Rekha and I decide on a vacation spot

Somebody said that traveling helped broaden one’s mind. For long I thought this was an extravagant statement, for if it were true children of the transferable Armymen should have had the broadest of minds. Which, unfortunately is not true – for why else would they also end up in the Army?

In my life, I have had extensive domestic travel, not to mention the few travels abroad. They definitely helped me broaden my mind. Now, besides my wife, I can also accommodate a girlfriend in my head. This was impossible before – the middle-class guilt messed it up.

When my wife Rekha couldn’t understand how a girlfriend and a wife can be in the same broadened mind, I had no choice but to recommend traveling. She agreed. Only that I had to accompany her.

This is the problem with us Rajans. Sometimes, we get stuck in our own web of deceit and can’t break free.

“Ok then, if you also want me to accompany you, let it be a vacation.” I said.

“Vacation? What is a vacation?” Rekha really didn’t know what that was. She studied when she was a student, when she joined a corporate, she worked, when she became a mother she took care of Rhea….and that’s what she has ever done.

“Rekha, vacation is a break people take once in a while. They go to a place of their liking, and just chill.” I had to break it down for her.

“Ohh…like a honeymoon?” Rekha looked worried.

I couldn’t fault her. The last time we ever traveled was six years back- when we went on our honeymoon to Kumarakom in Kerala.

Since I didn’t want her to be worried, I said: “Yeah, like a honeymoon…just that this time there would be a lot less sex. If at all, that is.”

“That’s fine. I can manage that.” The worry had vanished from her face, and she was now smiling.

Looking at her smiling, I got worried. This smile definitely meant no sex for the 4-5 days we would be on vacation. As the lines on my face grew thicker, Rekha touched me on my cheeks and said: “Don’t worry baby, we will vacation in a spot where internet is available.”

All this happened a few days back. I forgot everything about it the next day itself. A vacation without sex is like a movie without songs – it might be good, but it isn’t enough.

Besides, a good vacation costs money and I was not willing to part with the money saved up for my Pajero.

Rekha brought it up again today: “So, what plans on the vacation?”

“Hmm…let me see. South India is ruled out coz we are from South India. North East is ruled out because we don’t want to be kidnapped by the ULFA, Kashmir is ruled out because its too cold, Goa is ruled out because we have a kid, Andamans is ruled out because we have already been there….in short, there is no place we can go to.” I had practiced this line a few times earlier, so was able to recite it without stopping in between for water.

“How about international travel?” As always Rekha was at her destructive best.

“We don’t have a passport for Rhea, remember?” I felt like a winner while saying this.

“How about Nepal? We don’t need a passport to go there, do we?” Her destructive streak continued.

“Nepal….hmmm…don’t you think the atmosphere there would be a little tense after the Nepalese Royal massacre?”

“Rajan, wasn’t that ten years back?” Rekha retorted.

“You are right….that is indeed old news. What about the altitude? Will it be a problem for Rhea?” Only a man who revels in making one excuse after another can ever hope to win against his wife.

“For somebody like you who has grown up on a diet of Asthalin 2Mg & 4Mg, it could be a problem…not for my daughter.” Rekha’s eyes were bloodshot…as if she was the woman Rajinikanth.

“But tell me…didn’t China occupy Nepal and mess up the country. Are you sure it is safe?”

“Wasn’t that Tibet?” Rekha shot back almost immediately. Mind you, her great grand mother once went out on a date with General Knowledge of the British Army.

“You mean Dalai Lama is not from Nepal? He sure looks like Thapa, our Nepali security guard.”

“No Rajan. What happened to your GK?”

“OK, if you insist we can visit Nepal. But what do I get?” Like I have said earlier, I am a hard bargainer.

“Well, the same rules that apply to Rhea apply to you. If you are a nice boy, you get what you want.”

I am looking forward to the vacation. And I checked…most good hotels in Nepal have internet.

Liked it? Subscribe to Ouchmytoe.com’s newsfeed Click Here

Rhea plays with her caterpillar

Rhea always get ready first and spends time with her toys before going to school. While she plays, we are running around, getting ready!

Valentine’s Day – the day is here again!

If you have ever been somebody’s Valentine, you would have noticed that more often than not the Valentine’s Day celebrations fade out with time. Being an average next door couple, we both have almost stopped celebrating this day.

Now, before you go ahead get judgmental, let me tell you that I am not a great fan of the Archies-driven & promoted days like Mother’s day, Sister’s day , Brother-in-Law day, Cat day Valentine’s day etc, but I like the fact that these days act as reminders in our busy lifestyle.

Both my life and wife weren’t so busy in the initial days, and as a result our Valenine’s days were a time to remember and celebrate our relationship.

Don’t believe me? Read what and how we celebrated in the past years below:
2004 was my first experience with the concept of Valentine’s day. Coming from a small town Madurai, I wasn’t aware of Valentine’s Day and it wasn’t a nice first experience. Read about my first experience of Valentine’s day.

Once you are married, the equations change a bit. If you ask me, men remain the same….the same crying babies they were before marriage….but the girls change. They change to women. Read how our first Valentine’s day after marriage was celebrated.

Since it was the first year after marriage, and since the Royalty hadn’t worn off yet…I even wrote a poem for Rekha. I know…you probably wonder…how can Jammy get mushy. Well, he did get mushy….thats what girls do to him. Do check out the poem Jammy wrote for Rekha in 2006.

In 2006, I also got to understand one huge secret about women – if they don’t like what you are giving them, they will ask its price. The moment Rekha received my bouquet of flowers that year, she asked: “So, how much did it cost you?”
Read more about how the Valentine’s Day conversation went.

After 2006, we never did celebrate the Valentine’s Day like regular couples. Though, there were instances when I gifted her an Old Monk bottle of rum…knowing that she doesn’t drink and I would have to finish it myself. There was also that instant when I gifted her Dining Table on Valentine’s day (we needed to buy our own dining table, and my plan was to kill two birds with one stone). And then there was that another instance when I gifted my used-for-only-one-and-a-half years Motorola Razor V3i mobile to Rekha on Valentine’s Day.

I don’t know what is coming up this year. Watch this space for more!

This is how Rekha gives Rhea her dinner

Categories
Family

My wife forces me to lie, when I am lying down

Marriage is a great institution. I mean, really. I have huge respect for it. While I got to agree that the driving institute where I learnt my driving does give a tight fight…the institution of marriage comes a definite first.

I will do anything to keep my, my wife’s and people’s faith in this institution called marriage. Even lie to my wife.

You perhaps just let out a gasp: “Lie to wife?” If you did…you are probably a woman. Or an unmarried man. If you just let out a smirk, and uttered: “Don’t we all?,” you are the scheming, plotting husband who doesn’t need a lesson in safe-guarding the institution of marriage.

But you know…really, I am not to be blamed. What is a self-respecting, handsome, 35-year-old man expected to do when he is surprised at 10.30 pm with a question such as: “If I die, will you re-marry?”

Let me break it up for you.

Last Sunday….after trying our best for an hour, we finally managed to make our daughter sleep at 9.30 pm. She yielded to the Mayawati-aunty-will-come-and-take-you-away threat. Just in case you didn’t know…all that Gabbar jazz doesn’t work anymore.

From 9.30 pm to 9.45 pm, we lay in bed, in a dark room, facing the ceiling…and to top it all our daughter slept like Jesus (arms extended) in between. It was a battle of the sexes. Finally, I had to speak up. I asked: “”Slept?

“Nope!” Rekha said. My wife doesn’t generally speak loudly….but when its night, and the room is dark…her voice can sometimes ring in the ears for up to 90 seconds.

After 90 seconds, I uttered: “Hmmm…”

“What hmmm…?” That was Rekha again.

Can somebody tell me…why is it that only the man should initiate? Why not the woman?

Since now the onus of replying to Rekha’s question “What hmmm…?” was on me, I replied: “Simply hmmm…”

Rekha quickly responded: “Better be simply hmmm…”

Another 5 minutes of silence followed. If you thought waiting outside a public toilet to take a dump, when somebody was inside is torture….let me tell you, waiting for the right moment when you are lying down in bed with your wife is a bigger torture. In the former you know the guy inside is going to come out sometime or the other….but in my case…there was this good chance that Rekha would sleep off.

After five minutes, I said: “Very silent huh?”

“Obviously. Its 10.15 pm and everybody is trying to sleep.”

“You are also trying to sleep?” I expressed my shock.

“Obviously. Tomorrow is Monday, and we need to start early.”

“Hmm…I was thinking, maybe we can play some golf?” I don’t know if I have told you earlier, but we Rajans are very persistent. We don’t give up till we get what we want.

“Rajan, I am too tired. BTW, what do you plan to do with your iPhone once you buy HTC Desire HD?”

“Well, I was planning to give it to my mother. She has been wanting to change her mobile.”

Considering the situation, it was the wrong answer. I should have said: “You can use it if you want.” But I had already spoken to my mother and told her that I would be passing on the iPhone to her.

“iPhone for a 55 year old lady? What if I take it and we give the mobile I am using to you mother?”

I wasn’t new to this. Many a times, just before tee-off time Rekha had asked for what she wanted and got it. This was no different.

“Sure, Rekha.”

I knew I couldn’t live without Golf, but my mother could manage without an iPhone.

“So, Golf now?” I asked confidently.

“One more thing…if I die, will you marry somebody else?”

In the dark, I could see Rekha turning towards me…trying to catch my expressions. I tried to hold back a smile…but couldn’t….so turned the other way.

“No Rekha. How can I even think of sharing my life with another woman?”

I don’t know if Rekha knows that these are all lies, and a lot will depend on the circumstances. I don’t know if she actually saw me smile, and ignored it for good. I don’t know why she even asks such questions. But the fact is, she forces me to lie, while lying down.

I wouldn’t go into the details of the excellent Golfing session. But at about 12 midnight, while staring at the ceiling in a dark room, I said: “Actually Rekha…I have been thinking. I don’t really know what I will do if you are no longer there. A lot will depend on the circumstances.”

There was no response. It has been a week now, and there have been no repercussions…so I would guess, she had slept by the time I decided to tell her the truth.

Categories
Current Affairs

Top 15 Jokes on Facebook buying Whatsapp

Joke 1: Facebook buys Whatsapp for $19 billion when they could have downloaded it for free!

Joke 2: Zuckerberg, if you are still into acquiring internet services that people spend enormous time on, may I suggest IRCTC. – Ramesh Srivats

Joke 3: One says Facebook bought Whatsapp for $19 Bn another says it was for $16 Bn. You reckon $3 Bn are hidden in their privacy settings? – @anushayadav

Joke 4: With Facebook taking over WhatsApp you can expect ads, pokes, spam Candy Crush Saga requests and bitstrips. Now then, where’s WeChat… – @scaryhairyman

Joke 5: People know many things. Mark Zuckerberg only two: Everything you say And everything you do – @fokkesukke

Joke 6: Facebook is buying everything where people pass time. Guess they’d buy the parliament next. – Faking News

Joke 7: Facebook Now Officially Owns Everything That Drains Out Our Phone’s Battery. – @SirJadeja

Joke 8: Buying WhatsApp: $16B Additional stock for employees: $3B Getting to evesdrop on 450 million people’s private conversations: priceless. – @aral

Joke 9: Facebook acquires Whatsapp. Now your messages will only reach 5% of your friends and you’ll have to pay to promote them to the rest. – @amreekandesi

Joke 10: Mark Zuckerberg’s one year Whatsapp subscription expired so he bought it – @SirJadeja

Joke 11: Dear Mark Zuckerberg, You own Facebook, Instagram and now Whatsapp. Basically, you have more information than NSA, RAW & ISI combined. – @KapilLaughs

Joke 12: Status of Mark: Can’t talk, WhatsApp only

Joke 13: Facebook buying Whatsapp: Is a deadly combination of ‘Seen on’ and ‘last seen at’!

Joke 14: Yes, we all know Facebook acquired WhatsApp this morning. Now wait for:
“Last seen at 11:30 pm with 47 other people in Goa having this amazing beer and here are 78 other photographs as proof” – Piyush Khandelwal

Joke 15: 2034: Facebook acquires Earth and you are a slave. – Shakti Prasad Biswal

More incoming:

Funny one: Mark Zuckerberg only needs to buy Twitter next year…he can be the king of WTF. – TK Srinivas

Categories
Growing Up

Doing for my daughter what my father did for me

Today we bought half of the total Amar Chitra Katha books ever printed for my three and a half year old daughter. To tell you the truth, I wanted to buy it and when my wife found the Rs 5000 mark a little high….I had to start firing from my daughter’s shoulders.

Not a bad bargain, though. For every one hour I spend with the Amar Chitra Katha comics…I need to spend 30 minutes reading them for Rhea. That’s not difficult because my daughter is a dedicated listener. Just in case you didn’t know….she already has 137 story books – more than what I had when I started working.

Rekha and I have a strategy. We plan to make Rhea the most well read person in our family by the time she turns 10. That should be easy, for the current most read person in our whole, extended family has only read 700 odd fiction & non-fiction books….and that’s me. If I were to include my school & college books the count could go up marginally.

Initially, my father wasn’t a book-friendly person…so till I was eight years old I hadn’t read anything other than my school books. The first time we had ever gone to a book stall was when we went to the park we frequented, and somebody had set up a few book stalls. We roamed around for a while, and when I pestered my father he grudgingly bought me Swami Vivekananda’s book titled Raja Yoga only because it was subsidized and could be bought for only Rs 3. Mind you, back then I was only 9 years old…..and I was being bought Swami Vivekananda’s book titled Raja Yoga.

I wouldn’t have managed to read so many books if my father hadn’t changed mid-way. I want to do for Rhea, what my father did for me.

In the mid 80s my father was posted in Sikkim and couldn’t take his family along (or maybe he was fooling my mom….its too late to delve into it now) and thus he got us a rented accommodation in Chennai in 1985 and asked us to stay there till his 2 years tenure at Sikkim got over. He enrolled me and my sisters at CRPF Kendriya Vidhyalaya, Avadi and went back to Sikkim.

My father came back in three months – on a 10-day break – to see if we had settled down. We had indeed settled down well but there was one small issue: The evenings were boring because our father wasn’t there.

My father spent time thinking and then approached me: “Rajan, you like making stories, right?”

“Yes, father.” Sometimes my father would state the obvious.

“Yes I remember your very first story…about a Jeep that had no driver but ran over dog shit….and then drove on the grass to remove the dog shit from the tires.”

*Guys, its true…apparently this was the first story I narrated when I was four years old. My mother still narrates it to our relatives & friends.

“Yes, father….but why think of that now. I am 10 years old now…and have better stories to tell.”

“Wouldn’t you want to know the stories others are trying to tell?”

“Sure pa…but how do I do that?” I was curious now. He had caught my attention.

The same evening we walked to a rental library in Ambattur, Chennai and I got my first library membership card. I know you won’t believe it but my membership card number was 786. Yes, 786! Wish I had it now to scan it and prove it to you guys.

The deal was simple…I could borrow a book for a fortnight, and if I returned it in a fortnight I would be charged Rs 2. If I returned it within the week, I would be charged Rs 1. And we could rent a maximum of 3 books at the same time.

Once we were out of the library, my father held my hand and said: “Rajan, you should read as many books as possible. Ok?”

“Sure pa.”

“And one more thing….you should try and read exactly five books in a month.”

“Why pa?”

My father didn’t answer my question and we walked back home. I kept wondering why I had to read exactly five books in a month.

I also tried to ask him why he had changed…why was he now willing to spend money on books. But he brushed me aside saying he would explain when I could understand.

After his casual leave was over, my father left for Sikkim.

After a few days when I started for the library, my mother reminded me: “Rajan, remember the five books rule.”

“Sure I would. But why should I read exactly five books every month?”

My mother smiled. But behind the smile there was an expression which I was too young to understand. Even as I wondered if I had asked the wrong question, my mother answered: “That’s because your library budget is Rs 10. Your father can afford to send us Rs 1500, out of which we can afford to earmark Rs 10 for your library.”

I didn’t say anything. Back in those days ten-year-olds were smart enough to understand money. My mother continued: “That’s why, if you read anything less than five books in a month…you are under-utilizing what we think we owe you. And if you read more than five books…we can’t afford it.”

From that day, I devised my strategy to read as many books as possible by giving away the minimum amount of money. Here is what I did:

  • I visited the library almost everyday, and learnt the art of finishing individual Amar Chitra Katha comics in 10 minutes flat. That’s at least 25 books in as many days.
  • I would borrow two books every week and finish them both within seven days

This way, I was able to complete at least 25+8 books = 33 books….and instead of paying Rs 66 at the end of the month we were paying only Rs 8. I was saving my parents Rs 2 every month.

Mind you, back then CRPF Kendriya Vidhyalaya, Avadi, Chennai allowed only children in classes nine and above to borrow books – others only got to read during the library period.

When we shifted to Kendriya Vidhyala, Ballugunge, Kolkata….two miracles happened for me. First…the school allowed students of eight standard to borrow books and second, I got a study desk of my own which made reading books easy.

By now I was always seen with a book. If at all, an individual has taken a book inside an Indian lavatory, it ought to be me. Let me assure you that reading a book inside an Indian lavatory is like balancing on a rope – hold the tap with one hand, and hold the book with another. You had to turn the pages in 1/3 of a second – just the time it takes to lose your balance when you are not holding the tap.

When in class eight, I moved out from Franklin W Dixon’s Hardy Boys series and Carolyn Keene’s Nancy Drew series to Alister Maclean’s books like Force 10 From Navarone, Where Eagles Dare, Fear is the Key etc. Not to mention authors like Douglas Reeman (an amazing Naval story teller. He wrote looks like A Prayer for the Ship, Send a Gunboat, The Last Raider etc), CS Forrester (another Naval warfare story teller with books titled Hornblower in the West Indies, Hunting the Bismarck and The Man in the Yellow Raft) and Jack Higgins’ (I liked him for his outlandish plots in books like The Eagle has Landed, The Savage Day etc).

*Maybe I read too much of the Naval story tellers, and that’s why when asked to choose between the Naval, Army or Air Force wing of NCC in College….I chose Naval Wing. Not knowing that being in the Naval Wing of NCC meant washing your uniform every week.

Over the years my preferences in books have kept on changing, and now I only read humor books. My favourite authors of today are Bill Cosby, Sue Townsend, Erma Bombeck, PG Wodehouse, Dave Barry etc. Now-a-days, I spend at least 2-3 days – reading reviews – and deciding if I need to buy a particular book. I also don’t read as much as I would like because my work, wife and daughter keep me busy. But as soon as I finish reading a good book, I thank my father for introducing me to the concept of reading.

——-X——-X——-

It was 2005 – one year after Rekha and I got married – my father was diagnosed with Oesophagal cancer. A dangerous disease if it happens to somebody you love…and a black hole if it happens to somebody you don’t personally know.

Both Rekha and I were working in Chennai and we spent every weekend in Madurai, to help out my mother who was almost single-handedly helping my father fight the dreaded disease.

On one such weekend, after spending the Saturday night at the Apollo Hospital with my ailing father….I started to leave for home. For no reason, I turned towards my father and said: “Father, do you want me to get something from home? I will be back by 12 noon.”

My father thought for a while and said: “Bring me the best book you have read. I feel like reading something today.”

At 12 noon, when I gave him the tattered, old Swami Vivekananda’s Raja Yoga book, he took it and kept staring at the ceiling for a while and then turned away to hide his tears. But he didn’t succeed.

We sat there holding hands and not saying anything. I didn’t try to hide my tears for I wanted him to know that he had bought the best book I had ever read.

One month later, as I sat next to him he breathed his last. The good part is, the seed he had sowed is now a tree…and some day his life just might be a book.

PS: Rhea loves Amar Chitra Katha…the two of us spent an hour today with the story of Karna.

Lesson on how to play sister vs sister

Rekha’s elder sister Rema is visiting us with her seven year old son. If I weren’t a good human being, I would have created a big scene.

Rema is the one who is married to the better of the two son-in-laws. Sudhir Nambiar is tall, fair, handsome….with a nice thick mustache that makes up for a complete Keralite bridegroom.

No wonder my father in law Mr Chandrashekaran told Rekha (when she first told him that she loved me and wanted to get married to me): “Rajan is short, dark, ugly…why couldn’t you find somebody like Sudhir to fall in love with?”

Thankfully, Rekha cut out the ugly parts and only shared the relatively better parts of the conversation with me. Else I would have lost my self-esteem.

I don’t think Ouchmytoe.com is the right platform to share that between the two sisters….it is Rekha that loses. Rema is prettier, has curly hair that looks so good on Malayali girls, still maintains a sub-30 size, and is a lawyer by profession. In turn, Rekha after the whole of last month on the treadmill has only just managed to break into the sub-40 waist size.

Anyway, as you are all aware my in-laws have been staying with us for the last couple of months. So, when Rema decided to visit India…. one half of her India vacation had to be here in Gurgaon with us.

The day Rekha knew that her elder sister was visiting, she brought out her finest cutlery, took out her best bed-sheets, replaced the almost-invisible bathing soaps in the washrooms, and also started using washing powder to wash our clothes. As for me, she forced me to use the winter cream saying, it made me look younger. She also gifted me a L’Oreal Go 360 Clean Deep Facial Cleanser and said: “This will not make you like Sudhir, but it will take you closer.”

On the day Rema had to be picked up at the airport, Rekha said: “Are you coming?”

“Where?”

“Remember, I told you my sister Rema is coming today?” She looked at me enquiringly.

“Ahhh! I forgot. Is it as big as forgetting an anniversary? I hope not.”

“Don’t duck the question. What plans to pick her up?” She continued her enquiring look.

I sometimes feel whether women have trouble changing their expressions…look at Sushmita Sen for example…when she won the Miss Universe title…she kept that surprised look for weeks.

“I was thinking of SMS-ing her the driver’s number, and she can call him the moment she gets down from her plane.”

“That’s a bad idea. Remember, being her younger sister, I grew up wearing her clothes….so I owe her better. I am going, and I want you to come with me.” Needless to say, she continued her enquiring look.

In marriage, like in international diplomacy, one resorts to the past to settle disputes. I dug deep into the past and came up with a gem of the response which put off Rekha.

“But Rekha, when my mother was coming to Gurgaon two years back…you refused to come with me to pick her up. Though I didn’t grow up wearing my mother’s clothes….I still had to go and pick her up. But back then, you said why have two where one could do the job.”

Anyway, as planned Rekha picked up Rema and her son Anupam (another tall, fair and handsome chap….only without the mustache) and ended up at our home.

As luck would have it, that day I got busy at office and reached home at 8.00 p.m..

“You came late on purpose, didn’t you?” Rekha asked me once we were alone.

“What? Why?”

“Rema’s coming to our house doesn’t excite you, right? Why else would suddenly you get late at office?”

“No no…seriously, I am excited. In fact I am looking forward to lots of interesting conversations on climate change, Carbon footprints, oil price hike, rising prices of onions and ex Kerala Chief Minister Karunakaran’s death.”

“You seem too excited? This isn’t good…she is my sister…remember that.”

Rekha confused me with her response, but I was used to it.

Two days went by without any untoward incident – well, if I can avoid calling that dropping-of-hot-milk-on-my-feet-by-Anupam incident as untoward.

On the third day morning, Rekha accosted me while I was leaving for office.

With our house full of Rekha’s relatives…she was having trouble having private conversations with me. She had to catch me alone to mention romantic sentences like “Can you drop the cheque at HSBC today?” “Pls don’t forget to call the electrician today” or “Did you remind those guys about Rhea’s passport?”

After romantically requesting me to call the computer hardware guy who will solve our printer issue, she asked me: “Why do you stay aloof? My sister is not a monster.”

“Why? I really like your sister. Seriously.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, I find her to be prettier than you. I also feel if we had met before she got married to Sudhir Nambiar, we would have hit it off well.”

“Hmmm….” That’s all Rekha could manage. I could see her thinking really hard. And then she asked me: “So, what do you like most about my sister?”

“I like her curly hair. She looks gorgeous in them.” I replied and looked away…seeing if the lift had arrived at the 10th floor.

It has been two days since this discussion, and Rekha doesn’t bother me about her sister anymore. In fact, she didn’t even ask me to come along when she left to drop Rema today morning at the airport.

She only said: “I am going to drop my sister. Will be late, have a few more places to visit.”

I am guessing that after dropping her sister Rema and Anupam at the airport, she would be visiting a beautician – to curl her hair perhaps.