My Grand Design: The (Surprisingly Romantic) Quest to Marry an Engineer
From a young age, I had a very specific plan. While my friends were crushing on movie stars and musicians, my heart was set on a different kind of hero: an engineer.
Whenever the aunties at weddings would pinch my cheeks and ask, "So, beta, what kind of boy are you looking for?" I wouldn't say "handsome" or "rich." I'd confidently declare, "An engineer." This was usually met with a mix of impressed nods and confused smiles.
### The Blueprint is Drawn
My fascination wasn't random; it was born from observation. My father, while not an engineer by trade, had the soul of one. Our home was a symphony of perfectly executed solutions. A leaky tap was a puzzle to be solved, a broken toy was a challenge to be reverse-engineered, and a power cut was an opportunity to demonstrate the brilliance of his emergency inverter setup.
He brought a quiet, methodical calm to chaos. For me, that was the ultimate form of security and care. I didn't want grand, poetic declarations of love; I wanted someone who would look at a problem—any problem—and say, "Don't worry, I can fix this."
That, to me, was romance.
### The Beta Testing Phase
My dating life, therefore, became a series of experiments. I called it the "beta testing" phase.
The Artist: He was wonderful and saw beauty everywhere. But when my car broke down, he wrote a beautiful, heart-wrenching poem about the tragedy of modern mechanics. I appreciated the sentiment, but I still had to call a tow truck.
The Finance Bro: He talked in percentages and projections. He optimized our dinner dates for maximum return on investment. It was efficient, I'll give him that, but it lacked a certain… soul. He could manage a portfolio, but could he assemble an IKEA bookshelf without having a complete meltdown? The data suggested no.
The Wanderer: He was a free spirit, which was thrilling! But his life had no structure, no plans. He wanted to "see where the river takes us." I, on the other hand, wanted to know if the river had a structurally sound bridge to cross it.
Through it all, my resolve only hardened. I was looking for my fixer, my problem-solver, my rock.
### Eureka! I Found Him
I met Sameer not at a party, but at a board game cafe. My friends and I were struggling with the ridiculously complex rules of a new strategy game. After ten minutes of confused bickering, a calm voice from the next table said, "You're missing a step in the resource allocation phase."
He came over and, with the patience of a saint, laid out the entire game sequence on a napkin. It was logical, clear, and perfectly structured. He didn't just tell us the rules; he explained the system behind them.
I was smitten.
He was a civil engineer. Our first date involved him pointing out the structural integrity (or lack thereof) of various buildings as we walked. He once spent twenty minutes explaining the optimal load-bearing design for a bridge, complete with hand gestures. And you know what? It was the most fascinating thing I had ever heard.
### Life on the Grid
Marrying Sameer has been everything I imagined, and so much more.
Yes, our holidays are planned in a detailed Excel spreadsheet with columns for budget, activities, and risk assessment.
Yes, he did create a flowchart to optimize our morning routine so we could both get out of the house five minutes faster.
And yes, when I have a bad day, his first instinct isn't to just offer a hug. It is to say, "Okay, let's break down the problem. What are the variables? What is the desired outcome?"
And strangely, it works. He listens to my problems like he's debugging a complex piece of code. He is patient, analytical, and always looking for a solution. His love isn't expressed in flowery words, but in actions. It’s in the perfectly mounted television, the squeaky door hinge that is suddenly silent, and the calm he brings to my most chaotic moments.
He might not write me a sonnet, but he will build me a life where I always feel safe, supported, and understood. He didn't just build bridges for a living; he built one straight to my heart. And its structural integrity is flawless.