I met Amna at a cousin’s wedding in Malappuram last year—she was 20, wearing a pink saree, laughing with her cousins. I was home from the UK and totally stuck when I saw her. We talked about poetry and our lives—she teased me for forgetting Malayalam words, I joked about her accent from watching too many British shows. By the end of the night, I nervously asked for her number. We texted for months, sharing stories and voice notes, until I surprised her at Calicut Airport during her college break. Our families approved, and now we’re figuring things out slowly… but every time I fly back to London, I count the days till I see her again.