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The first year of marriage is undoubtedly the most important period for a couple. Be it an arrange marriage or love marriage, the challenges are basically the same.
The first year of marriage is undoubtedly the most important period for a couple. Be it an arranged or love marriage, the challenges are basically the same.
No matter how much the couple interacts before the marriage, the real deal starts when they start living together. None of us were aware of everyday troubles that married people will have.
Just a few days ago, I had the whole bed to myself. Now I try to stretch a leg and a hair muscular limb restricts my movement. Instead of picking the newspaper, I had to pick up a tea kettle early in the morning although I don’t drink tea.
The most dreaded moment was to enter the bathroom after my hubby left for the office. The whole place used to be a mess. Shampoo, conditioner, body wash bottles used to be scattered on the floor, at times liquid oozing out of all three of them. The toothpaste tube never had a cap on it. The mirror used to be covered with mist and splashes of his shaving cream. I used to tread around with such care as if a landmine would blow right on my face if I made one wrong move. My ordeal didn’t end here. The real challenge was to get rid of the wet mess of cloth he ‘Jockey-ingly’ left behind.
We moved into the same house he earlier used to share with his friends. His friends would casually drop by to check on their freshly ‘taken’ bhai. At times, hubby would invite them for a cup of tea which would extend to dinner, after dinner snacks and coffee.
I would yawn by covering my mouth with cushion or hand, not to offend Mr. GN or his buddies who would continuously crack some really silly jokes about office, cricket or ex-room mate. Most of the time they remained oblivious to the fact that I was even present there. After many such yawn-inducing encounters, I used to politely excuse myself and retire to the bedroom. Their laughter wouldn’t let me sleep rather it made me miss my BFFs even more.
When I wanted to talk, he would surf the TV channels and nod occasionally to show that he was listening. I knew he wasn’t. If he was, would he nod when I said “Hey I am going to take all the jewelry and run away with the dudhwala bhaiya tomorrow! (Yes, really, I did say this, and yes, he did nod!)
Many times we were on the verge of starting the third world war. Reason? 1. I washed his shirt that he wore only once. Really! After how many wears does a shirt qualifies for a wash? 2. When I lovingly applied ghee on his chapati when he was on a diet. (Occasional vada pav or biryani with colleagues wasn’t a problem!) 3. Changed his mother’s recipe of ‘Kadi Chawal’. (It tasted good by the way.)
I shall admit that sometimes I secretly wanted to mix horse laxatives in his masala chai whenever he ransacked my wardrobe just to find the other pair of socks. I could also sense that he wanted to smother me with my favorite pillow ( pink with white daisy flowers) whenever I used his badminton racket to kill the creepy looking moth hovering over my head.
Five months passed and still there was no apparent solution to problems. I decided enough is enough. Something needed to be done right away. So what did I do to survive the first year of marriage?
From food to fun, dressing up to letting hair down, masala tea to rich foamy cappuccino, our interests were as similar as chalk and cheese. If I were a word, he would definitely be my antonym. Nothing ever matched. The only thing we had in common was our surnames.
But as the time passed, we began to acknowledge each other’s presence & importance. Things are better than they were earlier. To quote Mr. GN, now tension is far less between Indo-Pak!
Published previously here.
Image source: close-up of couple holding hands by Shutterstock.
Garima nag runs a successful Travel & Lifestyle blog, Sweetsharing.com. Her work is seen regularly on many national & international media platforms. She is an independent thinker, dotting mother, passionate Traveler with a coffee travel book read more...
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Uorfi Javed has been making waves through social media, and is often the target of trolls. So who and what exactly is this intriguing young woman?
Uorfi Javed (no relation to Javed Akhtar) is a name that crops up in my news feeds every now and again. It is usually because she got trolled for being in some or other ‘daring’ outfit and then posting those images on social media. If I were asked, I would not be able to name a single other reason why she is famous. I am told that she is an actor but I would have no frankly no clue about her body of work (pun wholly unintended).
So is Urfi Javed (or Uorfi Javed as she prefers) famous only for being famous? How does she impact the cause of feminism by permitting herself to be objectified, trolled, reviled?
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