Sunday 10 February 2013

The Husband Chronicles - Part 19






Men fantasize about having/making more money, about the latest gadgets, cars, perhaps holidays, fitness regimes and yes, about other women.

I'm married to a man whose fantasies revolve around FOOD! 

The only time The Husbands face lights up, his eyes sparkle and he's rubbing his hands in anticipatory glee is when he's thinking of/looking forward to/devouring a well-cooked meal. 

Discussions about the next meal start even as we are having our present one. During mealtimes, the addition of ingredients are questioned, dissected, unasked for advice is given to me. The feedback is plenty, if the meal isn't upto his  mark, and sparse, if it is :)

Little wonder that the only line, from my favourite song 'Favicol' I'm stuck on is 'Main toh Tandoori Murgi hoon yaar, gatakale Saiyaan alcohol se!'




Thursday 20 December 2012

Sisters





As women we grew up hearing, ‘There is safety in numbers’.
We started believing it when we were whistled at, or followed, or deliberately brushed against, or had filmy songs sung loudly for us as we walked on the streets alone.
We protested, we raged, we swore to change things when one of our ilk was molested or abused. But we were told to shut up and live with it. By our mothers, sisters, aunts, friends and other women.
And we did.
We cringed inside, carried compasses or safety pins on public transport, discussed it, were angered by it, and learnt to live with it.
Incidents of rapes angered us, drove us to protests, inspired candle-lit silent marches, and a primetime slot in news channels for a day or three, and soon became a memory.
We blamed the Government, the Male species, the lack of empathy, and raged and ranted. And then we were silent.
The degradation of a woman’s honor continued, as did our rants.
When will we realize that no one will do a thing. Not the government, nor the media, nor the protestors.
No one, except us.
As a woman, it’s time to stop looking outside for help.  It’s time to start reaching out with a helping hand instead. When you see a deliberate brushing past, a grope, a leer, which brings fear into a Sisters eye, stand beside her and watch that fear become a fearsome look. Any action or word that violates a woman’s safety and honor, come together as one and  help bring about a change. Be a silent supporter, and a violent one if need be.
Believe, reassure and be there for a Sister who has been through it. Teach your Daughters to be brave, to take care of themselves, to hold their head high, and lash out fearlessly. Be there for your Sisters so no one can get away with scarring her with a horrible memory.
Not because we are weak, but because we must.
After all didn’t we all grow up hearing, ‘There is safety in numbers'


Saturday 18 August 2012

Movie Review - Ek Tha Tiger


Ek Tha Tiger - - - Jo nikla Billi!
Star Rating   *
Salman Khan (Tiger), looking stressed, depressed but still well dressed, beats up and breaks more than his usual share of bones and furniture, but takes off his shirt just once.
Katrina Kaif(Zoya), botox-ed to stretched perfection and collagen-ed to acquire lips as full as Mick Jagger’s, breezes through the script togged out stylishly and emotes effortlessly, and she isn’t around when he takes his shirt off, just once.
Audience, goes with great expectations, drags reluctant Husband promising him a blockbuster film and performances, waits for both, and for Tiger to bare it all.
Movie starts, audience travels through picturesque, well shot locales of Iran, Delhi, Istanbul and Havana, and realizes that Tiger still hasn’t taken off his shirt, in a single country.
As a RAW officer, Tiger effortlessly climbs buildings, swings for one to the other, stops trams, dances, sings, falls in love, but STILL doesn’t remove his shirt.
Zoya, our friendly neighborhood ISI officer accompanies him in most of his escapades, calling him a ‘Kaddu’, perhaps because he hasn’t removed his shirt.
Love happens, followed by heartbreak, when they realize their respective professions *psssssstttttt, shirt still on! *stamping feet on ground!*
Enter hirsute, fellow RAW officer, Gopi (Ranvir Sheory) who chides Tiger, then helps him plan an escape with ‘Bhabhiji’ *Finally removes shirt in a blink and you miss it moment. Audience blinked*
Tiger realizes that he hasn’t ever climbed into an ascending aircraft from a speeding motorcycle and does just that and Zoya and Tiger escape into oblivion, leaving the chance of a sequel to be filmed.
Audience hides face at choice of films, directs a sideways glance at Husband who sarcastically calls film a blockbuster and laments the fact that Tiger removed his shirt, just bleddy once! 
Star

Star Rating Chart.

* I want my money back + a fully booked and paid 3 month trip to _________(please fill in a destination of choice)

** I don’t want my money back even though I didn’t like the movie, but director/producer may please pay for my popcorn/samosa/parking.

*** Time and money both well spent!

**** Loved it!

***** Whistle, clap, even smile at irritating neighbor-who-kept-talking-on-cell phone, queue up to buy tickets again, and extol virtues of the movie.
y booked and paid 3 month trip to _________(please fill in a destination of choice)e, but director/producer may please pay for my popcorn/samosa/parking.

*** Time and money both well spent!

**** Loved it! irritating neighbor-who-kept-talking-on-cell phone, queue up to buy tickets again and extol

Wednesday 9 May 2012

The Husband Chronicles - Part 18


The Husband claims to have embarked on a healthier lifestyle recently. *rolls eyes*

He’s given up on milk, and all milk products, meat, chicken and eggs, until and unless they are country-bred and free range, says he’s weaning himself off coffee, tea and other beverages *eyes rolling away madly * and the list continues to grow every day. *eyes rolling away at a furious pace*

The only delicacy he appears to enjoy feasting on seems to be my brain, which is a fast dwindling reserve thanks to wracking it to think of meals to conjure up with a the pitiful list of foods allowed. *madly rolling eyes fall off face*
Sigh!

Wednesday 14 March 2012

The Husband Chronicles - Part 17

I’ve been house-hunting for almost 4 months now. I’ve been through a little over half a dozen brokers, and seen close to 250 houses, my highest record being 11 houses in a day.  

So, what is stopping us from zeroing in on a house? Am I too finicky? Am I looking for perfection? Do I have unrealistic expectations? No. I just have A Husband who believes in Vastu.
Each time I think ‘This is it!’ The Husband comes along with his %^#$&;*%^^*@ compass and rejects the house, as the #@$#%$ compass informs The Husband that the kitchen isn’t right, or the entrance is wrong, or the bedroom is where the kitchen should be, so on and so forth!

House-hunting is exhausting, and more so when a $#%$^^^$% compass is going to decide where you’ll live. So we went away for a much-needed weekend break to a resort, with me deciding to banish all thoughts of crushing every compass on earth to smithereens.  

I was just inhaling the fresh air, feasting on the beautifully landscaped sight before me and was experiencing the beginnings of delight at the sight of our lovely cottage when The Husband cheerfully informed me ‘Our cottage is vastu perfect. It has a mountain on ___ side, water flowing on ___ side. A rise on ____ side, ............................'
When I could finally shut my mouth, and stopped gritting my teeth till they turned into a fine powder, I just laughed. Helplessly and much like Boman Irani in Munnabhai ;)

Wednesday 28 December 2011

The Husband Chronicles - Part 16

I am blessed to be one of the rare wives whose husbands actually listen to them when they talk, and enthusiastically respond to their conversation too, no matter what the topic may be, I thought! I was so happy about this that I even presented God with, pure ghee, grainy and yummy besan laddoos in gratitude *manners, people, manners!*

:(

Turns out The Husband just pretends to listen attentively, at least most of the times.

I’ve had my doubts in recent times, but rested easy as I happily assumed that God, well-fed on my bribe of laddoos would not allow it to happen. How could I forget, God is a man!

After a few doubts had turned into certainties I decided to put my theory to test.

The Husband and I were having a perfectly boring conversation about maids/plumbers/suchlike to which his responses were unnecessarily enthusiastic. In the middle of the completely anal conversation I let slip in a quick line “soiwillbeelopingwithsalmankhanfornewyears” to which The Husband responded with a wow, a smile faker than Shilpa Shetty’s nose and a thumbs up sign!

So now, I have The Husband’s approval to elope with Salman. And God, I want my laddoos back!

Monday 12 September 2011

The Husband Chronicles - Part 15

When I was single I dreamt and prayed I would marry someone unique. Someone who would have qualities no one else possessed.


Well, God was listening all right! For he sent along The Husband, who certainly has some very unique qualities.

To elaborate, The Husband bites his lip and cheek to suppress his laughter whenever I say or do something funny, which is more than a dozen times a day. Amma has confirmed that this is a childhood trait.
The Husband also stifles a yawn because, according to him, yawning open mouthed looks ungainly. Guinness, you have a potential record holder here!
Romantic verses of my favorite Hindi songs sung aloud by me are responded to with a ‘What does that mean’ because The Husbands knowledge of Hindi/Urdu is as good as mine is of Telugu, which is nil. I am supposed translate and explain in English, if you please! ‘Jidhar dekhoon, teri tasveer nazar aati hai’ translated to ‘Wherever I look I can see your picture’ somehow just doesn’t cut it!

Sigh!

Note to self: When you ask God for something next time, be specific!

Wednesday 17 August 2011

The Husband Chronicles - Part 14

‘Why are you carrying such a big, heavy bag?’ is what The Husband unfailingly asks each time we step out of the house together. In the initial days I mistook it for a query and answered it. Time and experience have bestowed wisdom and these days I just roll my eyes/snort/flash a fake smile, depending on the mood.

So, in case you are curious, about why I carry a ‘big, heavy bag’ and what could the contents be, the bag holds my keys, tissues, a small mirror, lippy and liner, my sunglasses and cell phone AND The Husbands 3 cell phones, wallet, 2 card cases, spare visiting cards, sunglasses, glasses, important papers, keys and car keys.

Very soon I’ll need to start carrying a strolley.

Thursday 23 June 2011

Cooking up a storm!


If I had an idli for each of the times I’ve been told ‘The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.’ I would be able to cover the earth till it resembled one humungous idli, and even then had some left over to munch on as I went about completing the task.

Born into a Punjabi family I was under the impression that mine was a community obsessed with food, till I wed into the Andhra Community and learnt otherwise.

Every time I meet someone new, ‘Bagunaara?’ (How are you?) is more often than not followed by the question ‘You cook?’ When I smile and cheerfully answer, ‘No!’ the expression on the opposite face it a Kodak moment. When Amma is with me, she hastily steps in to add ‘I am teaching her to cook and she is picking up recipes very fast!’ The Kodak expression is replaced by relief for a fleeting moment, before the next question appears ‘So you will cook after you learn?’ to which I still smile and still cheerfully answer ‘No!’

Thing is, I can’t cook, rather, I don’t cook. Oh hell! Why am I sugar-coating words, I D.O.N.T L.I.K.E to cook! A multitude of cooking lessons from Amma and there is still no sign of my inner Nigella Lawson making an appearance anytime I enter the kitchen. I do rustle up a few dishes, because I HAVE to not because I WANT to and no, cooking them doesn’t give me the ‘joy’ or ‘sense of accomplishment’ that many people I know get from preparing a meal.

Now, in my newly-adopted community, if there is anything worse than not cooking, it is not cooking for your husband. And I have committed this blasphemy and continue doing so, save for the times I dish out hot dosas for breakfast, with chutneys made from scratch accompanying them, or make sambhar, which was so delish my Mum couldn’t believe I made it, or put together a creamy payasam on festive occasions that the God’s wish they could lap up or make a Pessarettu Upma with Ginger Chutney which is so wicked, I go into disbelieving shock every time I make it! But everyday cooking is still chore I would rather avoid.

So here I am, newly-inducted into a community which lives, breathes and discusses food, when they are not eating it, patiently waiting for meal invites from all the wonderful women who are kitchen-Goddesses and do a great job of it! More power to you ladies, call me! Soon!

And as for ‘The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach’ lets just say I have found other ways.

Tuesday 17 May 2011

The Husband Chronicles --- Part 13

When I was preparing myself to get married, I mentally psyched myself to face, and deal with, every eventuality that may crop up in our married life.
From something as common as the absence of maids, a situation which had, and still has me, tearing my hair apart… to a likely event as the annual Bombay floods, where , if the scenario arose where we had just one lifejacket  and/or a last biscuit between us I would gladly give it away to The Husband…and even something absurdly farfetched as the tiger in the song ‘Hum tum ek kamre mein band ho’ from the film ‘Bobby’ approaching us would have me willingly give up my life for The Husband.

When I said, E.V.E.R.Y E.V.E.N.T.U.A.L.I.T.Y, I meant it.

Almost 6 months of married life later, it has become glaringly obvious that I didn’t cover every eventuality. As I definitely had no idea I should have prepared myself for dealing with a 6 foot spoilt brat! A brat spolit rotten who sulks (too often and for days on end), throws tantrums (not too often) is more stubborn than 200 mules put together and has to be cajoled and pleaded with to get things done.

Phew!

If only I wasn’t such an advocate of ‘Sparing the rod’ if would be fun to spank him into behaving! ;-D