Taking it from where we left on Yahoo`s 10 years…here is a link that lists out 100 landmarks achieved on the net, in the last ten years.
I am waiting for Rekha. I am home, and she is yet to come.
I can tell you waiting is bad. Before marriage, I waited long enough for her to say “Yes” to my question: “Will you marry me?” I think I had to wait for four years.
In the four years, I had started earning well and my complexion had turned wheat-ish, because of the Dove soap I had started using. Sometimes, I do wonder if she married me for my money and complexion. These girls, I tell you….
Looks like she would be home only by 10.30 p.m. and that means a long wait for me.
It was not always so. Before marriage, she would wait for my calls…she would wait for me to ask…”shall we go to the beach?”…she would wait for me to buy her an ice-cream. Now, the tables have turned.
So much so, even when she talks…I don`t listen. I just wait for my chance to talk back. I get to talk so little.
Before marriage, I always had wads of money in my wallet. Money flows like a dried up spring after she took over full control of the financial matters. Even as I type, I wait for financial prosperity.
I know…I am not as irritated as I used to be in the initial days of my marriage. Slowly, I am learning to be patient…and accept the way things are. The problem is, the more I learn to wait longer…the lesser I time I have with me. Man, ages after all.
Now, don`t ask me if women age. They don`t. They just turn into relics. Why do you think archeologists love their wives so much?
She has told me that she would be home at 10.30 p.m.. But I know she can`t be punctual. Perhaps, she agrees with Evelyn Waugh, who once said that ‘Punctuality is the virtue of the bored.` And no…. Evelyn Waugh is in no way related to Steve Waugh (Have you checked out my Cricket Blog yet?).
I am not trying to tell you that I am a cool punctual dude. Though, I used to be once; courtesy my Army-man father.
I would land up at the rendezvous ten minutes in advance…but the next person would come in at least 10 minutes after the scheduled meeting time. After a few years of being punctual…one fine day it dawned on me that there never was anybody to appreciate me being punctual. Now, I go late. Just like my wife.
Don`t ask me why I am taking this lying down (actually I am lying now and the proof is…one cannot type while lying down).
Why can`t I face up to my wife and say: “Hey, you! I have no compulsion to take this abuse from you. I’ve got thousands waiting to abuse me!”