a recap of her day, her short life. It dawned to her that this time when she came home exhausted and took a shower to ward off the day’s dust that for the first time she liked how rugged she looked, how she smelled, how unkempt her hair was, how the kohl in her eyes was smudged a little, how her lip-color was almost gone. She liked how liberating it felt to be this girl to come home with. And then she wondered if she was in love with her individuality, with her being, with her surroundings, with the people that were a part of her life, with her work, with her dreams, with the things that got her breathing and with the things that took her breath away. She loved that she was finally living and was in a state of no-numbness.

She thought of all these and replied in composure to her father, “Yes papa, your little princess is finally completely and truly and incandescently happy.”

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