I have not been blogging for a long while. In times of tight financial circumstances, one has to drop everything else and concentrate on the paying jobs, however uncool they might be. Well, I am back. Not that we have attained nirvana of the monetary kind. I am taking a sabbatical from the joint parenting and chilling all by myself at my home in Kerala. The grandparents take care of the boy. The responsible adult of my life is alone in Delhi, missing us (better be) and possibly enjoying the childfree days of his life. I therefore have time to sit and blog.
This note is about him; the person who read out poetry to my
pregnant belly; the one who cooks not just occasional fancy dinners but the everyday
simple dinners too. Our days and nights are full of love, punctuated with yells
and meltdowns and sarcastic remarks. I cannot imagine a life without having the
sarcastic titter tatter we share with each other. Seriously, if some random person
hears us talk, they will readily assume that we are having a nasty fight, but
hey, we are romancing. Caustic wit is the binding force in our household. The
more acerbic the words, the better. Only we can deduct the teasing romance from
the seemingly sarcastic wordplay.
The marriage is rather new but the relationship is old. The
relationship goes back to immaturity while we were friends who posted regular
letters to each other. Inland letters, you see. We then became obsessed lovers
who acted either possessive or detached and called it mayhem. We practically
matured together and became these evolved sorted lover beings. We still revisit
our mayhem days from time to time. We have clear likes and dislikes, about each
other and about the world in general. But we are getting there, that familiar
space where you likes and dislikes match. Some things are left in an
“oh-you-are-like-that-only” void.
I like the neckpiece of Chicken, fat chunks in pork, and fat
lined slices of beef. He doesn’t like to eat the exact same things I love to
eat. I am not so much of a chicken breast, meaty meat person. This is how we
attain perfect harmony in our dining table. We are the Yin and Yang of balanced
meat consumption. Now any meat lover would know what this means to a relationship.
What makes this bond special is the fondness we have for
each other. There were days when we yelled unpolished words at each other.
There were tantrums, frustrations, sadness and quiet. There were days when we overflowed
with love. There were days when we had absolute domestic bliss. There were days
when domesticity was nothing but leaky drainpipes and fatigue. The fondness is
what keeps us going, day after day.
For some time I honestly thought that a person can never
have a best friend. Wrong. Here he is, my best friend, the best parenting partner, my body shaped dent in
the sofa, the most comfortable place to be.
