Be it jokes, anecdotes, idle chatter about matrimony, it’s always men cribbing about losing their “freedom” to women after marriage. And what takes the cake is that under all that joviality they actually believe it. And so you have those who pretend to spend their lives escaping it and those who live their lives cribbing about it.
Makes me wonder why exactly is complaining about marriage a man’s prerogative?
They still get to live with mommy, the name on their passport remains the same, they still don’t pick up after themselves, the kitchen remains terra incognito, meals still get cooked, the house stays clean with no help from them thank you very much. And then there are the questions and expectations. I haven’t seen any man fend off questions about the missing thalimala/mangalsutra/sindoor or lose sleep over not looking married enough! I have still not been able come to terms with this last bit! No one ever commented on how I don’t look unmarried enough earlier, what’s this obsession with labeling a woman once she’s hitched? Is it some kind of an expiry date alert? Anyhow, that’s a debate for another time. Right now my gripe is against men grumbling about getting the short end of the rope in the marital tug of war.
This debate maybe old hat for those who have danced the jive of matrimony for a few years now but for new recruits, the steps make you go dizzy sometimes. Here you are uprooted from all things familiar, plunked into a new domain altogether. New faces, new people, different folks and their varied points of view -some amaze you, others amuse but none that you can argue with (being a D-I-L), then there’s a whole new set of expectations that come along with the wedding gifts, unsigned but shared by all, it gets a while to find your feet in the new territory. And what does the husband have to do? Ah well, make room for one more person. And life goes on. (maybe I am being unduly harsh, but I have reason to be…read on and you will know why!)
Oh sure they try to make you feel they are willing contributors in household chores. I am still waiting for the dishes to be washed; hoping against hope, of course. Oh yes, they promise not to smoke in the house; that’s another story that my loo smells like a gas chamber. Work comes home at times and you understand that he is too busy to take you out, but not too busy to catch that episode of Robinhood he missed last evening! He grazes his elbow and it requires more than a kiss to heal the boo-boo; your back hurts at night, you are asked to go sleep on the floor ‘cos it’s good for your back! And then we women get blamed for being nags!
Little wonder then that I get upset every time a man laments his marital trials and tribulations! But that doesn’t stop the male species from jumping hoops to get hitched, promising you the moon and the stars and the works during courtship. Next time you get that spiel, ask them if the offer includes washing dishes. I didn’t and I am suffering. As of now while he dreams sweet dreams, I have to reckon with dirty utensils!