Golden rule of marriage remains unbroken

This Friday Rekha read my blog after a long time and as expected wasn`t impressed with the way I had been projecting her to the World. After leaving damaging comments (which I have deleted now) she decided to call me at office.

“I would like to discuss our marriage with you,” Rekha roared into the mouth piece.

“Discuss our marriage? Why? Are you going to divorce me?” I tried to hide my excitement.

“Divorce?” Rekha was surprised by my question. This is the problem with the typical Indian middle class woman…divorce isn`t an option.

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“You are just trying to make me happy…right? You don`t really mean divorce?” I was finding it difficult to hide my excitement. In my mind, I had already proposed to one of the pretty interns working in my office….she had accepted….and we had started staying together.

“Rajan, listen…I have realized that our marriage isn`t going anywhere…what time will you be coming home today?”

In our house the rules are simple…when Rekha wants something she gets it – starting from A for Apple to Z for Zits (also known as pimples). So, there I was…at 8 p.m., sitting in front of her.

“Rajan, I don`t like how our married life has been moving forward,” Rekha broke the silence.

“I don`t understand. I have given you a pretty daughter who goes to a good school, you have a credit card whose bill gets paid from my salary at the end of the month, you make three trips a year to visit your parents…what is NOT right?”

“I donno…remember you used to say that our Suzuki Swift was great only in the first year. I get the same feeling about you,” Rekha was looking away…at the ceiling. Perhaps, because it hurt her that she was hurting me. Or perhaps because, she remembered I hadn`t cleaned the ceiling fan in a long time.

“Rekha…we spent 4-5 years together before marriage. So the accusation that I have changed after the first year is wrong. Besides, you have changed me so much after marriage that I am no longer the guy you had fallen in love with.”

I remembered a recent quote I had read, and almost let out a smile. Thank God Rekha was still looking at the shoe rack. The quote was: When a man and a woman marry, they become one. The trouble begins when they decide which one.

Rekha was still looking at the shoe rack. Now I was sure that she was going to bring up my irregular cleaning schedule next.

“Rajan, just because you bring in all the money doesn`t mean you are the boss of the house. I do so much of house work….if only it could be translated into money.”

Now Rekha was looking at the center table. She ran the tip of her index finger across the length of the table and picked up a layer of dust.

I could have right then told her that her best effort at house work wasn`t enough…and pointed to the layer of dust on the center table. But having the Rajans blood in the veins is a big disadvantage…you can`t BUT be a gentleman with a lady.

“Rekha, for starters you don`t let me be the boss. You act like a worker`s union and drown all my suggestions with the threat of a union strike.”

“Why do you consider me an outsider? Talking of drowning, I wish I could drown all my sorrows…but you never go for swimming.” There was a tinge of regret in Rekha`s voice which meant she wasn`t joking.

“Rekha, I joke on my blog and NOT when my married life is at stake,” I said. Long back I had learnt that girls (my wife included) liked it when you were funny, but they can`t live their lives with somebody who doesn`t take anything seriously.

Rekha looked at me….right into my eyes. I returned the stare. We must have looked at each other for close to 60 seconds….but it seemed like ages. Not long back we would stare into each other`s eyes for more than two hours and then rush to the bedroom for private moments. Time does play a cruel joke on lovers…with time familiarity starts breeding contempt and aging doesn`t help either.

Rekha woke me up from my thoughts on the concept of time and its effects on lovers: “And what about all these blog posts you write in my absence? Like the ones titled I am looking for a birthday partner.

“Rekha, if you hadn`t left me alone in Gurgaon and gone visiting your parents …especially on my birthday… why would I go after Priyanka Khattri? Though I have to agree that she was good.”

My evil mind started racing back to my last birthday…when Priyanka and I spent the day together. And I was about to smile the Prem Chopra way, when Rekha let go of her torpedo. She said: “Not taking you along was good because it was half the cost and double the fun.”

Still think of Priyanka Khattri, I retorted: “You always do this to me. Even when you were in Gurgaon, I never knew where you spent your evenings?”

Rekha started looking at the small book shelf we have in the corner of our drawing room, and casually remarked: “You know what…if you had come home in the evenings…you would have found me at home.”

From Rekha`s tone I could gather that she was really upset. The problem with the Rajans is that they can never see a girl in trouble, even if she was now a woman with a two and a half year old daughter in tow.

I ended up blurting: “Rekha, then lets re-live the old days…lets go out and have fun. What do you say?”

“Sure. I will take the baby with me. You just leave the lights on the verandah switched on, just in case I return before you do.”

We Rajans are magnanimous. But when it comes to self respect we have a lot of it. So an insult is an insult…even if it was from the wife. I didn`t respond & left the drawing room.

10.30 p.m.

Rekha was already in bed when I switched off the lights in the study and entered the bedroom. As I had expected, the baby daughter was in middle today (that always happened on ‘fight` days). I was still fuming inside.

In the dark, Rekha asked me: “Is everything shut up?”

The Prem Chopra in me emerged in the dark and I sent out a sarcastic reply: “Yeah Rekha. Everything else is shut.”

There was no response.

11.30 p.m.

I could sense Rekha turning and twisting. I was doing the same. When we had got married, we had set only one rule in our marriage…that a fight had to be solved that very day. And it looked like we were about to break that promise in the fifth year of our marriage.

I had to do something. In the dark, I turned towards her and asked: “Still awake?”

She let out an as-if-you-care “Yes.”

My heart went out to her. Being the good man that I am, I turned towards her again and said: “Rekha, if I had to start all over again…I will still marry you.”

It was at least 30 seconds before I heard a reply. “That`s what you think.”

The room suddenly seemed hot. But before I could say anything nasty, a familiar hand held mine and gave it a gentle squeeze. While I lay looking at the dirty fan, I heard her say: “Hey, I was joking stupid. We aren`t breaking our golden rule today. We will save it for later.”

Other Funny Reads

Funny Post 1: Sleep as much as you want, while you can
Funny Post 2: Drinking with the wolves
Funny Post 3: Rekha and I visit Mocha, Chennai
Funny Post 4: Rekha and I visit Mocha, Chennai
Funny Post 5: When the Rajasthan Govt gifted me a camel

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Hair growth on your ears? Remove them!

For the last 8-9 years of my life, there has been one outstanding feature of my personality – my ears….to be more specific, the hair on my ears.

Legend is that when the local barber`s scissors ran over my father`s hair…the neighboring village knew that my father was having a haircut. His hair was so strong and resisted death so much. But he lacked one feature…he didn`t have hair on his ears.

I remember studying in school that sometimes a particular gene is left in one generation and re-appears in the next – a phenomenon called Atavism (More on Atavism). Maybe, I have my grandpa to blame for the black, bushy set of hair on my ears.

Anyway, when I was 24 and the growth had just begun I asked my mother what this was and being the shy lady that she is, she just said: “Son, this means you are becoming a man. Now, start behaving like one.”

For the next nine years…I fought the battle alone. Today, I paid Rs 10,000 to VLCC (Vandana Luthra’s Cuts and Curves – yes, this is what VLCC means!) and now we will fight the battle together.

Best cure for Swine Flu – Laughter

Swine Flu is like Susan Boyle. It hasn’t really done much, but anyone with an internet connection has heard of it. – Read somewhere on the internet [Not heard of Susan Boyle?]

I know this article on Swine Flu is late. By the time you read this, it might not even be fashionable to speak about Swine Flu…but what could I do…there weren`t enough Swine Flu jokes on internet that I could copy.

The last time a girl called me a PIG, I thanked her for calling me a Pretty Indian Guy. But now times have changed and the same retort doesn`t hold good. Girls have started calling me a SWINE.

Waking up early and related sub-plots

As you are all aware, my grand father was a farmer-shepherd. My father interned as a shepherd before finding out that it wasn`t his calling and moved to farming. Farming involved getting up early and sleep walking to the fields two kilometers away, with two well built bullocks pulling you along.

Twenty days into farming, my father decided sleep was not something he was going to compromise on. So, he ran away to join the Military.

It is only these days that the kids don`t leave the first rope (read parents) till they find the second rope (read well paying jobs)… back then, youngsters didn`t mind letting go of the first rope even before the second rope was visible.

Categories
Men and Women

They start loving young these days

Way back in 1963 when India was reeling under the pressures of the 1962 Indo-China war, and the scammed Defence Minister VK Krishna Menon was cooling his heels God knows where (perhaps in God own Country), a 16 year old village girl was falling in love.

Selvi was in love with the shepherd who took his 100 odd goats to the meadows, from in front of her house. He looked strong, had enough goats and had once smiled too – meaning he can be made happy. She decided to get married to him. But God had other plans for her.

Forty six years later, my mother tells me that she didn`t have the courage to walk up to her father and tell him that she loved a shepherd and NOT the Armyman he had planned for her. But as always happens, God had other plans…she married the Armyman – my father.

In stark contrast is what we experienced in Rhea`s Parents Teachers Association Meeting yesterday at Modern Montessori International at Gurgaon. Here is how it unfolds.

The watch man at the school gates looked at my two and a half years old daughter, who was safely cocooned in Rekha`s arms and said: “Hey Rhea, how are you and what plans for the weekend?”

I wanted to turn into a ventriloquist and speak out in Rhea`s voice: “Actually uncle, this weekend I plan to pee & shit in my diapers 13 times, mince my fingers in between the doors once, smell a rose bush and in the process pierce my nose with a thorn.”

But I didn`t because I can`t mimic Rhea, yet.

We then met the receptionist of the school – a very pretty lady. The problem with attending a PTA meeting is that, you can`t pretend that you are unmarried. Even if you manage to convince that you are unmarried, where will you hide your child? Let us say you are a Mr Natwarlal and manage to hide your child….what do you do with your wife?

Considering all these constraints, I didn`t look at the receptionist in the eyes and say: “You looking pretty, today. What do you think of me?” Besides, Rekha was right behind me.

[Know the famous Johnny Bravo line: “You smell kinda pretty. Wanna smell me?”]

But I did gather the courage to discuss the receptionist`s beauty with my wife.

“She is very pretty. Isn`t she?” I insisted.

“Every woman is pretty. And she is definitely pretty.” Rekha callously remarked.

“Should I compliment her?” I asked.

“Why? Are you her boy friend? Or Husband?” My wife has these pre-conceived notions that certain compliments can be given by only certain people.

“I don`t need to be her boy friend to compliment her. But if you want me to become her boy friend first and then compliment, I am fine.” A husband shouldn`t always be scared of his wife. He should learn to raise his voice when he is right.

The problem with being a very obedient husband is that you aren`t expected to raise your voice and when you do you are silenced with a killer stare.

Anyway, finally we got down to what we had come for – the Parents Teachers Association Meeting. Here is what Rhea`s teachers had to say about Rhea. As always, expert comments in the brackets have been provided by me.

1) Very affectionate child (just like how her father is with all the women)
2) Loves Rhyme Time (just like how her father is. At one point in his life he was multi-timing with Kavita, Geeta, & Sunita – all rhyming names)
3) She sticks to the single Malayali teacher in the Play Group (Differs with her father here. He holds no such communal bias when it comes to women)

As we were getting out of her class room, the maid who attends to the Play Group looked at us and laughed. She then pointed us out for another maid, who came running to see us. And laughed.

That`s when my antennae went up and I asked them: “What happened?”

Apparently, Rhea has a boy friend in school. His name is Yashyash. We were told they are always together…sitting in class, having snacks together and having lunch together.

We didn`t make much of it and went to the book exhibition that the school had worked out inside its walls. There we met five parents and all of them told us that Rhea and Yashyash are an item. One even said they were like Shahid and Kareena…oops…like Saif and Kareena.

Being a protective father, I asked the fifth lady parent: “How are you so sure?”

She was calm and replied: “I see them daily while dropping and picking up my son. They are always together.”

“Does Yashyash also travel in the same bus?” I asked.

“Please don`t think I am complaining but…yes…they hold hands and get onto the bus and sit next to each other,” She said sheepishly.

“And then?” I was fuming and curious to know the whole story.

“And then, they sleep off on each other,” She said. And added as an after thought: “I mean, they just doze off and get picked at their respective bus stops by their mothers.”

Post Script: On the way back, I did a litmus test of Rhea`s love. I asked her: “Rhea, whom do you love most?” I was hoping she would say ‘Appa` and Rekha was hoping she would say ‘Amma`….but Rhea ended up saying ‘Yashyash.`

More Funny Reads

# Love and hate relationships with wives
# When Ram suspected Sita
# Natural child birth is painful for the husband too
# Group dynamics in a married man`s house

How to manipulate a man

If you are a married lady this article will be of great use to you. If you are a girl and grappling with a boy friend, this article can help you to handle your boy friend better. And if you are a guy, be warned…the lady of your life might be reading Ouchmytoe.com.

In this article we will look at how a woman can dominate her man and enslave him. If you are a woman and don`t have the time to read the whole article, here is the gist:

Categories
Family

Taj Mahal – the untold story

Sucking up to your boss can take you places. But it can`t take your mom places too…so when my mother wanted to see the Taj Mahal, I had to plan the trip myself.

Ever since my father fell to Cancer in 2005, my mother has lived a lonely existence. She keeps visiting her three children but goes back to the nest that her husband built for her with his post-retirement funds. So, when she is with us and wants anything done…no questions asked…it gets done.

“Son, I would like to visit Agra,” It was my mom talking.

“Why?” I enquired.

“Haven`t you heard of Taj Mahal? It is in Agra.” It was my mom talking, again.

Finding a play school for Rhea in Gurgaon

Our daughter is just two years and three months but keeping in with the family tradition we have decided to push her into hell when she least expects it. After all, why shouldn`t we revenge what was done to us?

Rekha`s initial list has ten play schools – play schools that made it to the quarter finals. After speaking to a few parents, reading up the internet on playschools in Gurgaon…she finalized the three semifinalists – Modern Montessori International Gurgaon, iDiscoveri Gurgaon and Kara For Kids. You probably wonder how can there be three semi-finalists? Well…in my house my wife decides…so park your thoughts please.

The first school we visited was Modern Montessori International at Sector 40 in Gurgaon. Just as we entered the gates, I heard the security guard say, “Hi….baby. What is your name?”