"Men marry women with the hope they will never change. Women marry men with the hope they will change. Invariably, they are both disappointed." – Albert Einstein
Today marks our 25th wedding anniversary. A
Silver Jubilee. They say speech is silver, but silence is golden. In my house,
speech is hers, and silence is my coping mechanism for survival.
An anniversary is just the day a year ago you were way less annoyed by each other. They say marriages are made in heaven. But, then again, so are thunder, lightning, tornadoes and hail. We have somehow survived a quarter of a century under the same roof without killing each other. That alone deserves a medal, a presidential pardon, or at the very least, a dinner where the prices on the menu have no more than three digits.
Exactly 25 years ago, I married Ambika, my best friend. The great thing about marriage is finding that one special person you want to annoy for the rest of your life. By the way, do you know what I did before I got married? Anything I wanted to.
We met during our CA studies and within a few months she convinced me that almost everything I was doing was wrong. I should have taken the hint. Instead, I proposed. Over the years, I have been wrong in four continents, 12 countries and still counting.
Looking back, it is incredibly obvious that her judgment was severely impaired in her younger years. Love may be blind, but marriage is a real eye-opener. To this day, I have no scientific explanation for how she has tolerated my existence for 9,131 days (yes, every day of survival matters). That is 219,144 hours of her questioning her life choices and me watching a lot of Test cricket.
Marriage is when a man and woman become as one, but the trouble starts when they try to decide which one. I want to publicly thank my wife for letting me believe that I am the one in charge, while she efficiently runs the entire show from behind the scenes like a seasoned puppet master. I don’t go the way life takes me, I go the way my wife takes me, normally to shopping malls or tourist destinations.
Ambika has been my greatest strength for the last 25 years. Through every high, every low, and every major crisis, she has been by my side offering unwavering support. I keep a picture of her in my wallet. Whenever I am faced with troubles, stress, or trauma, I stop, take out my wallet, and look at her photo. Instantly, all my other problems completely disappear. I look at her face and remind myself: “What could possibly be worse than this?” It brings a strange, peaceful perspective to any crisis.
Of course, every successful marriage requires compromise. I compromise by doing the chores she asks me to do, and she compromises by re-doing them properly right after me. She makes the marriage work. I make the jokes. However, she still sneers at my (poor) jokes even after 25 years. It is about time she accepted her fate, lowered her standards, and started laughing at my (dad) jokes. Just last month, I told my wife that a husband is like a fine wine; he gets better with age. The next day, she locked me in the cellar.
I am especially grateful to Ambika for the supreme act of mercy when she pardoned my life after I completely forgot her birthday two consecutive years in a row. I was lucky to avoid the death penalty and get downgraded to life without parole in the guest bedroom. But I am glad that the statute of limitations on that has expired and I can afford to forget it again.
The truth is that I have reached a stage in life
where I can’t even sleep without being nagged at constantly during the day. When
she is away and there is nobody to criticize my actions, I actually get
separation anxiety. Her nagging has become my white noise. Without it, the
silence is terrifying. I actually had to download an app that just plays the
sound of a woman nagging just so I could fall asleep.
Though Ambika always complains that I forget everything, I can’t remember forgetting anything. On anniversaries the wise husband may forget the past, but he had better never forget the present. I told her that my presence is her ultimate present, but judging by the look on her face, I figured I may need to buy something. So, I bought her a premium vacuum cleaner. I figured after 25 years of cleaning up my act I should finally give her some professional assistance. Ha ha ha.. just kidding. I am not a fool to spend so much money on a gift. I just bought her the mug in the photo.
Do you want to know how I survived 25 years of married life? First, I listen to my heart. Then, I listen to my brain. Then, I do what my wife tells me to do. When people ask me the secret to my marriage, I tell them that marriage is all about give and take. You had better give it to her, or she will take it anyway. After all these years, I have figured out that there are only two things necessary to keep a wife happy. One is to let her think she is having her own way, and the other is to actually let her have it.
Meanwhile, have you noticed that men
constantly twist the wedding ring on their finger? Basically, he is trying to
figure out the combination to the cuffs. After 25 years, I finally figured out
my combination: “Yes, Dear.” But jokes aside, if I had the chance to do it all
over again, I would still choose her, preferably before she has a chance to
change her mind.
Marriage is like a phone call in the night: first the ring, and then you wake up. - Evelyn Hendrickson
I have been awake for 25 years.
What about you?
P.S. Ambika is the luckiest person in the world. She is the only wife who has had two blogs written on her wedding anniversary. In 2008, I had written the blog I don't forget anniversaries.
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