Quality waste-of-time!

k and I are a perfect match when it comes to the matter of hanging out with folks (Y'all may notice I don't use the word perfect loosely especially when it comes to marriage stuff. Prefer to let other couples vie for the perfect couple spot; too much pressure to be one! Also, how will r~ learn the tricky art of mule-headed arguments unless we lead by practice? :p) So anyway, k and I are the kind of couple that need about 32 seconds to make up our minds when someone calls us to hang out with them.

Them: "So you wanna' hang out?"
k: (holding receiver and looking at me): "What time can we feed r~ and have her ready?"
Me: "Gimme 10"
k: "We'll be there in 15."

So that's the amount of planning we do when someone calls us. What's the word am looking for? It's not "people's person" -- that's someone people want to spend time with not someone who wants to spend time with people almost always...that's the word that describes us.

I have noticed some folks tend to keep some occasions private: anniversaries, birthdays and so on. They do cool, romantic things, fly to exotic places and come back to share awesome pictures with us. Some couples stay home and take it easy and just celebrate quietly. We, on the other hand, strongly believe in the "the more the merrier" cliche'. if k or I can squeeze in 2 additional people to the party, we would do so even if we had to spend 30 minutes convincing them that our home was a really hep hangout place and we would ensure that they would stay entertained the entire duration of their stay.

So given that, we (I should probably start speaking in the singular; k can say what he thinks in his expired blog if he wants to) or I am constantly surprised when people chose to opt out. No, am not talking about you or you in particular. This is sort of a sum total of my observations based on my 10 year stay in Lex. So anyway, why do people say no when you call them to spend time with you? Let's analyze:

• They are booked for that time.
• They do not belong to the "Oh...we are one big set of friends" camp.
• They would rather go to the dentist (or as P~ would put it, "They don't like you, don't you get it? Duh!")
• They don't like your facebook updates.

So to summarize, those people who opt out of get-togethers baffle me (maybe they really don't like my updates)! Maybe they really have important things to do with their free time than chat with me about my facebook updates. No seriously, I always wonder what the driving factor is to refuse an opportunity to share some face to face personal time in this increasingly virtual world. I guess kids are a good reason to say no. If one is throwing up on your tshirt the moment the invitation comes along, I suppose there is a valid reason to hold your breath and say no and then get your kid to sit down in the bath tub when you give her a bath (Don't get me started on that!). Another good reason is playing hard to get but wait -- we are not in College anymore. Drat! And I thought I was on to a breakthrough there deciphering the forces behind people's choices. I, on the other hand, got myself up the world's fastest, highest, all-est wooden roller coaster and my limbs shook for 30 days after the event, because while I detested and still do detest roller-coasters, I went along for the big gang (Unfortunately, the 2 other girls in the gang wanted to try out all the number 5, hardest rides. Ugh). Basically, I believe in the power of numbers; show me a big gang and I'll tag along for the ride even if it is to, God-forbid, King's Island (k, if you are reading this post, no, it does not mean we can take r~ to Kings Island. No, you may not pay random people to tag along.) And in this respect, k is just the same. When we were students and had a lot more free time, he would constantly look for excuses to call people home: we have thrown graduation parties, got-a-job parties, got-hitched parties, star-at-home parties (When Crazy Mohan and YGM were home), dal-bhati parties, golu get-togethers, New year's parties, birthday parties...you get the idea.

I suspect though that we are entering a time where we are so restless, constantly multi-tasking that the days of leisurely banter and "time pass" are behind us. We catch up online and are so caught up in our lives that we forget to leave some time out for wasting. Oh no, not to say I have mastered the art of zen living but am just throwing this out there and reaching random conclusions (because if you can't reach random conclusions on your blog, where can you?)


You know how in School, there's always this girl pleading with another girl to come...somewhere to do something, "Vaaayen! Nee vaaayen!" I suppose I am that girl now. I often wonder why I prefer to have a gathering whenever possible. Do I like the sound of conversation? Do I like the idea that I have a whole bunch of friends around me and that feels good? Am I bored too hang out with just k and to be fair to k, is he bored to hang out with just me and therefore we feel the need to invite 6 other people to dissipate it? Of course we have r~ now and she keeps us more occupied than 10 people can but even now, I prefer a gang to alone time. As one of my friends put it tongue-in-cheek, "As RS would say -- Let's get together and have some fun!"

Yes, RS would say that. And I guess that's just in my genes. Gotta remember to ask mom and dad if they were like that (Based on what I know, that is true) too.

Although sometimes, I think I go out of my way to spend time with people leading to situations such as:

"Hey, am going to get my eyebrows waxed, do you want to come along and share the joy of beauty?"

"Hey, taking r~ to the doc, wanna call it a play date and also grab a coffee with a screaming kid at Starbucks?"

I have always fantasized about living in the same town with the perfect set of people to hang out with. The kind of people who jump at the opportunity to make pots and paint them with you for example. Or eat at that tacky Indian restaurant that served GulabJamoons along with the plastic wrappers, warmed to perfection that other day. Or watch that Hindi movie that has the horrendous reviews just for the heck of it. Or waste a quality 60 minutes in your company.

Now, wouldn't that be something?

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Me, me, me.

I suppose this post should come with a disclaimer of some sort so it seems acceptable to all people but I am going to skip the formalities because...ah well, I just can't be bothered. My pollen infested allergy-eyes can barely see the main content leave alone peripheral niceties.

So, I suppose I am still a new comer to this country and in a way, I am still learning the workings of the society and the way the system works here. One small aspect of the whole culture here that I am still getting used to is American weddings. Like George Lopez says to his wife, "Face it. This is not about you!" when he tries to calm an anxious bride whose wedding he is planning ("You are the most beautiful bride I have seen!"). I guess that lady in that episode (She is that famous desperate housewives babe whose name I can't recall) is who I am writing about today.

Yes, the day has to be perfect. Yes, it's magical and a match made in heaven no doubt. But really, to what extent should this blessed day be morphed to match an imagined, perfect wedding day, roses and doves and all?

I guess it strikes me as strange partly because of my background as an Indian. Our weddings are mostly about our parents. Friends and relatives of our parents throng our weddings while our parents stand proudly next to us and introduce countless faces that blur in front of our eyes (The sweat that pours from our over made up foreheads because of the glaring bright spot lights on us as we stand on the stage could be part of the issue). It is a big day for them. We, the bride and the groom are the cynosure of all eyes but in all, it is a bigger day for our parents.

Compared to that, here the day is about the bride and the groom only and mostly about the bride only. The focus is on love and romance and it should be but it also is on what one woman considers her dream day should be like. Down to the colors that border the trim of the bridesmaid's dress. It becomes more about the dress and the decorations and everything material...and how much a planner can match these expectations.

I guess I don't really have that much insight into an American wedding up, close and personal but at least that's what I see from popular television here. I guess in a way it's fun for the bride. It's the day she's dreamed of since she was a little kid (I guess Indian girls dream of getting into IIT when they're 5 :p)...but something strikes me as just off with this setting. Blame it on my brown upbringing...but I tell it like I see it, I guess.

Maybe I am just jealous because I didn't get a day of my own that I could construct bit by bit and watch unfold on D day (I doubt it)...but, who knows? There's more I want to say about this but can't sit out here any more...be back when the season changes. Accchhhhhooo!

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Men don't ask for directions.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to fix the garage shutter."

"Look up yellow pages."

k rummages through pages and pages of old manuals to find our garage manual, "No, I think I can fix it. Give me a few minutes."

A few hours later, I find k sitting on top of our car squinting at the motor hanging from the ceiling of our garage.

"Are you coming to dinner?"

"Give me a few, I am trying to figure this out..."

An hour later k eats dinner in silence poring over the hefty manual.

I give him a gentle reminder, "You know you can have someone fix this for you, it's not worth your time."

"I can get the part for it. I think I know what the problem is. If I get the guy to fix it, he's going to charge $170 unnecessarily."

It's midnight and I still hearing sounds of metal clanging in the garage. I resist the urge to advise and wait. k comes up in a few minutes with something in his hand that looks like a jagged wheel made out of paper balanced on a pointy steel stick.

"You see the problem?", he says pointing to the wheel, "This, here has worn out. So I just need to get a replacement for it."

Next day, k finishes his coffee in a record time of 5 minutes and rushes to the store to get the part. He returns in a couple of hours waving the parts victoriously (Amma, naan paas agiten style).

"I should be done in half an hour."

Half an hour later, I find k in the now familiar on-top-of-car position again, squinting at the wheel in the motor.

I give up and walk back in.

3 hours later, k comes in looking somewhat exhausted and defeated, his hands black from whatever it is that motor ejected on him.

"Want to call the guy?"

"If my test run fails, yes, am planning to..."

Men are like that. They will not ask for help if their life depends on it.

Five minutes later, k walks in looking somewhat more exhausted.

"Want to call the guy?"

"Let me wash my hands first and then clean up and then..."

And so on. Postpone the asking-for-help bit as much as possible.

Finally, surprise! k calls the guy after a record 8 hours of working on the garage.

"He said 70 bucks. If I had known earlier, I would have probably called him yesterday."

Yeah. I bet you would have called him.

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Baby and everything else.

Everything is a blur. Everything is crystal clear. Moments of insanity interspersed with moments of bliss. Chaos and stillness coexist.

Babies can do this to you and much more.

And in between all this, I managed to notice a silvery glow in the sun. A strand of white in an unruly mass of black. And it happened much before I hit my mid-life crisis. And the unlikely discovery took place in the middle of a conversation between k's mom and me. I was describing r's antics to her absently twirling a bit of hair in my index finger (an annoying habit I picked up from a girl at Bits) and the glint distracted me. I stopped speaking for a while and held the strand of white hair in my hand and gasped.

"Mummy, mera baal saphed ho gaya he"

k's mom, being the nice woman she is, gasped along with me, heard the anguish in my voice and commiserated with me. A few moments of silence and she cautions that I should not remove it else two would sprout in it's place. Yeeesh.

Later I reasoned. One white hair after one baby. Not a bad deal after all.

***

r does the funniest things.

Wait a minute...I am not going to be one of those moms that constantly talk about their kids.

Hmm, on second thoughts, I don't mind being that mom :)

So, the other day r woke up from deep sleep and she had the weirdest expression on her face, like she had forgotten that she was born! She looked to her left and then to her right and stared at me with the biggest eyes possible, as if to ask, "Wrong exit?"

***

The funny thing about marriages like ours (N.Indian weds S.Indian) is...actually there are a lot of funny things, conflicts if you will like:

coffee vs tea

rice vs roti

veshti vs what-do-they-call-it-pyjamas?

and now a brand new addition to the repertoire - thooli vs ghodiyu

So, we, meaning k & I, have this thing called a ghodiyu which swings neatly and r has been kind enough to start sleeping in it now. We, meaning S.Indians, use something called a thooli to rock kids to sleep. It's a hammock that's hung from the ceiling rather than from a stand and it's more closed (to resemble the womb). My mom is convinced that a thooli is the ideal sleep solution for r. k meanwhile is thrilled that we try to put r to sleep in a contraption similar to what he refused to sleep on as a baby :p

r meanwhile assumes it's play time whenever we put her in the ghodiyu. She gives this really flirty grin to the decorative stick above her that holds the ghodiyu together and starts playing.

Personally, I doubt she will sleep well in a thooli either. Babies just aren't designed to sleep like adults unless of course it's an $$amby baby$$ :p

***

k claims he can no longer be the "good husband". Apparently the warranty ran out six weeks postpartum.

"Let's see 9 months of pregnancy plus 6 weeks after birth. Yup, now I can stop being so nice..."

"So now you go back to being you again?"

"Basically yes."

"You are a !@#$$$%"

"Not in front of the baby!"

***

I have never considered myself "girly" nor did people give me that impression until sometime ago. Anyway, I rediscovered a girly part of myself with a quick stitch kit. You know how you always see this picture of a happy, heavily pregnant mom knitting her way to glory? Well, I took a short cut and did this instead (I just had to show off here!):


Proud sigh.

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Just say "yes"!

You know this trick men have to pacify their wives, just nod every few minutes and say a few agreeable words like "Hmm...yes", "I can understand", "Makes sense"? Well sometimes, I think that works best for the man and the wife. Especially during pregnancy. The other day I was asking k if he knew what the most annoying question is that people ask me? He came up with a few vague answers and in general was clueless, which is not a big surprise. But anyway, one of the most annoying questions for me is, "Have you been walking/exercising regularly? Or..."

Or what? Or have I been sitting on my fat behind, perching my oh-so-light 25 pounds extra on the sofa and watching the 5th rerun of Still Standing or Rachael Ray's summer treats?

Or have I been lying on bed all day calling k on the cell to ask for some light snacks to be brought up to the bed room?

Actually if you think about it, it's an innocent question by itself but somehow it always rubs me the wrong way. Maybe it's the weird hormonal imbalance in me that manipulates the question in my head so I process it all wrong. Each time!

In my head, I come up with a fitting response each time though I just nod each time and say nothing, for example:

"Oh nooo! My nurse says walking might result in preterm glycomalampsiacal abberrations!"

"Nooo, I am waiting for you to gain 20-30 pounds extra and join me for walking, that way we can both enjoy how light and breezy we both feel about the walk, so shall we say, next Tuesday?"

"No, I haven't been walking. I prefer not to move much from my bed so I can stay relaxed all day long. Of course my company understands and so does my husband. In fact, the other day my company sent me flowers that my husband arranged in a pretty vase next to my bed so I can smell it without getting out of bed..."

Or I could go with the really simple, "No. I don't believe in walking" response.

Anyhow, coming back to the topic, sometimes the least stressful thing for a woman to hear during her pregnancy is just a yes. Not a detailed logical response explaining why her idea won't work, not a sorta-yes-sorta-no head shake, just a bright, agreeable "Yes!".

"Can we go on a cruise with our one week old baby so we can both recover?"

"Yes, of course dear!"

"Let's plan the India trip that we will make in 2015 so I can make sure we are all set..."

"Yes, I agree. Let's do that!"

"I want tea at 8.30 in the night 15 minutes before dinner."

"Of course, good idea, I'll make some for myself too!"

"Will the baby be born with 6 fingers?"

"Yes..." Well, it doesn't always work but 3 out of 4 ain't bad!

See, what I mean? There is an RSS (Really Simple Solution) to every problem on earth. And if men were to ask me the one thing they could do to ensure a stress-free la-dee-dah pregnancy for their wives, I would say, "Yes. Just say yes!".

Reminds me of this movie in which Rajnikanth will keep saying "Yesssss, yessss" without understanding what the other person says in English :)

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The whole comparison business.

Whenever I talk to k about any given situation and say something like, "Similar to what she did when...", he immediately counters with "Don't compare". I am a reasonable lady and I normally would agree but then I wonder if this is just something that men automatically say to prevent "problems" for them, know what I mean?

It's like they (apologies for generalizing but then if I keep giving disclaimers for my thoughts, I would have more of a disclaimer summary and less of a coherent post!) want to avoid situations in the future where the wife would go, "Oh! But he did this for his wife when he came home late for dinner" or "He baked this double chocolate layer cake with their names spelled out in Monotype corsiva font with icing but you just fixed the tap for Valentine's day!" I wonder if men hate comparisons for this reason more than any logical trail of thoughts about how individuals react differently in different situations and it's not fair to compare and all that good stuff.

The other day, I asked k if he considered me a good cook and I made the mistake of beginning my question with, "Compared to other girls here..." and he went into auto-mode and said, "You can't compare". Uhh ok. So, if I were the only person in a given sample space cooking, I guess that would make me the best and worst cook there is since I can't compare. Which is kind of silly, if you think about it because any rating, ranking, position in society is somewhat based on comparison. I work as an engineer because compared to the other candidates, my employer thought I was better not because in a sample space of 1, I was better than another given sample space of 1 consisting of another candidate. I wouldn't even know how to compare those 2 sample spaces and in any case that renders my argument null and void because we are still comparing! k proposed to me (as in marriage proposal :p) because Gasp! He compared me with other girls!

So I am sort of confused with this whole comparison business. I remember reading articles on spirituality that claim comparison will only cause unhappiness but then that's how we function in a society...is this house better compared to the other houses in the neighborhood? Is this car being sold at a better price compared to n other cars? Is this blog better than the 10 other blogs I read today morning dealing exclusively in life's trivialities and such?

In conclusion, I arrive at no conclusion about comparing. I do have a thought about men and comparisons though. I bet they compare in their heads. All the time. They just don't verbalize it like women do so later on they can claim, "There you go comparing again!" with a lengthy sigh.

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To-do list.

So, I made this long list of things to do because chores were piling up and mainly because my vacation started yesterday - k says it's a difficult time for him when I am sitting at home doing nothing! Hmm...and I always thought I'd be a dainty darlin' house wife :p

Anyway, I made a neat list on the magnetic pad on our fridge.


k came home for lunch and saw the list and added his 2 cents to it :)

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Doing the dishes.

Ask me to name one thing that has been around ever since k & I got married, always there to remind us of what life can offer, that "if we dish 'em out, we better be able to take it",always full, always loud and always demanding our attention, and I would reply instantly (like those annoying first-bench students in school who would raise their hands even before the teacher asked the question - I, on the other hand, was cool, I sat on the second bench, NOT the first! Ok, aside over, back to topic now->)...where was I? You know what? I am not very fond of asides, as my Professor once said, "If you think something's important enough to put in parenthesis, you might as well make it part of the original sentence". Anyway, back to our constant companion:

"The Sink!" (accompanied with drumroll)

You are now going to ask me if I have had too much of coffee or javascript for the day and perhaps, I should blog at a time when my brain decides to construct relatively saner thoughts? And I would say, "Ah ha!".

Actually, I would say, "Let me explain why" but I would probably throw in the "Ah ha" too - it make such an impression in a conversation, don't you think?

Where was I? The sink. Yes, our long association (especially k's looong association) with the sink began during our marriage - nalangu (the fun and games part of a TamBram wedding). I had a small container of dal and k had to convince me to give him the dal and this is what followed:

"Please give me the dal"

Lol (like that would work!)

"I will buy you a saree/piece of jewellery/something cute if you give me the dal"

"Gee, thanks! But, no thanks!"

"Ok, tell me what you want..."

(Now we are talking!) "Promise to do the dishes the first three months after our wedding"

And things were going pretty much according to plan (mine) when k's mom, who until then was busy chatting with her sisters, suddenly turned to k and asked, "So, what did she ask" and after being informed of my demand, she said, "Whaaa? My son is not going to do the dishes! Poooor Kamal" etc. k, predictably, beamed.

I, being the docile, shy bahu etc smiled and looked down and gave k the dal.

Scene change. Fast-forward a year into our marriage and you will see "beaming k" loading the dishes carefully into the dishwasher (hey! don't give me that look, I cook and unload the dishwasher!)

Scene change. We are at B&P's place and have just had tea. I rinse my mug at the sink and k follows. But we notice that he spends an extra long time at the sink. Apparently, their sink (like ours) is unhappy with k and wishes to gush out in anger at him.

Scene change. We are at work and I walk into the break area at around 10 AM and whom do I see there but my dear husband, staring morosely at the office sink. It clogged too!

And that's when k made peace with his constant companion, the kitchen sink. They clog less when he's around now and he in turn, treats them with the TLC that a faithful companion deserves!

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Marriage, workplace and related 100% nonsense!

Their hands remain locked in an intimate embrace throughout the get-together. Now and then, she smiles at a joke and leans casually towards him, gently touches his shoulder and shares a private joke with him-a small family secret just between them-and he smiles indulgently. When dinner is served, he stands in line for her, chivalrously balances two plates and hands one of his plates to her. She says something along the lines of “Thank you, dear” and he replies, a look of serious concern on his handsome face, “I took some extra salad for you, you do like cherry tomatoes, don’t you?” And he is right. How can he not be? They are the perfect couple. They are pleasant, charming, absolutely in love and totally faking it.

While it is nice to imagine rosy sequences like above, real life is more like this:

He drives over the speed-limit because they are late for the party. She holds on to dear life and promptly requests that her husband slow down, now! She cares for her dear life even if he doesn’t! His response does a good job of matching her sarcasm. And finally they arrive at the party. They immediately go separate ways as if the party has just relieved them of their almost unbearable prior company. They eat standing away from each other and they don’t know if their spouse has eaten yet, perhaps they don’t care. They sulk and prefer silence to social niceties like nodding and uh-uh-ing at appropriate intervals. They drive back in silence.

I guess, most of us fall somewhere in-between. We have some good days and some not-so-good ones. And for couples like us that work at the same office, there are several interesting ways to extend a fight. Summarized below are just a few examples:

1) We now have a set of virtual channels customized just to enable and further our arguments! Hey! I can ping him on chat, send him an email or walk over to his cube to tell him what I have already told him on the way to work – “You are wrong!” And surprise, he can respond back, again, with “No, You are not.”

See? Not only have we enriched our lives by spending more quality (fighting) time with each other, we have found meaningful ways to diversify the channels along which our arguments flow!

2) Then, there is the drive. The drive to work, the drive from work, the drive to lunch and back where we can further analyze and reiterate our points of view. Good food and good chemistry! Now, who can beat that?

3) Now, ask me how else we are contributing not only to our marital entertainment but to the good of everyone and I will tell you – we car pool! That means, we get up on time and go to work at the same time and leave at the same time. This seemingly innocuous activity has further strengthened our bonds. We can now have healthy arguments with each other like – “I need to be at work for a meeting at 8.30AM” and pat comes the reply, “It’s already 1 AM, I don’t think I can get up in time for your meeting.” See how we have so many more interesting riddles to solve? I mean, how boring is it to drive separate ways and come back in the evening to spend an hour describing the day’s activities to your spouse! Nah, we like to have healthy discussions about when we wake up, go to work and return, everyday! It’s like vitamin pills for a marriage!

4) And if you are an organized woman like most women are, who truly believes that "Cleanliness is next to Godliness", even though it's a cliche, maintains lists and classifies chores as his, hers and ours, firstly, you should rename your lists to be more specific like - his chores inside the house, his chores for the yard, miscellaneous cleaning activities, her kitchen chores...(getting carried away, focus now!), secondly, you can now ping him on chat once an hour and remind him to check his tada-list, how cool is that?! You have thus proven that you are a successful house-keeper (home-builder? Whatever the current catchy phrase is) while still being a career woman! Three cheers to you!

And in conclusion, I recommend that couples work together at the same office and marital stress will be a thing of the past!

And thus ends my essay (of course, it was fiction! What did you think? :p) titled: “Short-term and long-term effects of workplace on married folks!” or “Why couples should work together!”

Note: Until brain returns back to sanity and writing returns back to tolerable, do please put up with bits and pieces of nonsense such as the above. Thanks.

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