One of his kind

It's a special occasion...the air's scented with the sweet smell of love; I am in my best of moods and the object of my affection stands tantalizingly silhouetted against the full moon. There couldn't have been a better ambiance to induce tender loving words. In keeping with the magic of the moment, I lean across and whisper some sweet nothings into his ear. He begs to be pardoned and says, "Why are you whispering?" At moments like this, I am convinced that my husband either suffers from selective blindness (and hearing), or he could be a masochist or could it be that he really doesn't even realize when he blows it all? I feel a bit of a fraud to be picking on him, when I always thought I am crazy about him being in my life, yet deep down inside, I know, he is kinda sweet and charming in his own innocent way. He is helpful and helpless, smart and dumb, not necessarily according to the situation. But still, I can't pretend that he is perfect. He has a few intolerable virtues. For clarification, I have listed a few...

He believes in sharing. The marriage vows seem to have made a profound impact on him as he is suddenly faced with the harsh realities of another being occupying his space, house, bed and everything else. But the context of sharing and its meaning can be very conveniently changed depending entirely on the intricacies of job in hand. He will never meddle in what he considers my domain. He will keep waiting at the dining table for lunch/dinner (as I juggle with the almost-done crispy fried prawns from the stove to the table, bringing together the cutlery and the remaining dishes of the meal and my mobile rings right at that moment) and he might just announce in a humble yet piteous tone, "Honey, where's my glass of water?" My point is not that he has lived in the house much before we have been married without even discovering where the kitchen sink is, but that he thinks I have the stamina and ability to handle all of those mundane things at that same instant because that's my domain.

He has a very good memory. He is brilliant at remembering facts and figures: When was Hailey's Comet last sighted? Where was India's first computer installed? Which is Indian Army's oldest battalion? Which is the 33rd Article of the Constitution? It is obviously unreasonable to expect one so weighed down with relevant data to remember simple facts like our 6 month anniversary, or did we buy a wine-opener for our house the last time we went shopping for household stuff or we have to pay the cable-guy. These things I will have to go through remembering for life.

He tries to improve my memory. Operating on the suspicion that I actually have a good memory but pretend to have a poor one situationally, he'd ask me about things that I have never even seen or heard of before. Things/documents that he'd keep himself, but insist that I kept them safely somewhere, when they are misplaced.

He allows me to make very important decisions...because he has so much respect for my superior wisdom, nice taste and great decision-making skills, he is constantly asking me questions like "Do we need to refill our wine stock?" or "what's for dinner tonight?" or "what car should we buy?"

Advocate of togetherness. He has finally agreed to accept a few things like "our quarter" or "our lawn". But under certain circumstances, the items that were "our" joint concern, suddenly becomes "Your plants aren't looking too healthy" or on another occasion "Your curtains need a wash" or even "My cupboard and my dressing table has no space for my stuff anymore".

He will give me an honest opinion when I don't need it at all. On one occasion when I had just put on a newly purchased 'Patiala Salwar' (those harem-pants variety), he said, "Darling, what's with the joker pants? Please change into something decent." And I never got to wear my sexy 'gladiator flats' to any of the army parties because my husband thought they don't look feminine.

He tries his best to make the marriage work. At least by not even being remotely bothered or concerned about petty things that bother me so much. He is lost in his own world of work, television and sleep.

These things often remind me that I'm not perfect either and there might be so many things about me which he hates, but never complains. I ask myself...Do married people fight? Of course they do. Does this mean they are not in love? Of course it doesn't. The more you love somebody, the madder you can get with him, especially when he has mastered the diabolical art of how to emotionally harass the spouse by not retaliating, not fighting back, not even getting upset with any amount of nagging and yet stay 'happily' married with a cool and content temperament all throughout. And then when I completely lose it and burst into tears, irritable and helpless at his indifferent attitude, with a faraway philosophical gaze he announces, "Silly girl! Come here, come to me.." and hugs me tight wrapping me around with his arms on his chest, and says, "Baby, you have no idea how much I love you. I'm all yours. Now tell me what's bothering you?" That takes away all the complaints from my life. And I think to myself, "He is the one I want to be forever with". Sigh!