“With or without you”- this gem of a song by the rock band U2, has been a favourite of mine since the growing up years. Now, it is almost the theme song for my married life. The hubby and I regularly belt out this number for each other. With or without you, I can’t live…with or without you. There are times when I glare my eyes out at him. There are other times when I desperately wish there was a remote control device made bespoke for him; where I could just say “Mute”, “Off”, “Change”, “Volume low”, and other such sweet nothings. Just imagine , how nice it would be! Hey, I can actually see all you married souls grinning!
Some days, I feel so exasperated with this marriage thing that I want to shout at the universe- ” Give me a brrrreeeaaaakkkk “- from this pig headed and obnoxious man , who always talks in a high pitch; from this opinionated alpha male who raves and rants about every topic under the sun ( where’s the bespoke remote? ). There are times when I have earnest conversations with the supreme presence, and ask him- Why, oh why, is it, that a “discussion” with THIS man ( fingers pointed ) always and always turns into a full- blown argument? Will there ever be a day when we will be able to have a sane, calm “discussion”( do I see men looking heavenward at this word? ) without tempers fraying and one or both of us stomping out of the room?
Then, there are times when I feel ” What would I do without this lovable bull ? ” This bull who :
is a wonderful father to our two daughters and who let’s himself be bullied, punched and pummeled by his princesses; who has been a complete hands on dad since their births; who gives in to their Sunday morning demand of shampooing their hair.
buys those packets for me with panache, when cousin Red comes visiting every month. And insists on going on at eleven in the night , if he comes to know that I don’t have any.
eats whatever I cook , with gratitude and love; and praises it to the skies ( to anyone and everyone) , leaving me almost embarassed as I am no Julia child ( or closer home- Tarla Dalal ).
didn’t let me move out of the bed for a month when I was unwell; and nursed me back to health, like a mother would.
lets me BE and respects me as a “person”, above everything else. Doesn’t ever try to impose any of his ideas on me and wants me to be my own person, always.
is as liberated as they make them and treats me as his intellectual equal. I would have felt stifled with anyone else.
stood like a rock behind me as I took decisions for myself; telling me to stop worrying about what elders/people would say. And I know that it’s not a cakewalk, saying and doing that.
gave his 500 % and more, to his family and near ones; striving to be the best son/brother that one could be.
I am writing all this, and I am realising that the “Don’t likes”have been outnumbered by the “I loves”. So, my dear husband, I know that you are truly one of a kind ; and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I have come to find your raving & ranting about a million issues of the world, quite endearing. I know that you will enter the hell with me, if I need you to. I know that even you would not have it any other way.
With you, I fight. Without you , I wither away.
© Oct 2016 Sapna Dhyani Devrani