Slice
of Life
Blow
Hot
Blow Cold
Richa
Jha
Her
Story: The Wifey Speaks
"It seems you don't love me anymore," pouted The
Hubby.
"You think so? Tell me about it," I replied nonchalantly,
his words not even registering because I was busy worrying
why the mini-kid had not kicked even once in the last several
hours (The Hubby finds it amusing: he says I fret when it
does, I worry when it doesn't).
"You
don't write about me these days. My friends have noticed it
and have started talking about it behind my back."
"Then
they aren't your friends. But that shouldn't bother you. We'll
find you better friends." I was still distracted. Wake
up, mini-kiddy, will you? Show some signs of life, please…
"You
don't get it. I want to know. Have I stopped mattering to
you?" The Hubby droned on.
Damn!
Now that's enough. Can't you see my bulge, I thought. I wanted
to scream out loud, jolt him out of his self-pity and tell
him that the only thing that matters in my life these days
is to have this baby inside out as soon as possible. I want
to be able to breathe properly, for heaven's sake. But then
men, will they ever understand? Talk of preparing my child
for this second baby!
"What
happened? Why don't you say something? See what I mean? You
don't even want to talk to me these days…" he prodded.
If it
was meant to be a test of my patience, I didn't care if I
fared badly. "What does you mattering to me have anything
to do with my writings? And besides, why don't your friends
have the decency to come and ask me directly? Straight from
the horse's mouth, eh? That'll save them plenty of speculation."
"Maybe
because you come across as this grouchy whining middle-aged
woman ever ready to pounce on harmless souls like us."
I couldn't believe my ears! I hate to explode like this, but
he left me with no option.
"What
was that? Come again? Now I think that's enough. You want
to know why I don't want to talk to you these days? Because
you vex me by forgetting that I may not be in the best of
moods at all times, and continue fighting with me and driving
me mad." I said it, I spat it out friends, and suddenly
felt lighter. I reckon I could have felt even better had I
screamed out an even louder cathartic out-pouring, but I had
missed my chance.
I knew
well that this was bound to precipitate a big show down, but
what the heck? Just that very moment, I felt a massive blow
to the insides of my belly for the first time in five hours,
and I flopped there on the chair easing out and spreading
myself relaxed. All was well, and I no longer needed to make
that frantic call to my doc. Nothing else mattered now. All
I remember is drifting away to sleep amid The Hubby's tirade.
And sleeping well.
***
His
Story: The Hubby Speaks
I don't understand The Wifey. I'm sure none of us men can
ever understand women. What cheers them, what makes them blow
their lid off, what cools them. And in the middle of all the
cribs of not being able to sleep at all, suddenly starting
to snore when I am sorting out important relationship matters
with her. Simply outrageous! Just look at what happened this
morning. I teased her with some innocuous statement asking
why she has made me an outcast in her pieces. Within seconds,
she was livid, and was lambasting my friends for sins they
have not committed.
She kept
saying, "Don't you realise I am tense?" And I kept
reassuring her, "Don't worry. My baby is a toughie like
me; it's probably sensed your mood and is lying low, scared
even to move."
She complained
I was behaving like a typical man. Was she trying to be funny?
I mean, what has happened to her sense of humour? I have a
feeling women come into this world without any, and leave
the world bereft of even that little sense they were born
with. Humour is totally out of the question. No wonder there
are such few stand-up female comedians in the world.
Completely
out of the blue, she alleges that I fight with her. I am speechless.
Fight? Me? Isn't she the one to start any fight? Don't all
women crave confrontations for their personal entertainment?
And, as with everything else that I want to point out to her
these days, it finally boils down to her given state of pregnancy.
Don't
misunderstand me friends, I am not being insensitive here
and I am not mocking her, but she has started behaving like
a bit of a nag. All I can hear all day is, "when will
this be over" or "I am sick of this" and so
on. I said I understood her discomfort (to which she howled
saying no, you can't), but it's not as if she's the first
woman in this state, or that this is the first time it is
happening to her. My mother also gave birth to me. I don't
remember her behaving this queer.
And what
is this? She'll smile and act perfectly normal when she's
with others; where are her aches and pains then? But the moment
we are together, she blows hot. When I confront her with it,
she says she can't be impolite before others. And can you
believe she slept mid-way through all our discussions this
morning, just in order to spite me?
Which
is why I get this feeling she doesn't love me anymore. Maybe,
just maybe, that is why she has stopped mentioning me on her
pages. Was I wrong in asking her this then? I leave it to
you to decide friends…
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