Two Reasons

Life was not fair. Period. She knew it. She accepted it. Nevertheless, what was happening in her life was something she did not plan for. She was stressed out. Her life had turned into a circus. Juggling between work and household chores, she felt herself being reduced to smithereens.

The cleaning, dusting, washing, cooking and ironing took up all her time at home. The one-and-a-half hours travelling to, another one-and-a-half hours travelling back, and the lousy nine hours at office made up the rest. She took a deep sip of the cocktail she had specially prepared. The cocktail was vodka and orange juice with a pinch of mint leaves. She wanted to do bottoms up of the cocktail and beat him up black blue.

Then she decided against it. Two reasons:

1. She was half his size. In height and weight. Alcohol or no alcohol, he would probably make a ball out of her and roll her into a corner.

(Just like what tom does to jerry. Hic. Hic)

2. With bottoms up, she would not even be able to sit, let alone stand up against him.

Therefore, she decided against it and rehearsed her arguments.

She wanted more attention from him, in not just listening to her but also sharing her work. It is not that he did not help. He did. She was not happy with the results. Like the other day, when she had to mop the entire kitchen floor which was flooded after his “help” in washing up the dishes. The net effect was even though he claimed to be a helping husband, she ended up doing most things.

Tears brimmed. May be one should call one’s mother during marital crisis. Then again, she decided against it for two reasons:

1) Amma would venture into a monotonous repertoire where she will remind this wretched soul about how Amma had struggled with Acha who never helped her in anything. (That was true. Acha was almost useless when it came to household helps). Amma would go onto say “life is like that. That’s how I lived” with every pause.

She would have to remind Amma that she (Amma) was a housewife err homemaker when she (Amma) was married and could afford a husband who never helped her (Amma) in any way.

2) We would end up fighting, as always. Period. (Most moms and daughters are like that. At least as long as moms would think they know better.)

So her conscience and she, heart and brain, unanimously vetoed about calling Amma and pouring her soul out. Both said she would rather pour it to a pan of boiling oil and come out less scathed.

The vodka had sufficiently cooled her nerves. May be she was being hard on him, she thought.He,a poor Indian male, brought up with strict notions of getting a wife who’ll wait at the door decked up like a “Devi” every evening for her husband. Now he thanks his stars if she does not appear in the manifestation of kaali, in complete gear – broom, kadai and spatula included.

At least he helps.Tries.Yes one should give points for the effort.So she decides to pardon him for all the heart burn for two reasons

1. Yes, he takes an effort in cleaning and sprucing up the place, even if it ends up looking like the scrapbook of a kindergarten student. Doesn’t it make him adorable? 4.75/5

2. He is willing to help. Even if it takes time, may be in another six-seven years he might actually learn. Marriage is not about short-term achievements, she realizes. It is about long-term routines and patterns. (Wah-Wah, now the vodka is talking)

She felt that life is ruled by a “two-reasons” law. As long as you have two reasons, it does not matter. Thinking about the newfound theory, she felt good about herself and the way she was solving her problems.

When the doorbell rings, She opens the door, smiling. For two reasons…

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