Marriage - magic and madness

Recently we were chatting with a set of married friends of ours. Soon, our discussion turned to how people change over a period of time – especially after marriage.

My hubby and I will soon complete four years of marriage and it seems unbelievable that we’ve been together for so long. And surprising still is how we have evolved as people and more importantly as spouses. So much that we barely recognize the guy/girl we married. Recently, I happened to browse through a mail my husband sent me a few months prior to our wedding and I was surprised – I couldn’t believe he wrote such lovely mails at one point in history! I think it is much the same for all couples – and this is not to say that we love them any less. In fact we tend to love and appreciate them more as time flies – but just that we change and settle down as life moves on.

So, here’s a quick guide on “How to know you have settled down as spouses”. This is a compilation of excerpts from conversations with friends - with lots of experience blended in.

Please Note:
- From now on “Before” means before you got married or a few days into marriage and “After” means a few years (or months – depending on the couple) after your marriage.
- This is from a wife’s point of view. Husbands – please feel free to let me know what you think !

1. Before: Phone calls lasted 30 minutes, 1 hour, 2 hours or till your parents screamed at you.
After: Duration of calls – 17 seconds. Conversations become to-the-point:
“Have you sent the tax declaration form?”
“Yes”
”Ok- make sure you follow up on it”
”Yeah”
“Bye””Bye”

2. Before: E-mails were so long you had to use the scroll button at least 4 times to reach its last sentence.
After: Mails are like telegram – “wen u leaving ofis?” – that too written in the subject line!

3. Before: You could not keep your hands off each other.
After: “ Hmmmmm... could you move a bit? It’s very warm!”

4. Before: Your laughter seemed to light up his life .
After: “Will you please stop? There are people around us” (Phew!)

5. Before: Window shopping and you spot a lovely dress.
”Wow- isn’t that lovely?”
”That one? You want to check it out?”
After: “That is a nice dress”
”You know home loan interest rates are going up- don’t you?”

6. Before:
Where do u want me to put this chair – in this room or that?
“I’ll do it- don’t bother”
After:
“Where do you want me to put this chair – in this room or that?
”Yes”
“!!! Yes? What does that mean?”
“-------“
So much for selective hearing!

Yet we love and cherish them, don't we? I guess that is the magic of togetherness!
~RE

Saying what with colors?

I love Holi – the colors, the pichkaris, the mithai… Almost all my memories associated with Holi are those that bring a smile to my face. My husband, on the other hand, does not like Holi much. He just cannot understand how smearing each other with colors that take hours (and sometimes days) of scrubbing to get rid of, can be anyone’s idea of fun.

No wonder, he prefers to stay home on Holi. I give him company, because these days I do not trust the various kinds of colors available. The colors these days are a combination of god-knows-what-all. Yes, you could buy organic colors, but how can you trust that the multi-hued person who is going to smear you with something has got organic stuff? You can’t go around with a checklist on Holi, can you? So I thought I’d rather stay at home and watch “Rang barse” on television.

Yesterday, things were different. We had to go out for a function in the afternoon and we were getting ready, when a friend of ours came over with his friends, completely smeared in colors. He insisted we get out and let them put a bit of color on us. I would not have had a problem –except for two things: One, we had to leave in sometime and two; the colors would not go off by then. No way- these are “water colors”, “you can just wash them off”. The colors did not look like “water color” to me and I told them so, but they would not agree. Fine – there is no harm joining in a bit of fun for Holi, and they were not going to leave without us letting them put a bit of color on us, so we said ok. Well, “a little bit” was all over my face, and the moment I took some color to smear our friend with, I knew it was not going to be easy washing it off. :)

Worse was in store for my husband. They insisted he come out of the house, and when he did, they took an egg and smashed it on his head. Argh! Now from when is egg a part of Holi?

Well, I got back inside and tried to wash off the color at my wash basin – and I soon realized the big mistake I did. The entire area – including the walls and the floor - was purple now, and the more I tried to scrub it off, the stronger the color got! For my face - wow – I couldn’t make out where my eyes and nose where, all I could see was a blob of purple. Now, I was trying to scrub it off vigorously, because we needed to be somewhere in half an hour!

For the next one hour we scrubbed – I ACTUALLY used a ScotchBrite (and not the sponge-side) on my face – and I am not kidding. Then we scrubbed the washbasin, the bathroom floor – but the color remained as it was in the beginning.

When we used to play Holi as children, we too would go to our neighbors’ homes and ask them to join us. And if people did not join in after all the coaxing, cajoling and threatening – there were just two reasons: One, they had a genuine reason and two, they were not interested at all. (In either case, I fail to understand what fun it is to forcibly have color thrown at them.) If they would not relent, we would ask them if we could apply some color on their cheeks and they would agree, because that was an easier way to get away. So we could put a little gulal on their cheeks, wish them a happy Holi and go our way. We used to have so much fun even after respecting everybody’s feelings! I wonder why things have changed over the years, and unfortunately, changed for the worse, if this is how Holi is played these days.

Well, as of yesterday evening, this was what I was left with…

1. A made over bathroom with purple tiles.
2. A chance to visit someone, looking like the proverbial fox that fell into the dye.
3. A face that is red and burning – and I guess, breaking out into rashes as well.
4. A purple-tinged husband with well conditioned hair.

Hope your Holi was better!

Cheers!
~RE

Good Wives

Chanced upon an article from a 1955-issue of a women’s magazine that is still in circulation. The article was very interesting! It talks about how you can be a good wife (but of course). It provides a great insight into what a wife should have done in those days when a husband came back from work. I will put down a few points so that you know how it goes:

1. Prepare yourself. Take 15 minutes to rest so you will be refreshed by the time he is home. Touch up your make up, put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh looking.

2. Listen to him. You may have important things to tell him but the moment of his arrival is not the time. Let him talk first: remember, his topics of conversation are more important than yours.

3. Don’t complain if he is late for dinner of even if he stays out all night. Count this as minor as to what he might have gone through the entire day.

These are just a few. It would have been a very natural thing for that period, but it sounds so out of place today! I think it would be very interesting to study the change in perception of people by comparing articles on “being a woman” (as it is called now), taking as samples one issue in every 10 years of the same magazine. I’m sure it will be a stark change that we will witness over 50 years. From “A wife always knows her place” to “50 ways to touch your man”, it would be shocking and sensational to say the least!

It is also very interesting to note how even the literature of the past century describes “good girls”. They are always quiet, well mannered, and soft spoken. Unfortunate still, there are countless novels where a “wild” girl becomes a “good girl” by getting tamed under a good parent, suitor or teacher. Take Little Women for example. I absolutely love that book, no doubt. And my favorite character is Joe. She is a far cry from good girls of the day. When things don’t go her way she says “Christopher Columbus!”, and she is very temperamental - losing her cool every now and then. But hey – I am sure most of us would have loved her for her bindaas attitude to life. She is so alive compared to her good sisters.

But well – Louisa may Alcott was not happy about it. In the second part of the book Good Wives, as the name suggests, she tamed Joe. She grew more “mature” and “wise” – which means she became just as boring as others. I was more shocked when I realized that Little Men that I had read long back was actually a third part of this – and the matronly lady in the story was Joe! Aaaaaarrrrrrrrghhhhhhh – where was the feisty, lively girl? Joe had been wiped out to be replaced by a lady – Sigh!

Compare that to today’s protagonist – a good example (though it is not fair to compare) would be Kaavya Vishwanathan’s now-infamous Opal Mehta. Opal Mehta is a “good girl” and well, the whole novel is about how she “got kissed, got wild” and thus “got a life”!

To get back to the article, I must say many of the points are valid today and can be adopted if the wife is at home – like say greeting him with a smile (ribbon in the hair might not be a great idea though!) or not greeting him with complaints at the door – but can you imagine any girl greeting her husband with a smile if he does not come home for the entire night? How many would buy the argument that his conversations are more important than hers? I doubt!

The reactions my friends sent in to the mail were proof enough. It ranged from “They couldn't have been serious!” to “disgusting ...imagine how can anyone write this stuff”. The one I liked best was “You will kill me with the good wife manual. Do me a favor - Make one for the good husband and send it to all hubbies”.

Great idea- so now we are compiling a manual for husbands. You are welcome to contribute. Here’s one for starters:

Please try to understand that cooking is not as easy as criticizing it. Take some time off to try it out and give your wife some rest. If you cannot do that, the next best thing would be to shut up and eat all that she cooks. Complimenting her would help. Remember- she is the boss of the kitchen - she can mix rat poison to your food.

Cheers!
~RE

Gay ways

Finally we watched Lage Raho Munnabhai last night. But that is not the topic of my blog today. Before the movie started, they screened the trailor of Don – ah, but that too isn’t my topic of interest. But in a way, Shahrukh Khan is.

Before you say “Oh Gawd- not him” and move out of this web page, let me tell you, I am not a fan of the “King Khan” as he is generally called. In fact, I am closer to the other extreme. I almost hate him. Well, I think he is a highly over-rated actor. He is bearable at times, but the moment he gets into emotional scenes (or whichever scene that requires an iota of histrionic capabilities) I wish I could run off the movie hall. He is pathetic- to the point of being funny.

So, I am not going to talk about his acting here. What made me write this was a comment that someone made when the promotional photographs of Kabhi Alvida Naa Kehna were doing rounds on the Web- and everyone was forwarding the pictures to everyone else. He was so irritated with foolish girls swooning over Shahrukh that he hit the “Reply all” button (that’s how I got the mail- I hadn’t known him till then!) and screamed something on the lines of “All you foolish girls- take a breather. You are all crazy to be dying for Shahrukh. I hate him – he can’t act, he is a bisexual…” .

Now, that’s what struck me – one reason for his hating Shahrukh was that he was (supposedly) bisexual. To think of it, does it really matter if the star you liked was gay, lesbian, bisexual or trysexual? (Trysexual: One who is willing to try anything that is sexual – all thanks to King Khan who coined the word! :)) I don’t think it does- or it should. I am interested in what a star does on screen – including what she/he wears and how she pouts– but above that, do I really care if the star has got a vanity van or washes her face with mineral water?

And why is a movie star’s sexuality an issue? Or anybody’s for that matter? I couldn’t care less for anybody’s sexuality except my husband’s maybe – not just for the obvious reasons, but because I cannot even think of sharing my husband with anyone – man or woman. I would be just too jealous!

I do not have any friend who is gay (well, at least not one who has the guts to come out in the open about it) but I do not think that the gay factor alone would affect my relationship with him. And to think of it, would he not be my best bet for a friend? I would never have to be on guard or fear the he would fall for me and spoil the friendship. Moreover I could ogle at cute guys with him for company! How cool!

What if a girl I chance to meet was lesbian? Would that affect my friendship with her? I don’t think so, unless she would fall for me. Then what would I do? Exactly what I would do if a guy fell for me – I’d tell her “bheja ghum gayela hai kya?” and back off! Ain’t that simple?

PS: The tile of this post was actually the name of a text book we had in primary school. Just wondering how far the word has traveled!

~RE

Salaam Mumbai

When Mumbai burnt, the reactions were varied, but underlined by a common thread…of fear, and anxiety. I was relieved to know all my friends were safe, though “shaken”. A day later, another long-lost-and-recently-found friend of mine began to recount his experience and well, I thought it was a good post for my blog.

So today the post is his. He writes well (and sketches like a dream!) so here’s his story, in his words – compiled from our chat and mails…

Well... it is 11.30 pm and am just back from Jogeshwari where one of the train blasts occurred. A little bit of walking, more walking, bus, 3 bikes, train, bus and hooome. Yoo hooo. I love this place.

I was in Malad (You know Mumbai?). Malad is close to Jogeshwari where one of the blasts happened. Almost all the blasts happened in first class compartments. I saw one of them, with roof split open and side walls too given away.

The local train. Started off from somewhere...picked me up from Malad...screeched to slow halt somewhere near Jogeshwari. Unsuspecting jam packed compartments knew little...and remain immersed in their crosswords... And the message came. Shucks... do you know Marathi? I don’t know either. I didn’t know what he said… but it might have meant... signal na milne ke kaaran...rukaawat…errrr. Hope you got the message. I got the message. That train stopped - no signal, no journey.Everybody still immersed themselves in their train-journey-passions… with more intent.

And then suddenly...the fans went off. That is when people suspected something - that this is going to stay for a while. The Mumbai people consider the train as their life line. When they can’t afford to stay close to office, they go far…and far... and farther to get an accommodation, homely, and cheap. And a journey of 2 hours is written in the foreheads of 75% of Mumbayites. Jam packed. Well that is another story. The life in a local train. But you need to know the importance of local trains in a Mumbayite's life. And how they respond to a change in the train's schedule/frequency.

So… when the train in which they are traveling suddenly screeches to a halt, they don’t panic. It isn’t as much of a state of complacency or trust in the service. It could as well be something that has risen out of helplessness. But that was how it was, when the message came, and later when the lights went off. So many conflicting rumors started to come immediately.
- That the engine is defunct
- That there is some blast.
- That there is electronic signal error that is going to be rectified immediately. Et all.

But all rumors were set aside, when people from Mumbai side started walking towards Virar direction. And began speaking vividly about the blast.

Until then, I was very calm. Know why? I didn’t know Marathi. So I understood nothing. (Ignorance is a bliss right?) Now I decided...to jump. And off I walked to the next railway station. Or so I imagined would take me if I were to follow the railway tracks.

It was a spectacle. Not the sight of the people who walked in tandem...single mindedly. (They have all already accepted it as their fate. They don’t waste too many seconds in accepting the realities. Practical to the core.) But that wasn’t the spectacle. Everybody was punching at their cell phone keys to get to the near ones. Every single one. But soon, every cell was tucked back in, with reality accepted fast. And off they, we ...went.

The nearest railway station was Jogeshwari. And there lay the train...with its belly split wide open. And I could see the host of onlookers…curious, angry, helpful, duty-bound.I saw the firemen too. Blue, thick coats with glittery gold badges. Looked professional.Yes. We knew for sure. But I decided to jump when my instincts convinced me that the thing is real. Also the survival instincts in Mumbayites are high. And when they walked, I guess, my instincts were also resonating. So I too walked.

We are now standing in the midst of the mad crowd. The fazed crowd… which is sprayed by policemen, ambulance men, fire men... helpers, onlookers. I could describe the crowd, but it was ordinary. Just like any calamity crowd. But there was this. Within minutes of the calamity, there were volunteers. Good looking and well dressed men. Who took it to be their responsibility to guide people as to which way they could go.

You could find a plethora of options. But of which you know nothing of. All your options are meaningless unless you have any or all of the variables known. So when time is important, you calculate how much of it you have in front of you, and how much you can afford. And then the money you have to weigh that time factor. So time and money became the parameters. And then I just gulped the last suggestions… and jumped on to the Mahim bus that just slowed down. And there I sat for the next 4 hours in a bus that slipped back 3 feet for every 5 feet it moved.

I was stuck in Andheri for an hour or more. Many scenes flew past - people, incidents...until Mahim came. And then 3 pillion rides. Amidst continuous drizzle. And train from Byculla along the central lane that was still running. And then a bus home.

And by the way there were lots of people on the streets. Let’s call them Mumbayites. Mumbayites… who have a common character of resilience... Mumbayites who had a common experience of helplessness during last year's calamity... They were standing on the streets with make-shift stalls distributing water, biscuits to the people in the cars, buses. (Biscuits were thrust and thrown into people's hands in the buses, who were seemingly shy to accept them... or reluctant to accept the reality of the predicament.) People were standing with big banners requesting people to give lifts. Even old couples were seen distributing packaged drinking water...

Home... My room mate arrived a few minutes later visibly distraught and looked peeved why I wasn’t asking him about his story. Well, I think he was slightly abashed when he heard my story, which might have mole hilled his. As was mine when I heard my friends' the day after. Well this place is a story churner, and there is no end to it. If only if the ear is sensible, sweet. But alive. He he!

Mumbai never ceases to surprise, does it?
~RE

Totally pissed off...no posts today.
.
.
.
.
.
No, I was backing Italy..and they WON!

~RE

Is that a Mal thing?

During the good-bye party to one of the team members last week, my colleague and I got talking about backwaters and Kerala, and how he had been to various places across the state. While on this, he made an interesting observation - that he didn't like the people of Kerala much because their sense of humour was weird - they seemed to find humour at the expense of others. Simply put - Mals' idea of a joke was making fun of others.
I found this very interesting. Probably because this had never struck me before. And this set me thinking - was it true? If he had noticed it, it probably was. Hmmm - but what makes a Mal so? Is it his inherent feeling that he is intellectually a few steps ahead of people around him? That he is not someone who'd laugh at goofy, slapstick stuff? Or was it just plain quirky sense of humour?
I'd like to believe the third. Because for one, I really do not believe that an average Mal finds humour thus. Being a Mal, I know quite a lot of fellow Malayalees who do not. I have a number of friends who are blessed with amazing wit, and on few occasions do they need to lean on another's shortcomings to make one laugh.
To think of it - is it just Mals who laugh at others? I think, given a chance, all are thus. How many of us do not laugh hearing a Sardarji joke? So aren't you insulting them? Aren't you laughing at their expense? The views are varied - I think that is more for the joke than for the fact that it is on a Sardar. Substitute the Sardar for any other guy and almost all the the jokes are just as funny.
Secondly, if they do laugh at others, more often than not, they laugh at themselves too. And probably they do not mind being laughed at just as well. The Namboodiri jokes or the 'Seethi haji' jokes are a few examples of how we can laugh at ourselves. More close to our times, look at all the jokes on Mals circulating on the internet these days. Take Lola kutty and "AAlecs" - it is too much to see them all these as insults.
Also doesn't every culture, every region have some characteristic that makes it detestable? If some people are nosy, quite a few are aggressive to the point of being dangerous. While some are highly prejudiced, some just do not let you be.
But well, isn't that what makes them what they are? And I'm sure every culture has its endearing qualities too. And both, I believe, are very subjective.
So in the end, probably it is a true but partial view that Mals have a sick sense of humour. You're sure they do? Then probably they are part of the nasty-Mals fraternity - just ignore them!

~RE.