It has been close to 5 months since my marriage but still the ice breaker questions remain the same. I don't know what answer is expected, but I'm sure I satisfy most people with my, "Oh, it is quite same as before. All good.".
But come to think of it, there have been innumerable changes. Some good and some not so. I didn't exactly take to married life like a fish to water. I couldn't cook to save my life. I had never ironed a handkerchief. I didn't know how a washing machine operates (still don't, actually). And I had no clue about the price of stuff! And I am not claiming that I have perfected the change now. Actually, I doubt that people are able to perfect it even after years of being married.
There are days when I feel terribly homesick. Days when I marvel at the fact that I am managing an entire kitchen on my own
now, keeping tabs on flour, sugar, pulses, spices. Days, when I have to remind myself that this change in my life is permanent and this two bedroom flat with pristine white walls and little furniture is my new home. And those days I miss the pista - green walls of my old room which screamed of me! Remember Chinki, how we debated on the perfect colour and the pattern for the front wall? The green and yellow squares did turn out to be pretty well. There was a slight error in one of the squares which made it a little lopsided. I used to concentrate on that anomaly while studying. Well, everyone has weird quirks! Oh, and I had chipped the paint off the ceiling when the newly constructed room was just a few months old with double - sided tape during my college film shoot! Bits of DST are still sticking to the ceiling! And the amazing bookshelf which made me want to read even more.
Just a couple of days back I and Bobby were talking about our old homes. And I
remembered having dinner together in the then gray tiled kitchen, sitting cross legged on the orange plastic mat which had white
burfi like patterns on it. I used to sit next to papa in the narrow doorway. It made it easier for me to pass all the things I didn't like to his plate. Dinner was an event and we never missed the television upstairs in ma - papa's bedroom. And when we did get a 14 inch black bodied Sony TV for the living room, its most fond usage was for watching Zee News right before heading off for school and listening to bad
bhajans sung on filmi tunes before the news telecast begun.
Surprisingly, I even miss watching soap operas with Ma. She used to sniffle at every other scene and I used to tease her. "You better shed more tears at my wedding Ma, than you waste on these silly serials (she didn't, by the way). Same story everyday. :) She either made us have dinner before 8 or after 8.30. The half an hour in between was reserved for Anandi. Guests were grudgingly entertained at that time. And if after the wait, dinner was
tori, arabi, ghiya, tinde, gobhi or
bhindi, I used to create a scene and dad was always on my side. I am a fussy eater and as a result, every second day I had
paneer in my tiffin box and a sweet everyday. Not that I can't have a sweet everyday and
paneer frequently, but the charm of knowing that Ma made it especially for me and just for me and others got
gobhi or some green and yucky vegetable, is something irreplaceable.
And I miss my mental Ma the most, who used to iron even my undergarments and cry at advertisements of serials. Ma, who guessed I had fallen in love without my having to worry about finding ways to drop the bomb. Papa, who wouldn't sit still for a second if he knew I wanted something. 'Papa, I can't find my 10th class mark sheet' and there he'd go, leaving his dinner half eaten to forge for it in his cupboard. Papa, who would become an electrician, cleaner, teacher, driver or anything under the sun for his daughters.
And here I am, cooking
achari bhindi (I haven't tasted it ever but I have heard that I make it
pretty well, by the way) and missing the pakoras papa made for me last weekend. And I can't help but wish that I could still be the star slicer, chopper, dicer for Ma because that was the only way I could help her. But unlike Hannah Montana, I can't have the best of both worlds unless Bobby agrees to become a
ghar jamai. And I'm not taking the risk of giving him such ideas because the crazy guy he is, he can figure out ways to make that happen as well.
So, where were we? Yes, at "how are you liking your married life?". Well, I miss tonnes of things but I'm making millions of irreplaceable memories here. So, yes, all good. Thanks.
