A Review

Dear Friends,

Recently, I got a very fortunate opportunity to read a book – Spouse – The Truth about Marriage by Shobha De.

What follows is not an analysis but a ‘personalized review’ of this book, because it’s for every one and will be perceived differently by every one. This book is for the married and the single who are ready but not steady enough to mingle. For the happily married and those who are the verge of breaking. For the ones who claim to have known the secrets of happy married life and for those who want to explore this domain.

This book is not at all a ‘goody goody stuff’ about marriage rather, it delineates the real picture. It helps prepare you for every thing that’s going to come your way as its impossible not to fight, yell and feel like hitting a person you love at least once in a span of ten years!! The author states, “There is no such thing as a ‘perfect marriage’ or a ‘perfect spouse’. Come on, get real! Marriage is a flawed institution ….”

Most of us go through a phase of transition in our mid and late twenties; a search for the real reason to get married. More so, those who are convinced that, marriage is a pious institution and very strongly believe in it; as I do, are in a tumult as to will their marriage be a perfect one? Many of us try and sort out our preconceived notions regarding adaptations, adjustments, priorities, perspectives and absence of love after marriage, beforehand. So, is it necessary/mandatory to submerge ones personality in a relationship?
Does marriage demand it? The author finds the answer to be ‘Yes’ and ‘No’. Marriage alters perspectives and priorities- it has to. If you resist and rebel, there’s something not quite ok with the equation to start with. If you surrender and swim with your head above the water, confident that your partner won’t allow you to drown, then the chance of working through your difficulties and doubts are that much higher.

“….Selfish. It’s such an awful word. I tossed it around inside my head. Selfish. Self-focused. Self-centered. Self-obsessed. Self-absorbed. Self. Self. Self. That was it – The elusive word I’d been looking for. It became the key to writing this book. For it is this four letter word – Self – which eventually determines the quality of what I consider the single most difficult, challenging, exhilarating relationship in the world….” Shobhaa has very aptly picked up the real culprit that’s keeping the young running away from marriage and commitment. Yes, that C- word so dreaded by the present generation too counts. The way the marriage cookie crumbles depends entirely on your attitude to that one word. “….Don’t let it scare you. After all without realizing you are already committed to many things….your job, parents, friends. So accept one more Big- C when you accept marriage. Because without it there is nothing but Shoonya.”

This book revolves around the mantra, “Marriage is what you make of it.” As the author puts it, “How marriages work and why they fail is essentially about love or the absence of it…..a marriage works if you want it to. Conversely, a marriage fails much for the same reason. Which person doesn’t despair ten times in two decades? What has kept us going in that case? Is it just the kids? Finance? Convenience? Or something much more vital? I can only speak for myself and can say with my hand on my heart that the reason I remain married to him is very simple – I want to be his wife. I enjoy being married to him, even when he exasperates me and I want to hit him over the head with a hefty object!”

So, who is ready to bank on the fact that their marriage will be a success? I guess none. For we all know that it’s a delicate relationship which requires to be fed and nurtured like a sapling especially in its formative years. The journey doesn’t end there. In words of Shobhaa: “It takes almost ten years for two people to actually get to know one another. To intercept the little tricks, idiosyncrasies, quirks and accept them. Ten more to understand what all it adds up to. Who the real person you are married actually is. And then another ten to finally accept your differences and come to terms with the hiccups that might have bothered you earlier. That’s when you start to appreciate one another. Enjoy sameness and overlook the differences. It’s a pretty long journey – thirty years.”

Am I ready for this long journey….is a question we all must ask ourselves when we embark on the path to matrimony. I personally feel there aren’t many who can wait as long as thirty years to find an answer to this one question…Was our marriage a beautiful one? More now try and adopt a much easier path, a short cut that would save them from the Big- C and say, “Is marriage something worth it?”. But trust me friends living together without the string tied isn’t the same thing after all. It does provide you with an instant escape route but imagine a life without some one to love, bear your tantrums, wipe your tears, support you in darkest of hours. Tell me without it ..... is life worth living?

Pandora’s Train of Troubles

The monsoon had just knocked the doors of Mumbai. With the early monsoon showers bidding me farewell, I reached the Railway station. Finding a red shirt-clad coolie wasn’t difficult. My luggage was safely dispatched to the right platform almost in time. Thinking that the train would arrive any time soon, I found it wise to let the coolie know my seat number. I turned, and was confound to find that the coolie was gone. I could see the train arriving with no one to attend to my luggage. Frantically, I searched for another coolie and found one just in time.

Right when the coolie placed my belongings in place, the first coolie reappeared. The train jerked, ready to move and both of them stood right over my head, demanding double their shares. I was adamant not to succumb to their threatening stares but, my Dutch courage gave way when the train started rolling.

Once, the two of them left the train, I took a sigh of relief. I looked at my berth. It was the lower side berth. I knew it was going to be a hell lot of disturbance and that; the relief was ephemeral because there were 11 little ones in mine and the two adjacent compartments.

Just like mice creep out of their warrens at the set of night, these innocent, cherubic, little ones showed their true colors. As I lay in my berth, I could see the little monsters creating havoc. The cacophony was maddening. I changed my side and now faced the other adjacent compartment. There came a breeze of fresh air. Right in front of me was seated a handsome hunk reading a book on global warming. My heart skipped a beat and I found myself staring at him. “Oh! He is so handsome and seems to have some substance as well”, I said to myself. I realized, I was sweating and could feel the sweat trickle down my forehead. “How can I sweat this great deal in an air conditioned compartment? No man has ever made me sweat like this”, I wondered. Gradually, I felt my shoulders and my back dampen. Certainly, there was something wrong as now even the handsome was giving me an amused look. It didn’t take me another minute to realize that water was pouring from the berth above mine. I started with a shriek and there came a mom yelling at her kid. “What have you done Abhishek? You have spilled the whole bottle of water over her!”

As I heard her shout, another realization dawned on me that, I, as a matter of fact, was engaged to Abhishek. I looked towards the kid then at the handsome and finally towards the skies; not to apologize but to remind the good lords that they ought to mete out a similar punishment to Abhishek if he ogles a sexy lass.

The rampage of the little monsters didn’t abate for a second and some of them swayed right over my head. It was dinner time and I wasn’t hungry. Instead, my head was spinning and I desperately needed some sleep. I knew that the devils won’t rest in peace any time sooner so I decided to sleep amidst the wild!

It must have been an hour that I was asleep when a smell tickled my nose. Half conscious and half asleep, I couldn’t figure out what it was but, a kaleidoscope of pickles, curries and cookies ran before my eyes. I dreamt of cuisines of China and Italy with Indian tadka. It was with pangs of hunger and dried throat that I woke. The coach was silent and dark. It was 1:00 a.m. and all the little monsters were ensconced peacefully in their warrens.

Dead hungry, I searched out for my food parcel; amidst my blanket, under my pillow, in my hand bag, underneath the berth. It was no where. I thought hard to recollect if I had dropped it some where. It was after some rigorous cerebration that I figured out the culprit. It was a rubicund little one. I remembered him eyeing the two large chocolate bars kept in my food parcel. I was sacked of my victuals! And, with every one in deep slumber I had no chance of finding it back.

The train halted. I got down and bought a bottle of water. “It would help smother the gastric fire within”, I thought. Hungry, sleepy and thirsty I boarded back.

Horror struck me as I reached my berth.
“SOME DAMN RASCAL HAD OCCUPIED MY BERTH!”
But there was some thing amiss.
“THERE WERE NO KIDS IN THE COMPARTMENT!”
“Oh, No! In my reverie I boarded a wrong train”, flummoxed and tearful I cried to myself. The train had gained speed by then. For the first time in those hours my ears yearned for that maddening cacophony. I was out of the frying pan but into the fire!

God is merciful and he sent in his angel in form of an attendant. I cried my tear glands out and told him every thing. He, to my disbelief ended up in a fit of laughter!

I was escorted back to my coach. I boarded the wrong coach and not the wrong train. I don’t have words to describe my relief on finding my berth and belongings just the way I left them. Moreover, the sight of those little monsters was never so soothing!

I wasn’t hungry, neither sleepy. For the rest of my journey I sat with eyes-wide open, red and bulging out. I called for my dad in the morning to receive me on the station. This was very unlike me and it surprised him as well. But, my courage had given way long back and I had neither the stamina nor any wits left to confront any more troubles.