It is said that inspiration is a great thing. It makes people endure pain, leap over obstacles and do incredible stuff like climb the Everest, swim across the English Channel or sit through Mausam. ( I did that last weekend, and it has left me traumatized. My doctor says I will never be able to enter a multiplex with confidence again. )
And today, a good 366 days since the last post on this blog, I have found my inspiration to come back here. Yes, the only comments I now find here are gentlemen peddling 'Shakti & Saphoorti' imparting capsules, interspersed by one from a 'prisoner of the Russian mafia' who wants my help. ( Mere Russian Dost, delhi police ki site blocked thee kya ?).
But then, the inspiration to write is noble and compelling. For I realised that it is my duty to share with the mankind, guidelines which can help them when they are faced with the biggest challenge of their lives - Being Husbands. Yes, if you thought passing those college exams was difficult, being a husband is like passing them a day after the Dean has found your colourful sms on his daughter's cellphone. Of course, the arsenal needed to surpass this challenge is varied, but here goes some I have learnt over the last one year of marital tactics. In case any of them do backfire and lead to your separation from wives or girlfriends, write me a mail. So that I know it's time to shift to another country before you track down my IP.
Guideline 1: Don't Ignore the Bathroom Ki Tubelight
When I was unmarried, it would have taken me a death threat from Lahore to change a tubelight that's not working. I distinctly remember that during my entire year in Chandigarh, I stayed in a house that had no lights in the bathroom. So when last month, my wife informed me that the tubelight in the bathroom had died a quick death, I smirked and said 'Chill maar yaar, andhere mein padosi par thode hee paani dal jayega.' And then I turned up the TV volume. Double Fault.
Dismissing the Tubelight crisis. And turning up the volume. Never do either of them when you are married. Wives have this unrelenting ability to get you to fix the most useless of things, things any unmarried guy would barter for a DVD. Washing Machines. Power Plugs. A mixer grinder that won't smash up 'dhaniya'. So when your lady approaches you with a task of this nature, never smirk. Just switch off the TV, put on the most grim expression in your kitty and change that damn tubelight.
Guideline 2: Know her Kaamwali's Schedule
I had booked the 11 am show on a Sunday. The reviews had been great, it was all about guns and explosions, I had picked up the car keys and excitedly yelled "Oye chal yaar, late ho jayenge !". And in that moment of anticipated happiness, floated back her voice from the other room 'Abhi ruko ! Sabina jhaadoo karegi abhi.' Unable to believe that she considered a clean floor more important than a couple of hours with hollywood, I tried winning this and shouted back 'Jhaadoo kal lag jayegi yaar! Roz to lagtee hain.'
No reply from the other room, as my wife chose to refrain from countering such imbecile and 'unhygeinic' remarks. Just the heart breaking sound of a broom sweeping the floor. By the time we reached, the villain was already half dead. So the learning is - Accept that to a wife, the complete and satisfactory discharge of the duties of her kaamwali are paramount. She will make you miss movies, hop across the floor, and even order you out on the balcony, all with the single minded objective of 'Sabina maarofying acchi jhaadoo.'
So after your marriage, plan your life and activities around the schedules of her kaamwali. Don't be me. Don't miss that awesome movie.
Guideline 3: Just go where she says the better Tamatars are
The entire wives clan loves to shop in crowded places. They have this logic strangulating hypothesis that if there are so many women fishing around in that stack of tomatoes, those tomatoes would the best. So even though there is a perfectly cheerful gentleman selling a diverse selection of vegetables right on the street next to our home, Missus makes me drive to mall every weekend where she spends hours smelling cabbages and poking through potatoes, while I push the cart zombie like, planning to stab myself with a banana. And the literal cherry on the top of this veggie pile is when at on our way back, she smiles arrogantly and says 'Dekha ! Iss store mein tamatar kitne acche milte hain, aur saste bhee - I just saved almost 45 bucks on them.' I nod, feign admiration and say 'Wah. Kya badiya tamatar khareede hain.' And think to myself 'Car Parking ke charges hee 60 rupye the.'
There are so many more. And I am quite on a self ignited drive of 'husband anshan' right now. So I must save these pearls of wisdom for some other evening, and stop now. And before you transform into a little Anna Hazare yourself and say 'Bechara Abla Aadmi", save yourself the bother. Yeh sab to main aise hee timepass ke liye likh raha tha. I am drenched in marital bliss, and my wife doesn't have a problem with dead tubelights, cares a hoot about the kaamwali's work, and buys her veggies from that seller next to my house. It's all good. ( She may find out about this blog. And one should never criticize the wife's habits when there is a possibility of her finding out. That's the last guideline for today.)
