Tales from a Marriage

Priorities or Lack Thereof

One night last week, Nike and I had a long discussion about finances. Rather, I launched into a long monologue about finances while Nike pretended to listen. We expect some big changes in our life in the second half of the year - a possible shift of jobs and cities – and I am worried that we will be in a tight spot financially for the next one year after that. Which led to the monologue where I spoke about how I was worried about finances and how we need to manage finances better; at the end of it all Nike said I worry unnecessarily and promptly went off to sleep!

The next day, he noticed a single strand of grey hair. And fell headlong into depression. I told him a single strand did not a whole head of hair make. I told him that he would look very sexy with grey hair - an Indian George Clooney, if you will (I don't actually think he will look anything like that but you're allowed to lie in extenuating circumstances). That day, he poured half a bottle of oil on his hair and then made his mother put some sort of hair pack on his head. When I came back home from work that evening, he had a long talk with me about how worried he was about his grey hair, and what steps he would take to prevent more grey hairs! 

If ever there was a case of messed up priorities, it is this!

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Of Course, it’s a Competition!

Last week, Nike made banana walnut muffins. I was not happy about this at all. I made a banana cake just a few weeks ago and was still basking in the glory of all the praise I received for that. Now Nike was making banana walnut muffins. And since he is a much better cook, I was sure his muffins would taste better than my cake. I couldn’t let this happen. So I bombarded him with recipes for vanilla muffins, apple cinnamon muffins, red velvet cupcakes and anything else that did not have banana in it. But he was adamant that it would be banana walnut muffins only and rejected all the other recipes I sent him.

I then tried to sabotage the muffins by hovering around him while he was baking and giving him all sorts of incorrect advice. However, he banished me from the kitchen so I went and sulked instead. He called me to come and taste once the muffins were done, and I was forced to admit that they tasted better than my cake. Even though the walnuts were burnt. But, but, but, but, but…..my banana cake looked WAY better than his muffins. So we’re even now, no?

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Great Expectations

My birthday is this Sunday. I am so excited and hyper about it that one would be forgiven for thinking I’m going to be eight, instead of twenty-eight (As an aside, I am rather anal about spelling out numbers, instead of simply writing them down in number format. They look so much more beautiful when spelt out fully. Twenty-eight. 28. You tell me, which looks better? End of aside.) And so for my birthday, I thought long and hard and discussed with friends and colleagues and finally decided I would ask Nike for a diamond pendant for my birthday gift.

Instead, Nike gave me vouchers worth Rs.7000 at Landmark. This is much worse than it sounds because (a) These were vouchers left over from the gift he bought me for our anniversary, not vouchers he specifically purchased for my birthday (b)We (though Nike says I) managed to lose half the vouchers so in reality, I have vouchers worth only Rs.3500 (c) Despite my insistence on going and shopping alone for books, Nike accompanied me and then ruined the entire experience by being in a bad mood, snapping at me, and hurrying me through the shopping so that I ended up buying books that I am not sure I want.

Consequently, I feel cheated and gift-less. I am telling Nike that he needs to buy me another gift. Something that I can show off on Facebook, on my blog, and to my family and friends is thoughtful and considerate.

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And so the countdown starts to Sunday. Happy weekend, you guys!

Birthday Blues

Friday, 10^th June 2011 was a momentous day – Nike turned 30! And the day was an unmitigated disaster. Of course, being the 30^th birthday, the day was at a disadvantage to start with. Now I believe there are two ways of celebrating milestone birthdays – one is to go wild and crazy and make it a birthday to remember; the second way is the other extreme, where you lie low, hope no one notices its your birthday, wait for the day to get over and for life to return to normal.

Nike started out deciding that he would enter the 30’s with a big bang. In an ideal world, he would have wanted to ring in the 30’s at Vegas with his friends. But its not an ideal world, so he settled for a road trip across Lebanon with his friends instead. Of course, as I am only human, I was jealous, and tried to encourage them to do said road trip across Germany or some such less exotic destination, but my ploys were in vain. But then all the upheavals in the Middle East began, warnings were issued, and the Lebanon road trip was cancelled (Let it be said on record that I did NOT rejoice; I felt really bad for Nike, and even felt as guilty as hell).

Then Nike made plans to go visit the UK with a cousin, spend some time with his brother-in-law there, and drive around the countryside. Unfortunately, that didn’t work out either. Undeterred, Nike decided on a road trip to Ladakh with his friends. By this time, I was skeptical of any of these plans working out, so I didn’t die of envy at the thought of Nike going off on a bike to Ladakh while I slaved away at office in the Hyderabad summer.

Ladakh is the sorriest story of all. Nike put in a lot of effort into coordinating among different groups of friends, and a group of friends finalized the Ladakh trip for June. Then, one of Nike’s best friends, A, said he couldn’t make it in June, so could they go in May instead. I warned that May was a dicey time to do a road trip to Ladkah on account of the road conditions, but they decided to go ahead in May anyway. Leaves were taken, tickets and accommodation were booked. After Nike reached Delhi (and was to set out to Kalka early the next morning), he found out that the road to Ladakh was blocked due to an avalanche.

His friends decided to go to Dharamsala instead, but Nike headed back home, deciding to save those leaves and use them in June to go to Ladakh. Unfortunately, due to various circumstances, none of Nike’s friends could do the Ladakh trip in June. The poor guy was so keen on it that at one point, he was considering doing the road trip solo, but thankfully decided against it!

By this time, I was being eaten away with guilt – I was envious of his trips and that’s why he couldn’t go, so its somehow all indirectly my fault, get it?. So I suggested making it a weekend getaway – but for Nike, it was Ladakh or nothing at all (and I couldn’t take so many days of two months into joining a new job). I even suggested a day at a resort in the city outskirts, but both of us aren’t really into that sort of a thing, and of course he wasn’t enthusiastic about it. And so it was that the birthday was going to be in Hyderabad.

The next tricky part was the gift. He wanted a camera bag! I couldn’t think of a more boring and forgettable gift. So I suggested I would enroll him for a two day paragliding course instead – he wasn’t enthusiastic about it. I then suggested buying him a guitar and enrolling him for guitar classes - he wasn’t enthusiastic about it either.

Two days to go for the birthday and no gift yet – I was beginning to despair. I then hit upon the idea of making a scrapbook. I spent the day reading up how to make a scrapbook, and then left work early that day, and headed out to buy scrapbook supplies. I spent the next day and two nights slaving over the scrapbook, but I had grossly underestimated the amount of work required for it, and so it wasn’t complete on time.

I had decided that we would have dinner at the Faluknama Palace on his birthday. The views, the setting, the service, the food – if reviews are to be believed, all of it is completely unforgettable. So I called many days before the 10^th to book a table for two, only to be told that the entire palace had been booked out for a wedding! Damn it! Why couldn’t people get married at some other time? Why do they have to do it bang in the middle of the husbands 30^th birthday?

The next plan was to send him 30 roses. However, on the night before the birthday, when a discussion came up about flowers, he said he didn’t like being given flowers at all. He said it was silly, and it was a waste of money. Now, I knew he didn’t care for flowers, but I had foolishly assumed that if it was for his birthday, he might actually like the gesture. But he was rather vehement in his dislike of receiving flowers and his opinion on their wastefulness (despite my protests “But you can put them on your desk!”) and so I hurriedly cancelled the flowers.

Anyway, in the midst of all this chaos and confusion, his birthday arrived. The mother-in-law baked a delicious cake for him, which he cut at midnight – apparently it’s a birthday tradition from his childhood and it made him very happy. The next morning, I wanted to serve him breakfast in bed, but since my culinary skills are very limited, I asked him if he’d enjoy being served bread-omlette with juice and the newspaper in bed. He said he would rather eat dosas at the dining table, and that was the end of my breakfast in bed plans – anyway, we woke up very late that day, so if I had made the breakfast, it would have ended up being brunch.

After breakfast, I shut myself up in the guest bedroom to continue working on the scrapbook, but Nike knocked repeatedly till I had to let him in and he ended up seeing the scrapbook without my completing it! He said it was a ‘lovely gesture’; and instead of being content with that, when I pressed him for more he added “Its rather like a child’s craft project, isn’t it” and then “You aren’t very artistic are you” and even “What is this thing on this page? Haha…that’s funny!”.

We then got ready to go out for lunch, only to find out that his parents had taken one car for the doctors appointment and the other car had been sent off for repair. We waited for well over an hour before one of the cars came back, and by the time we set out for lunch, it was well past 2pm, and we were both VERY hungry.

As luck would have it, we were stuck in a horrendous traffic jam, and reached the restaurant at 3.30pm. Luckily, the place was still open – possibly our only piece of luck on that day. Our drinks arrived and tasted awful – turns out, the bartended wasn’t around! Thankfully, the food was good, and we enjoyed lunch.

After lunch, went to pick up the next surprise for Nike – a camera cake! Getting the camera cake had been a major hassle – I had googled for and printed pictures of camera cakes, and then gone to three bakeries around town (and sent friends to another two) before I found someone willing to make the camera cake. So when we went to pick up the cake I was very nervous and excited. Thankfully, the cake turned out beautifully and even Nike was very pleased with it. Though he did comment that it was unhealthy and we shouldnt eat too much of it!

As we set out home after picking up the cake, we kind of got lost, and accidentally ended up in a one way. And promptly got stopped by the traffic police and received a fine. I wanted to tell the policeman “But its his birthday today!” (In case you were wondering, I didn’t). We finally reached home, Nike’s cousins joined us there, he cut the camera cake (which received much admiration from everyone), he showed everybody the scrapbook (which again received much admiration inspite of its incomplete status and gratified me sufficiently), we played Taboo (which Nike and his team won for the first time in the 18 months we have been playing against each other), we ordered in biryani for dinner, we played dumb charades in the lawn, and then everyone left, and Nike and I went for a drive.

After we came back home, I sent him a mail titled ’30 Reasons Why I Love You’. I assumed he would be touched and emotional. Maybe he’s respond with 27 reasons why he loved me. He read it and said “That’s very sweet of you. Now lets go to sleep”.

And thus ended the day. Next year, I’m just going to stick to a simple cake, and biryani for dinner. And the darned camera bag for a birthday gift!

P.S: Oh, and we finally decided that I would gift him a tattoo. It has him very excited!

P.P.S: He did mention that despite all the things that didn’t happen/went wrong for his birthday, he had enjoyed himself and had a good day. And that’s my reason #1 – it doesn’t take much to keep him happy. I should learn from him. Oh, and also, I told him I want to go to Paris for the my 30^th – it’s a good 3 years away, but a little advance planning never hurt.

Turning 27

One week ago I turned 27, and turning 27 isn't always a bad thing, I've come to realise. Now anyone who knows me well, and even those who don't, know that my birthday is a BIG DEAL for me. I start planning for my birthday from Jan 2nd itself, and all this hyper-ness leads to major expectations building up for the day, and major disappointment when such unreasonable expectations don't get fulfilled. It's a vicious cycle. Yet, despite the sky high expectations I have, my family and friends have time and again managed to exceed even those expectations, and for that, I am truly blessed. (Alas, the same cannot be said of Nike, but that's grist for another post)."?.p

This year I wanted to be home, in Vizag, for my birthday. The last time I was home on my birthday was exactly 10 years ago, so being home was a special way of celebrating my birthday. Somehow, I managed to have no expectations at all this year, made no plans, and as a consequence, I was rewarded with a very pleasant day that brought me much joy and love.

My parents and Samee were of course home. Nike came down to Vizag a week earlier, and Mahi (more my own brother than a first cousin) too joined us on the 25th. They blew balloons and put up streamers and invited a few friends over at midnight; I cut a yummy chocolate cake, which was ordered from Food-ex for old times sake.

My parents gifted me a lovely watch which I'd been craving for the last few months - its a white strap with a purple dial studded with white stones, and it's from Fossil, and I couldn't find it in any of the stores in India, Philippines, Thailand, Malaysia, Singapore or Vietnam. (Okay, I couldn't find it in any of the stores I looked in; and yes, this is a digression to just show off about my recent holiday). So Amma actually ordered it from the US on Amazon, and my Mama got it along with him to India. Samee bought me a board game, and we've been playing that every night at home since. A dear friend sent me a bouquet with 27 roses. How sweet was that!

I spent the morning taking calls. All my family and friends called to wish, and their wishes left me feeling super kicked and happy all day. (And Sakku, if you're reading this, I did note that you did not call). Nike offered to cook my favourite chicken curry for lunch. Alas, it was a Saturday so despite roaming around for an hour, he couldn't find any open chicken shops so that plan had to be discarded. After lunch, Nike took me along to buy me my surprise gift - an iPad! Yes, I got an iPad for my birthday, and I'm super duper thrilled with it, and cant stop shouting about it from the rooftops. In fact, I'm typing this post from my iPad. I'm absolutely loving the iPad, and wondering how I've lived without it for so long. Oh, and Mahi is buying me the iPad case as a gift.

After we picked up the iPad, Nike dropped me off at my favourite spa for a pedicure. Later, Samee, Mahi, Nike and I went to the beach at Bheemli, where a few friends joined us. After a nice time at the beach, we headed home, changed, and then left for dinner with the parents. At the restaurant, I was given another surprise as more family friends joined us for dinner. Thus ended what was a very pleasant birthday.

And that, my dear readers, is how I turned 27!

P.S: Unfortunately, there are no pics of the day because Nike doesn't like taking out the SLR for 'casual' occasions, and I don't have a point-and-shoot. It's time I got myself one, or I'll forever remain without pictures of small but memorable occasions, thanks to that useless man's photography hangups!

P.P.S: I'm typing this on a train from Delhi to Jsisalmer; the start of a 9 day holiday in Rajasthan. Nike doesn't know it yet, but this is also his birthday gift to me - I'm simply going to refuse to pay for the trip expenses.

The Giant Leap Into the Late Twenties

My birthday for me is the single most important day of the year, and I start planning for it from January 2^nd every year. You would think that as I got older, this whole birthday fancy would reduce and I would start treating my birthday like any normal adult person treats theirs. Far from that happening, it became the other way round, with the birthday gaining more importance with each passing year. So much so that last year, because I was turning 25, and my birthday was almost in the middle of the week, I decided to celebrate it for a whole week – which meant dinners/ lunches/ coffee dates with friends, movies, plays, shopping; something or the other for every day of the week.

However, this year, the birthday excitement was thankfully a lot more toned down (by my standards, not by normal adult person standards, of course). Maybe it was the overdose of birthday celebrations last year. Maybe it was that turning 26, which symbolises Entering the Late Twenties, seems to cry out for a sober celebration, if at all a celebration is even called for.

Which is all to say that toned down celebrations were planned for the day: the morning at a spa, lunch with Nike, a house party for 25 people in the night. The next day, we were going to drive off to spend the weekend in a nice resort out of town, so as to extend the celebrations into the weekend. Yeah, not such toned down celebrations after all; for all my lamentations on the awfulness of turning 26, I just couldn’t pass up a day which was all about me, me, me!

Of course, nothing went as planned. At midnight, despite my protestations that I didn’t expect a cake, and didn’t even want one, I realised I did indeed want one, and got rather upset when there really was no cake. So Nike took me to this rather lovely 24 hour poolside coffee shop, where I cut a sinful chocolate pastry in lieu of a cake, drank a chocolate milkshake, and generally overdosed on chocolate.

Since my friends seemed to have taken it into their heads to wish me at midnight as per their respective time zones, I ended up sleeping only early in the morning. Which meant that I was over an hour late for my spa appointment. I spent over two hours getting pampered at the spa, and generally feeling good about myself – not that it requires a spa to do that!

All this time, I had left my phone in the locker, and got to retrieve it only after the 2 hours in the spa, when I sat down for a haircut. I saw a gazillion missed calls from Nike and worriedly called him back – the brilliant man had locked himself out of the house, and after trying to reach me for the last two hours, had given up and gone to sleep in the car. Of course, this meant that I had to short cut my hair cut (tee hee!) and rush to the man’s rescue – more appropriately, he rushed to his own rescue as he drove up to the spa to pick me up.

I told myself, not very convincingly, that rescuing the man was more important than fulfilling my dreams of sashaying in beautifully blow-dried hair at the party, and decided to focus on lunch. At which point Nike suggested that we go to Nandhinis. Yes, the Andhra meals place. For my birthday. Yes, you read that right. I said ‘okay’ in a brave but shaky voice. Let it not be said that Nike has not learnt his lessons in all these years – we ended up going to a nice, cosy little restaurant called Woodstock instead. * Evil grin *

When we got home, our watchman informed us that the cook had waited for us for over half an hour and had just left. This was a crisis! What would happen to food at the party? Some people might dismiss food as not important at a party, but it just wasn’t done to expect them all to survive on a liquid diet that night, however great that might be. So we gave chase to the cook, found her at the bus stop and brought her back home.

The rest of the evening went swimmingly well. The cook did an excellent job. Everyone turned up. I looked great in my wine-coloured dress (Yes, I do say so myself). We ate, drank, made merry, and played Taboo till Nike went into his obsessive, trance like Taboo state. He was forcibly dragged to the table to attend to the cutting of the cake. And then the straps of my lovely dress snapped. Poof! Like that! Thankfully, I was far too ‘happy’ to let it bother me; also, I always buy atleast two pairs of new clothes for my birthday. Wearing normal non-new clothes was, of course, out of the question.

We played charades for a while, and then started dancing. Actually, it would be more appropriate to say that the girls danced, while the guys sat around and watched. Now that had an almost dance-bar-ish feel. We danced till about 4 in the morning, and then played another round of Taboo, where everyone fell over everyone else in an attempt to grab the cards lying all over the floor, and Nike indiscriminately abused everyone. The party ended at 5am.

Of course we didn’t go anywhere the next day. Nike kept throwing up all day long. And I was exhausted. But it was a good party. And it was a great day. So, that, dear readers, was to tell you that turning 26 isn’t always a bad thing!  

P.S: We did make that weekend trip the next weekend though. And it was awesome!