Setting: A cozy coffee shop in Toronto on a drizzly spring afternoon.
Priya: (sipping chai and peeking out the window) Would you look at that rain! I knew it. This is such a good sign, Jordan.
Jordan: A good sign? It’s 6°C and drizzling sideways. I nearly lost a shoe to a puddle that looked like it was trying to become a small lake.
Priya: No no, I mean rain today. I booked the venue this morning! Rain on the day you book your wedding means good luck. You know—“a wet knot is harder to untie.” It’s a blessing from the universe!
Jordan: (grinning) You mean the same universe that just flooded the parking lot and frizzed my hair into a weather balloon?
Priya: Ha! You’re just grumpy because you don’t believe in signs. But it’s true—my cousin had a monsoon on her wedding day in India. Thunder, power cuts, cows running down the street—and now they’re celebrating their tenth anniversary with twins and a golden retriever!
Jordan: Priya, correlation isn’t causation. By that logic, maybe it’s the cows that brought the luck, not the rain.
Priya: Well, I wouldn’t mind a cow if it came with a healthy marriage!
Jordan: Listen, I get it. Traditions bring comfort. But just because it rained and something good happened doesn’t mean the rain caused the good thing. Plenty of people have rainy weddings and bad divorces.
Priya: That’s a bit dark, don’t you think?
Jordan: Not if you’re prepared! Honestly, believing rain is a cosmic thumbs-up might make you feel better, but wouldn’t it be more comforting to think your marriage’s success depends on the effort, communication, and compatibility—rather than… meteorology?
Priya: Okay, Dr. Spock. But don’t you think there’s value in believing the universe has your back? It’s romantic. It gives people hope.
Jordan: Sure! Hope is great. But I’d argue that real romance is planning a wedding where the guests don’t drown, and having honest conversations with your partner about finances, kids, and whose family is more annoying.
Priya: (laughs) You are such a buzzkill, Jordan. But I do get what you’re saying. Still, I can’t help it—I grew up hearing these things. My grandma used to say if a crow cawed three times near your window, someone would propose within a week. And guess what? It happened to my aunt!
Jordan: Maybe the crow was just warning her. Or maybe your aunt is just very charming and happened to be dating someone already?
Priya: Possibly… but where’s the magic in that?
Jordan: Magic is in the way you two look at each other when you think no one’s watching. Not in the cloud cover percentage.
Priya: Ugh, fine. But if it rains on my wedding day, I’m taking it as a sign. Scientific evidence or not.
Jordan: Deal. Just promise me you won’t blame the drizzle if the DJ plays the wrong version of your first dance.
Priya: Only if you promise to bring an umbrella and your rational optimism. I’ll need both.

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