Month: December 2004

Smoking in injurious to health

Not all who smoke Gold Flake Kings, live life King-size. Well, at least not the ones those are married.

Not so long ago, I was a chain smoker. Now I am chained smoker.

From a cool sounding 15-20 cigarettes/day, to very modest 1-2 cigarettes a day, it has been a very steep climb down. Thanks to my wife, Rekha.

Before marriage, she liked me smoking. She loved the fact that I was macho (well, I know that`s debatable). She also loved to hold an unlit cigarette between her fingers and pose for the imaginary camera. Once she even said: “This smoking helps you keep your breath fresh.”

“Are you sure,” I had asked.

“Of course Rajan. I remember the time when you were trying to quit. Those were terrible times. Remember, I had even suggested you meet your dentist?”

I bought her logic, and continued smoking. But after marriage everything changed. Now she doesn`t want me to smoke. Credit to my negotiating skills and ability to lie-with-a-straight-face that I am still a smoker.

I have been smoking for the last twelve years and only recently have I come to know from her that smoking could lead to impotency. It seems, it is bad for the kid too.

Harping on the disadvantages of smoking, she continued: “It stains your teeth, air pipe, trachea and alveoli.” (Alveoli = air sacs in your lungs, where Oxygen mixes with blood)

Though, it left me wondering why would anybody be concerned about the stains on my trachea, I brought the count down.

Her logic is simple: she says she wants to die before I do. Now, I cannot go and tell her that the non-smoking Horse in Marlboro advertisements died first coz of passive smoking. Anyways, because of Rekha`s emotional, sentimental, historical, biological, geographical, economical and sociological blackmail, I have now brought down the count.

The irony is, there is nobody to question the ‘smoking` that happens when I speak to another pretty lady, or the amount of ‘smoking` that happens in the kitchen when she tries her hand at cooking!

Washing clothes & sins

There was a time when men chose between a wife and a washing machine. I myself, when young would joke about how I intended to marry early because I did not like washing clothes.

I hated Surf washing power and the blue colored Rin detergent because they made my hand rough. Washing also meant, identifying the dirty clothes thrown all over my room from the cleaner ones that were left on the bed. Once the clothes to be washed were identified, I needed to fill a bucket with water clean enough to clean the clothes. The washing powder had to be thrown in the bucket and given a nice whirlwind tour of the bucket`s insides. And then, I had to soak the clothes in the solution.

Technically, I had to wash the clothes after 30 minutes of soaking. But that never happened. So much so, there were times when I washed after one week. It made a lot of sense, because the toughest of strains would vanish. In-your-face colors would lighten up and seem refreshing. A cotton shirt that once went through a seven-day treatment is today being used as a vest.

Washing was so much of detest that when two visitors came to my house one day and said: “If only you agree, Jesus Christ can give you eternal life.”

I said: “That is fine. I Don`t think I can stand it.”

If you are young and unmarried, you probably think you could get married and solve all your washing and drying problems. You are highly mistaken…maybe yes…if you were a girl…then you do solve all those problems. But if you are a guy, you will end up washing her clothes too. And when the kid comes, the Little Master`s shitty attire will also be cleansed by your highness.

But, I have always thought that it is the women who should be doing the washing. If the women folks get pretty upset, the men could offer to do the ironing…that way we could iron out the differences.

Rekha and I have been married for the last 98 days, and that is time enough for the lady of the house to shift the washing responsibilities on able shoulders – like those of mine. Though I carry out the duties bestowed on me by Her Majesty, I still believe it is the women who should do the washing.

Even Darwinian Theory of Evolution points to the same. Why do you think women have smaller feet? The answer is simple…. because it helps them stand closer to the washing machine while dropping in the clothes!

Dullest Blog in the World

http://www.wibsite.com/wiblog/dull

This is probably the dullest blog in the whole universe. Click on the link above, and I can assure you…you won’t be disappointed! Also, check out the comments he has got!

Quote Unquote

This is a ‘quote` special. The whole article has been done using quotes by famous personalities. See if you like it…if you don`t it probably means you are not a well-read person. Rekha did not like it.

-X-X-X-

A 73-year old Helen Hayes once said, “The hardest years in life are those between ten and seventy”. I wonder if she got married when she was just ten. If not, why was her life so tough when she was just ten?

Anyways, would not force Ms Hayes to reveal the secret. Because I know toughness brings out the true character and value in a person. Even Rekha, the epitome of toughness, believes in what the absent-minded Albert Einstein said before walking his way: “Try not to become a man of success, but rather, try to become a man of value.” I wonder why should ‘values` be restricted to just the men?

Rekha thinks, if I go out and slog like a dog and bring home loads of money…I would become a man of value? Maybe. Maybe not. One can never be sure, because some women can keep secrets and they need to be left untouched. Hadn`t Oscar Wilde, after spending 35 years with his wife, ended up saying: “Woman are meant to be loved, not to be understood”.

All would have been fine, if only I had a happy married life. But Rekha doesn`t entertain my advances. Does that mean she also believes in what the cranky novelist Mark Twain once said: “Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society.”

And since, I am not a Gandhian…I threw Mahatma Gandhi`s belief that “An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind” to the winds and started admonishing her for her advances. Well, almost.

With little happening between us, I can now feel Rekha restricting my food intake. To top it, her cooking ensures that I am on a strict diet. It is probably, the reason why I am losing my paunch after marriage. One instance that questions the very foundation of Bob Hope`s view that “Middle age is when your age starts to show around your middle.” With a little more coordination, Rekha and I could prove Bob Hope terribly wrong.

Perhaps it is time for me to tell Rekha about this person called Zsa Zsa Gabor. The sex symbol of the 60s had once said: “Husbands are like fires – they go out when unattended.”

But can I quote Zsa Zsa Gabor to Rekha? Maybe not…for Alfred Hitchcock had some time back said “TV has brought murder back to where it belongs – the home.” And I have a TV at home.

Rekha not feeling well. I am also in the same well.

My wife is not feeling well. Some evil eye she thinks – wonder what it could be. What was it with Rekha, that somebody found reason enough to be jealous? Beats me.

Wonder if I was the reason for jealousy. And if that is the case, I think the person who cast the evil eye has to be lady.

And if she is a lady, do I know her? Yes, I got to because both our lives are over-lapped (now you know why I crib so much). And the only lady both of us know is our maid servant!

Could she be jealous of Rekha because she has me? Maybe. Just maybe. Does this make me a smart/handsome guy? Or has the maid servant seen me wash the dishes, iron Rekha’s clothes, and make chappaties? Beats me!

Rekha is not feeling well…and didnot feel like writing about her.

Categories
Uncategorized

Rekha in previous birth

Was wondering what Rekha could have been in her previous birth. Here are a few guesses –

Hammer – Falls right on the head
Blade – Nips & cuts
Knife – Cuts right through me
Coaster – Always missing when I want…
Needle – Pricks me
Iron Box – Flattens me & my confidence
Tweezers – Catches even the smallest of ‘mistakes`
Mixer – Makes my keema

Sound Advice

If you are married, you probably don`t sleep. And if you do manage to, you are probably pinched all night on your inner thigh (ouch, that hurt!) to keep you awake because when you sleep, you snore and that keeps your wife awake.

In the first month of our marriage, I wouldn`t walk properly in the mornings. My inner thighs were sore with red pinch-marks.

Confused? Don`t be. It is simple logic. Men snore and agree. Women snore, but don`t agree and make a big fuss about their husband`s orchestra.

In the initial days of our marriage Rekha would not disturb me, and I would have a real sound sleep. Most satisfied men tend to snore and I guess my high-decibel activity did not go well with my wife. Whenever it reached a crescendo, she would pinch and wake me up, and the decibel levels would come down. The whole cycle would repeat itself soon enough.

I snore. Priya, Nivedita, Rajalakshmi, Geeta and Pratima are testimony to it (Names have been changed to ensure privacy of these pretty girls). Once, our deaf and half-dead neighbor also complained. On second thoughts, Rekha has also warned me about it.

She had said: “Guess what, I did not sleep the whole of last night.”

“I knew it! You were watching a movie without me!” I exclaimed.

“No stupid. You kept snoring and the whole night and I felt I was at The Phantom of the Opera.”

“Hoo…cool. That`s a nice show.” I try to dodge her barbs.

“I know, but cannot you bring down the volume? She asks..or rather pleads.

“Sure I will,” I say even though I had wanted to say: “Sure…honey, But I am not able to reach for the snore-volume knob…could you please help me out.”

Sleeplessness can drive people crazy. Before the first month of our marriage came to an end, Rekha had started acting crazy.

She visited a local homeopath to buy a snore-remover medicine. It looked like coarse sand..actually I can swear in any court that it WAS actually sand, used in construction works. The homeopath had charged Rs 200 and given 20 grams of sand to Rekha.

The instructions were simple, I was supposed to mix sand in neem juice and gulp it down. Little did Rekha knew that sand doesn`t mix in neem juice, but that did not stop her from pouring it down my food pipe. I cried hoarse, but my wife who had full faith in the homeopath conman, would not believe me.

Last week, I had my fifth snore-stopping medicine – the residue of a dirty burnt-out handkerchief mixed with curd with a dash of turmeric. Whatever happened to common sense?

The good thing is, now that Rekha is at fault (five of her medicines failed to take affect), I can snore at will.

Now, that`s something not all husbands have the privilege of!

I drink, therefore I am

(Even as I type this, I can see my monitor swinging like a pendulum and the keys on my keyboard playing hide-and-seek with me. I am drunk. Perhaps.)

If you are married, you have probably given up drinking. Or you are fooling your wife.

Since, I am no mortal like you, I can drink in my house…and drink whatever I want…except of course, Sulphuric acid, which I leave for all those men in Karnataka who like to throw acid on the faces of their women. (God, I hate guys who resort to throwing acid on the faces of their love interests once their advances are not reciprocated. I could kick them in their balls with a smile on my face. Sorry about the aggresion, I just read an article in the Dec issue of ‘Week` and it is pathetic).

On the day of our marriage, I hid a chilled beer under our bed. If you are somebody with whom I have never had a beer before, I would like to tell you that I could gulp down at least ten beers in one go. And if you are somebody with whom I have sat down for liquor, I would want you to ignore this lie about ten beers. As I was saying, I hid a beer under my bed, and drank it before Rekha was ushered in the room.

What happened then is anybody`s guess. I got screwed – left, right and center. Rekha even threatened that she would expose my drinking habits to my father…at which I retorted: “Please don`t tell him. He would be terribly upset.”

“I am going to tell my father-in-law that you drank a beer last night.” She was adamant.

It took me a long while to convince her that he won`t be upset coz I had beer, but because I did not call him when I had it. Her next threat came in the morning: “I will tell my father that you drank last night.”

“Sure, you could do that. Just take this amrutanjan balm. Your father asked for it.”

“Why? He has got a headache is it?” She asks.

“Yes. But it is not his fault, if I were to finish a whole bottle of Green Label whiskey in one night; I would also have a headache the next day. They call it a hangover.” I said. Looks like her father was really happy about marrying off Rekha.

Rekha did not seem to be impressed with my general knowledge and went her way.

Days passed, and we were now supposedly a happy couple going through our honeymoon phase (contrary to popular belief, this phase lasts only as long as the honeymoon and not 12 months as most women believe). But somehow Rekha decided that my health was paramount and decided that I can ‘drink` only on Saturdays.

Here are some of the other liquids I had to stop taking to appease my wife –

Boost – she says milk doesn`t digest in elders because an enzyme called ‘peptin` that is helpful in digestion of lactose (the main ingredient in milk) is not formed in adults.
Curd – the yeast in the curd stays put in the stomach and creates trouble at a later date.
Coke/Pepsi – It corrodes the fluoride covering on my teeth and makes them less white (Actually I am to blame for this one coz, when asked about the cigarette-induced stains on my teeth, I had given the brown-colored coke as the reason).
Tea – It is a habit-forming drink and besides a huge wastage of time and money also results in high blood pressure.
Coffee – stains the food pipe, the stomach, the small intestine, the large intestine and the rectum.

I am so F#@%ing glad water is a tasteless, colourless, odorless liquid.

(If you find this piece better than my earlier ones please make it a point to mention in the comments, because my dear wife wants me to become a good writer. If alcohol has to be my passport to the Pulitzer Prize, so be it.)