When a desi guy gets married he loses one identity and gains another. In between these two states though, for a brief period of time, is a state of vacuum. There is, on one hand, a stupid notion that he will not change... ever. Then, on the other hand, I have five fingers. Groucho Marx - stop it. Then, on the other hand, he is in fact being beaten up like a barrel full of grapes to produce the w(h)ine of life. This is a state none too different from that of zombies - neither dead nor alive - or bats - neither bird nor mammal. This is the period of time where he continues to fill forms and marks his marital status as single then scratches it and then marks it as married and feels guilty unsure of what he is guilty for. He cannot for the life of him, utter a conscious sentence that includes the word wife. The toughest is when accidentally he does blurt out - "I will have to check with my wife". Oh dear God - the cover up for that misquote is even worse than the actual quote. The only people who sneer at him for this quote will be his bachelor friends. Their approval still ranks highest in his psyche. So, there he is making forced jokes such as "of course, the wife is the boss... hee hee". Pathetic.
Once in a while, a moment of sheer madness forces him to accept a movie invite without consulting his wife. He then makes elaborate plans to
1) slip this movie plan in his wife's schedule
2) blame a bachelor friend into forcing this movie plan on him
3) suggest that the bachelor friend bought tickets without consulting him
The plans falter in the following steps
4) go to the movie theater
5) stutter while explaining why they are buying the tickets only now
6) sit through the movie going though various scenarios that can erupt once they are back home
The awkwardness reaches new levels during social occasions. Baby showers - he is there among kids and married men with kids - his nemesis from the recent past. The only question he has for kids is "What is your name?". The only question he has for the married men is "What is your kid's name?". From then on it is a continuous lecture of self motivation - all in his head of course.
Even this shall pass.
Just two more hours and I can get out of here.
No one will make eye contact with me.
Followed by self doubt.
Where is the restroom?
I should have never come here.
What is this function - no baby and certainly no shower.
What is my name?
Yet, the cocoon does break and a butterfly does spread its wings. No one can pin point the exact day this happens. He makes her happy by surprising her with flowers. He cracks a joke that makes kids at a birthday party squeal with laughter. He discusses bank interest rates with their dads. He even compliments a couple of the moms in the party. An alien in his own world he ceases to be. He, the idiot that he is, now sniggers when a newly married nincompoop asks him the name of his kid.
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