What would I want to change about him?

He tends to keep what he is feeling to himself. I’d really love to hear the dreaded words, “Honey, we need to talk” or, anything else to that effect, to actually understand what on earth is going on, all the time, in that big head of his & which, no one, I repeat, no one is privy to. What is the big deal about not wanting to share? I can never figure that out. I keep telling him, he’ll one day fall sick with all those secrets & things he keeps buried in his heart & he says he’d prefer that to pouring it all out. Arrrgh!!

I’d like to change his eating & sleeping habits. Odd hours & inadequate sleep plus inordinate amounts of food gulped down at the wrong times is a sure fire recipe for extremely unhealthy. Does he listen to the in-house dietician/nutritionist, i.e. me? NO. Does it matter that I’ve read “Don't Lose your Mind, Lose your Weight” start to finish AND backwards & completely assimilated what Rujuta shared? NO. Does it matter that I offer my invaluable services absolutely free of charge to my only client, my one & only husband? No. What matters to him is: Cook lovingly, serve lovingly, rest leave it. Shobha De, you were right. You wrote the very same thing in “Surviving Men” But how can I live with the fact that I married a lean & fit man, who now increasingly resembles Eddie Murphy in The Nutty Professor or at least, that is what my worst fears are.

I hate his snoring too. And when I say that, I must be speaking on behalf of one half of the entire female population who feel that about the men in their life whether father/brother or husband!

I want to go down on my knee & plead to him, “Can we please, in the name of all the Gods you believe in, limit your passion, your love, your fervor, your devotion & your reverence, FOR BEER, to just the weekend? Can we come to a settlement that Monday to Friday is strictly No Beer Days?” And please stop saying I must have beer because there is an important match today or they won, so I need to celebrate or oh! they lost, so I need to mourn or today is the first day of salary, so time for beer or today is the last day of salary, so beer. No, please none of that already! I have had enough of your love affair with that bottle. (Mr. Mallya, if you are reading this, I hate you!!)

But frankly, I can & I’ve lived with all of that. I can still pardon it (if he ever gets around to reading this post, I can see him glowering, particularly at the word ‘pardon’) What I really want him to know is that, the basic function of a phone, irrespective of whether it is priced at Rs 3000 or Rs 30,000, is to make a call & receive a call, especially during an emergency.

And the definition of emergency is: whenever your dear wife calls! Unlike in the dark ages, when you received a telegram after the person was dead & buried, or, if you are lucky, while he was breathing his last, mobile technology & all the features & the hundred and more things it does, means nothing to me, your wife, if you don’t receive my call. No, seriously, I don’t care what miracles your phone is capable of doing. The only feature I’m interested in is the one that lets you receive my call. Excuses like ‘it was in my trouser pocket’; ‘I was too drunk to hear it ringing’ ‘it was in silent mode’ won’t work. If you are too busy downing one pitcher of beer after another, & have no time in the world to pick up your phone, please kindly do this just one time: take your phone out of your pocket, search my number, press the call button, & for heaven’s sake utter these precious words: “I’ll be late”. That’s all I ask.

And the change I want to see in myself? To stop expecting seeing any change in him!

Ah! Wait! But THAT I can’t do!

जब तक जान रहेगी, ये इन्तेहाँ रहेगी, की काश ...

which is Hindi for As long as I live, I will continue to wish …

Chivalry: A Thing of the Past?

A research article (in ‘Psychology of Women’) termed chivalry to be “benevolent sexism”. It says, “Benevolent sexism is using ‘he’ to refer to an unknown person, helping a woman carry her shopping bags, or choosing to drive on long-distance journeys. It implies a woman cannot do these things without a man’s help”. I do know women who find it condescending; they’re independent, can ‘afford’ their bill & are capable of doing stuff on their own. The article calls it paternalistic treatment, ‘a woman being cherished or protected by men’.

I am one woman who likes being protected & cherished by a man. There. I said it.

I've had men who opened doors for me, or waited for me to enter the lift, or let me go ahead first into a room, or pulled the chair, or paid the bill on our first meeting. I’m not offended when a man offers to carry a heavy shopping bag or stands like a china wall between me & an unruly crowd in a bus or a cinema hall. I’ve come out feeling good about the experience & nice about him. I’m a lady & would like to be treated like one. And if a man is man enough to do that, I’m impressed. For all my “modern” ideas, I love feeling special & when a man does that, muah to him.

I remember once, Sathya, his friends, & I, had gone to this waterfalls place. And me being me, when I see a rock, I want to climb. It’s like a dog wanting to piss whenever it sees a pole! I set off; excited, & started climbing a rock. I must’ve slipped a bit because I saw his hands stretching out to me. I reacted saying, “HOGO (Go ya) I know what I’m doing.” He & his friends were amused; their instinctive reaction is to help a girl in a situation like this. He backed off & waited for me to join him at the top. And I did; on my own. At times like these, I don’t need a man to do the “helping a damsel in distress” drill. It’s simply not required. It wasn’t a social situation but an adventurous one. Formal situations are different. In a social set-up, if a man offers to get me a drink or a plate or a napkin or a chair, I find it endearing.

I don’t necessarily expect a man to do all this. But if he does, & not just for me; but for any woman, young or old, irrespective of his romantic inclinations, I’d be pleased by the gesture. I appreciate men who do it naturally, without trying to make an impression. I don’t know why feminists cry foul over this; after all, there are greater issues to fight for. This is not one of them. I don’t think a man who pays the bill thinks you’re a beggar & can’t afford your food. Similarly, holding the door open for someone coming in after you is courtesy. And if a man sees me home at night it’s because he wants to ensure I reach safely. That’s no reason for a war of the genders.

I dislike women who try to impress an unsuspecting guy with their daintiness & trick him into being extra nice; the ones who pretend to be delicate darlings; those who walk all fragile & fairy-like when draped in a sari & expect a man to hold their pallu or purse or mobile or head; or those who drink water like its ‘amrith’, one drop at a time; or those who eat meat like this is their 1st time (back home they’d devour an entire animal with just 1 hand) or……you get the picture right? Pls don’t try to be like a lady; if you are not, to hell with it. Jut be yourself, be whatever or whoever you’re – Tomb Raider, Cat woman, Kill Bill – but don’t fake being feminine just to extract chivalry from a gentleman & be treated like a VVIP at his expense.

Chivalry is simple courtesy. And it’d work both ways: if a man holds the door open for you, say a ‘thank you’ in return. Chivalry & good manners should be in BOTH the genders. Wish the concept was not limited to the things men do for women but extended to include things that people do for ‘others’.

What attracts you to a bad boy?

For some strange reasons, all bad boys are very attractive. Listed here are some of the “strange” reasons. Bad boys are nothing short of a thrilling conquest. There’s always a surprise element to them. Nothing’s ever easy with them & they are a mystery that we, the slightly more daring ones, love to solve. They keep the equation fresh & enticing. They goad you on, to want to experience a part of life that you might have been hesitant to try by yourself. They have a mind of their own & are not afraid to go after things. So, when it finally dawns on you, that “I am what he wants”, it sure is a massive turn-on. They are just SO WRONG, they make life exciting!

Like always, I speak from experience. Sathya is the epitome of a bad boy: charming with a killer sense of humor; extremely witty with a dare-devil attitude; always the bully - never the victim; aggressive, passionate. If you think I’m writing a eulogy of my husband, here’s the part that may (or may not) be music to your ears: bad boys don’t necessarily make great husbands.

After you’ve dried up the fuel tank of your Karizma, zipping past long, endless roads, you realize that you have to now get down to the business of living. And living means – the dishes, the garbage, the raising of kids, the timely payment of bills (your house owner cares two hoots for your handsome husband’s sense of humor), the vehicle upkeep, the groceries, the medical needs, the lousy days, the end-of-the-month dry days (ATMs can’t give you what you don’t already have!!), the messy kitchen, the even messier laundry … so on & so forth.

Expecting your bad boy to give a helping hand here, are you? That’s expecting TOO much, darling. Can’t you see, he is busy entertaining the world, so that it eventually acknowledges how boring this planet could be without him? Now, cut him some slack, will you? Didn’t you promise him, that you would be his perfect wife & would be ready to do anything for him? Isn’t it time you lived up to your promises, baby? What? You say he made those very same promises to you too? Well, do you really want us to believe, that you took his words seriously? Did you forget that those mesmerizing words rolled off his tongue, on one of those drunken nights while on the dance floor, swaying to the music in one of those by the pool-side, roof top pubs? Come on now. You know better than to be carried away by a man & his spirits.

Have you ever read the instructions printed on a cigarette pack, dear? It says, ‘Smoking is injurious to health’. It applies quite beautifully, & might I add perfectly, to this rare human species called “bad boys”. They are injurious to your health. And to your temperament. And to your sanity. And to your wallet (sometimes!!). And to your craving for the semblance of a normal life. And to your ideas of happily ever after. And to your Facebook-worthy, perfect- family photo shoots. They are injurious, alright, particularly, if you’re the pukka family or gharelu type.

But if this didn’t scare you, then listen on. After the dizzy days have all gone & the romance has ebbed & flowed, do you still love him enough to want to put up with a lot of what some might call “crap”? Do you still find yourself waiting for him, with the same longing that once marked your wild days? Do you still feel you couldn’t be happier without him, even on days & especially, on days when you want to kill yourself for marrying him? If yes, go make a life together. There couldn’t be two people more ‘made for each other’ than the two of you. He is good fun. The trick is in making it work. God bless!

The Men in My Life

Raju Gopal Shetty: My Father

He was a complete foodie. Even in places of worship, he’d invariably be busy searching for good non-veg hotels. My love for non-veg food, short-temper & impatience comes from him. He pampered & spoilt me silly.

I was beaten the least. As a child, I used to do ‘susu’ at the very sight of the cane. The red lines on the legs & hands, on the rare occasions that I was beaten, used to last for days. The physical pain seemed to increase with all our combined howling. Lateron, the sisak sisak ke rona. I wanted to grow up as fast as I could to escape the corporal punishment.

He passed away on 11th Jan ’97. I didn’t cry or mourn or miss him that much, at least not as much as I was expected to! But I missed him a lot when I got married. Later, when my mother-in-law hurt me, I missed him some more. I wanted him to beat her black & blue! Had he been alive, he would’ve scared the day lights out of her.

I live in hope Pappa. Hope you’ll “deal” with her in hell.

Santosh: My Virgo Brother

My one & only brother. Younger than me by 3 years & older than Sathya by 2 months!! Very reserved & polite. He can do no harm to anyone. Minds his own business. Has few friends; all of them life-long friends. Extremely sensitive. Especially to what others say. Many times, I’d say something completely harmless & he’d be hurt & stop speaking to me for weeks & months! And I wouldn’t even know what hurt him in the 1st place! My mother always mediated.

Now that she is no more, & he has stopped talking again, I’m waiting for a miracle to break the ice between us.

Binu: My Taurean First Love

I met him in ‘95. I was 18. He was exactly 2 years, 2 months, 2 days older than me! We were class-mates in college, degree. We fell in love & stayed committed to one another for almost 8 years. Till 2005!! The year I married Sathya. I don’t regret it.

I only feel very sad, even now, when I think of the immense hurt I caused his parents. Chachan & ammachi loved me like their daughter, not (future) daughter-in-law. I hurt them a lot by my decision. They gave me lots of love. I gave them pain. I am very sorry.

I’ve already suffered for that – thanks to my mother-in-law. Maine apne karmo ke phal isi janam mein bhugat liye. Ab naye janam mein nayi kahani – happy wali kahani :) . Hopefully!

Kishore: My Virgo Friend

We met in Mangalore University. He was my senior from the Journalism department. He had feelings for me & wanted to marry me but I just couldn’t reciprocate. He was extremely hard-working, persevering & honest. To this day, I respect him a lot & hold dear the sincerity of his affections for me.

After passing out, he mostly corresponded through letters. I used to read & reread his letters because they were all written in impeccable Kannada. Each letter was a masterpiece. I used to also gape at his handwriting. It was so amazing you’ll marvel at its beauty. Sadly, I was forced to cut off all contacts with him. Last I heard, he had reported for his first posting as a Sub-Inspector of Police.

Shivaraj: My Aries Friend

He was my friend’s boyfriend’s friend. We met in Bangalore in April. I was in 2nd year degree. He was in sales with Johnson & Johnson. I met his wife & daughter years later in their home in Shimoga.

There are relationships that don’t lend themselves to any labels or names. I consider him my soul mate. He could decode my slightest gesture, a twitch, a movement of the eye. We’d instinctively understand one another. I am happy to have known him. We lost contact over the years.

Sathya: My Scorpio Husband

A separate blog post for him.

Shaadi ke 5 saal baad bhi thoda chaplusi karna padtha hai. Kya Karen? :))