We started our married life in Mumbai in my
aunt Rama’s house. We had to wait for our turn for a house to be allotted by
the Navy. Since aunt Rama was away at Secunderabad for her delivery, she
invited us to stay at her place. Uncle Bhoj was in the Western Railways and
lived in a large three bedroom apartment in Cuffe parade, overlooking the sea
(now a reclaimed area to house the fishermen’s colony). He used to tour often
so we had the house pretty much to ourselves. Srivatsa was in the Naval
Dockyard and his timings were cool. We could spend a lot of time together,
going to movies, visiting his colleagues and attending parties.
One
day, when Srivatsa got back from work, I suggested I see a doctor to confirm my
hope. Since the Naval hospital had a male gynecologist, I persuaded him to take
me to a private clinic. Dr. Mrs Fernandes called my husband in after examining
me and in a dead pan voice, told him, “Your wife is pregnant”. And I wanted to
do it the filmy style, all coy and cuddly and sucking a tamarind!
This
is not a chronological document of events in my life so I am going on a dizzy
roller coaster to dwell on those aspects which would be of interest to you as a
reader. I would like to share with you some of my experiments with truth about
marriage. It is amazing how you have guidelines written down for practically
all professions but none for what is the most important Institution that we
enter with our own expectations. Conflict follows and unless one or the other
gives in, it could spell doom. Very rarely is a marriage successful, with both
the husband and wife retaining their identity. I wish all our colleges would
introduce a subject on life skills, to educate students on their role in making
marriage work on an equal status keel. I’d gladly write out the module for it!
The
first few years of married life, like everyone else’s, was a bit bumpy.
Srivatsa the fiancé was different from Srivatsa the husband. And I’m sure he
found me the same. My family environment was noisy and informal. Even on grandpa’s
death anniversary, dad and his brothers would have a beer before lunch and grandmother
would be sitting around, talking to them. She had changed a lot over the years
though she continued to be intimidating. There would be a lot of tomfoolery and
exchange of bawdy jokes. Srivatsa’s family is conservative and quiet. I had no
problem going with that. What hassled me was my dear hubby’s obsession with
cleanliness! To some extent, he reminded me of the Naval Captain in Sound Of Music! He also had this habit
of going into a pregnant silence if he was unhappy about anything I said or
did. It would last for days and weeks without my knowing what I had done.
Once,
when we went to Bangalore, I told my mother I would like to divorce him. She asked
a question very quietly, “where will you go?” That told me I had to make my
marriage work for she was not going to support me if it didn’t. I went to
grandmother and sought her counsel. She said thatha was a terror when she married him but she took over
somewhere along the line. I just had to have patience and be smart, she assured
me. It sounded good so I dug in my heels and got into the act.
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