Papoosh etc - Marriage, Motherhood, Mayhem and Musings!

  Read it on Medium here   My husband and I have been married for more than a decade now and have been partners for almost double that. Today, we have a fairly solid marriage; meaning there are days we absolutely cannot stand each other but still manage to work like a well-oiled machine. And there are most of the other days where we know without a doubt that there is no one else we would rather spend our lives with. This well-oiled machine did not spring up overnight though. The drafts were made much before we even got married. Because much before we actually got married, we broke up. Much like a phoenix, we rose from the ashes. We crashed and burnt. But, we also rebuilt something from those ashes. We rebuilt a stronger relationship and ultimately our marriage.   The history When the man and I met, we were young, starry eyed and hopelessly in love. We moved quickly. Within a few months, we moved into a house and less than a year in, we moved cities so he could be closer to his family.

Aah young love! It does not have the finesse and stability that comes with years of partnership. But, it more than makes up for it with it’s rush of hormones, with how it manages to gloss over all faults, with how it makes our hearts and eyes flutter. Remembering young love brings with it memories of youth, memories of why I chose my husband in the first place. Keeps me grounded when I want to throw in the towel. It is for this reason that I hold on to my impressions of our youth, our early days. On days that the man frustrates me so, on days when the years of domesticity feel dreary, harking back to these times reminds me that the sun shall shine, soon and gloriously ! Your eyes, They twinkle, Shine and sparkle, They tease and flirt, They crinkle with mirth, Your eyes , my love, Make me soar above. Your eyes Tell a story, Of pain so sorry, They tell me how, Under blow after blow, You stood your ground Refused to bow. Your eyes, my dearest, They fire in me a tempest. Your eyes, They gl

  On a long weekend, as newly weds often do, I found some of the rose tint wearing off. Not being used to domesticity, the husband and I tried to find a rhythm to our oddly jarring gears. The whirring, the creaking, it took a while for us to get our marriage here; to the mostly well oiled machine it is now.  These lines, though,  are a throwback to more than a decade ago . Lines that flowed freely, a salve that soothed my burning angst. A testament to love, a testament to fortitude, a testament to a marriage that has taught me oodles of patience. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing this.   And you sit there And have the gall To accuse me Playing ball You say With your emotions A story that is as tall As you, or worse As deep As me. My supreme sacrifice In this, my silence Not one of my virtues you see, Grips me in a vise While you dribble Around, and fumble Reach out and snatch At words that refuse to latch Onto exactly what you would like To say. And still… I wa

 Prachi* closed her eyes, this was probably the 25th forward/post she had read in the last few days about a child’s “duty” towards its ageing parents. The usual lines about how parents gave up everything for you, the usual story lines about how the child, now an adult, realises how wrong he was to commit his mother/father to an old age home, the usual pulling at heartstrings; a guilt trip almost guaranteed. As she was putting her thoughts together, “Surprise” a familiar voice whispered into her ear as the most amazing arms in the world engulfed her. Tushar her son kissed the top of her head and Prachi beamed with joy at this unexpected visit. As they caught up on Tushar’s unexpected visit from abroad, he explained how he’d flown down for a few meetings and luckily they happened to be in the same city as her. He had moved some things around so was also able to take the day off. Excitedly, they made plans for the rest of the day and spent it going to some of their favourite places when