Patidev is a polygamist...

... and I like it!

Patidev is strictly a monogamist at home. However, at work, he has a small harem, and men and women are equally in his little harem. He brews coffee for them; listens about their brats, inlaws and significant others; complains about his; laughs with them; and truly, genuinely worries about them when they are unhappy.

Does your t-shirt say anything about you?

Quiz: Which of these does his t-shirt say about him?

a. Patidev loves all things free.
b. Patidev loves all things free.
c. Patidev likes Hummer. Patidev loves all things free.

The Lucky Thirteen

It is the theme of millions of stories - from your sleazy magazine to Shakespeare. It is there in every culture, Indian, Arabic, European, American, and others. It is a theme depicted extensively art, dance, music, plays, movies, and even architecture. It is universal. And I never believed in it.

It is the existence of soul mates. Of people who were made for each other and no other.

I think that people who believe in soul mates must have such unhappy marriages. How could you have a violent disagreement on which sofa to buy, if you are really made for each other? Every fight, every argument, must prove that you are married to the wrong dude, that your real soul mate is out there, lonely (or like you, stuck with the wrong dudette). What a miserable way to lead your life.

So, for me, there would not be a soul mate. There would be chemistry. There would be love. There would be companionship. There would be the moments where your stomach does a cartwheel. There would be the moments where you would say the same thing at the same time. There would be books and movies and hobbies you would enjoy together. But, no soul mate, please. I want to have those disagreements, those long discussions, those compromises. I want to hate the movie that he loves, and love the book that he can never finish. I want to live with a person, who will challenge me to grow up a little bit more every day.

So, we started our married life, thirteen years ago, sans soul mates and fairy tales. Just two people who were in love, and thought they were better off spending the remaining years with each other than without.

Years later, I have come to believe in soul mates. Not the ones that are made for each other - rather, those that grow into the role. You become a soul mate, and gain one. You share those years, and those memories, and know those little Seinfeld-ish things that you hate about each other. Soon, without realizing it, the little Seinfeld-ish things become the things that make you laugh, that make you and him adorable - to each other.

Not everyone finds their soul mate. Patidev and I must be damn lucky!

Vacuum

I feel the still air that should dance with your laughter. I feel the empty touch of your fingers reaching for my hand. I feel your absent warmth all around me. I feel your missing smile that tells me that everything has to be alright because we have each other. I feel the vacuum that you have left in your wake.

Vacuum isn't nothing. It is the absence of something.

When you were next to me, I'd stretch every moment just a bit longer, to savor it, and to hold on to it, so I could relive it and fill this vacuum. Only, this vacuum does not get filled, it gets hollower every time I try to fill it.

In support of "love" marraiges ...

By definition, when you are unmarried, you know jack-shit about love. The industry of arranged marraige is based on this thesis. The arguement goes: You can't know who you can love, so let us more experienced folks, with sometimes dysfunctional marraiges, tell you who to love.

I fully understand parents, friends, others, introducing people to potential mates (whether through arranged matches or otherwise). What I am speaking out against is the concept that arranged matches are the ONLY way one can/should meet their partner.

And, the elders are right. You will know jack-shit about love till you have lived with someone you love for 10 years.

Then, if you have found the right person to live and share your life with, you will feel like Sean in Good Will Hunting.

There is no way you can know when you get into a relationship how you will feel in 10 years - but neither can the elders touting all their experience with love and relationship. The only way to do this is to take a chance with someone you think you can love 10, 20, 30 years hence.

Dialogue from Good Will Hunting between Will and his shrink Sean:

Will: [about Skylar] Don't worry about me, I know what I'm doin'. Yeah, but this girl is like, you know, beautiful. She's smart. She's funny. She's different from most of the girls I've been with.

Sean: So, call her up, Romeo.

Will: Why? So I can realize she's not that smart, that she's fuckin' boring? Y'know? I mean...this girl is like fuckin' perfect right now, I don't wanna ruin that.

Sean: Maybe you're perfect right now. Maybe you don't wanna ruin that. I think that's a super philosophy, Will, that way you can go through your entire life without ever having to really know anybody...My wife used to fart when she was nervous. She had all sorts of wonderful idiosyncrasies. You know what? She used to fart in her sleep. [they laugh] Sorry I shared that with you. One night it was so loud it woke the dog up. She woke up and gone like "oh was that you?" I'd say yeah...I didn't have the heart to tell her...Oh God...

Will: She woke herself up?

Sean: Yes!.... Oh Christ....aahhh, but, Will, she's been dead two years and that's the shit I remember. Wonderful stuff, you know, little things like that. Ah, but, those are the things I miss the most. The little idiosyncrasies that only I knew about. That's what made her my wife. Oh and she had the goods on me, too, she knew all my little peccadillos. People call these things imperfections, but they're not, aw that's the good stuff. And then we get to choose who we let into our weird little worlds. You're not perfect, sport. And let me save you the suspense. This girl you met, she isn't perfect either. But the question is: whether or not you're perfect for each other. That's the whole deal. That's what intimacy is all about. Now you can know everything in the world, sport, but the only way you're findin' out that one is by givin' it a shot.

Grace where it matters

We were going out on a trip. Just before leaving, patidev went to withdraw money for the trip. While leaving for the airport, I checked with him if he had managed to withdraw money. He had.

Upon reaching, I found out that he had withdrawn money for his expenses, but had not thought about topping off my purse. I was ready to head out shopping when I found this out, and was quite ticked off.

Had this been a misunderstanding with anyone else, I would have assured them many times that I had my credit card, and it really was no issue. However, given that it was patidev, I gave him an irritated "how can you be such a bozo?" look.

Why is it that the adjustments we make in life is an inverse relationship to the love we feel for someone? We treat strangers with grace. However, when it comes to our spouse, parents, and children, the grace evaporates.

Next time I am upset at patidev, I am going to go through a mental exercise, and replace him with my aunt's brother-in-law's neighbor. Then I am going to treat him with the same courtesy that I would extend to the aunt's brother-in-law's neighbor.

Coupledom

Why is it that we couples feel absolutely comfortable jabbing at each other in public? I have been in spouse bashing conversations, such as:

"Have you ever tasted my wife's cooking? You will know why we hired a cook. Ha. ha."
"You talk about cooking? My husband doesn't know how to dress himself unless I lay out his shirt on the bed. At least you could hire a cook. Ha. Ha."

Why are we all vying for the "my spouse is the worst" title? Why don't we instead speak about the thoughtful acts, the funny moments, the loving gestures? Why are the most wonderful acts of married life locked in the privacy of the bedroom, and all the dirty laundry washed in public?

I was probably most guilty of spouse bashing during courtship. I thought it was sickeningly sweet when a couple fawned over each other; and thought it was cool when a couple seemed very secure in their love, and never needed to exhibit it publicly.

However, as life progresses adding kids, career, and stresses, an undercurrent of real criticism lines these friendly jabs. How does one respond to those? Laugh with the jabber? Sympathize with the jabbee? Defend the jabbee? Change the topic? Ignore?

Maybe, it is time to stop the jabbing altogether?

It is the season

NBA season is on. The brats are asleep. Patidev is glued to TV. Which is good.

Before we had the brats, and when Jordan was still playing, he was simply an extension of the television. Now, it is easier. He can be unglued.

I admire him for keeping his passion for basketball alive. I fear that some day he may stop watching, just as my reading organically degenerated into skimming.