The first 100 days of marriage
'How's married life treating you?' It's a question I haven't been able to answer in the last couple of months. Not because it's still early days, or anything such, but because we still haven't got the taste of it just as yet. If things went to plan, we would've been in Bangalore checking things off our to-do list and got a sense of what our every day may have looked like. Courtesy, COVID-19, we've been at my in-laws' place for a period we didn't anticipate. That though, in a lot of ways, has been nothing short of an extended vacation for me.
I don't wake up every morning with thoughts of breakfast, lunch and dinner. The layer of dust on the kitchen counter doesn't beckon me every single time I sit down to watch Netflix. I don't need to cut vegetables, pick spices, and multi-task in the kitchen, catering to my fussy taste buds. The dishes sink is on a break, as are my frayed hands. I don't need to worry about replenished supplies. Or walk to the store to fetch vegetables. I don't have to wash and change household linen or dry washed ones and fold after them. I don't have to sweep and mop or dust every corner of the house to fuel my OCDs.
Instead, it's probably after ages that I've watched a number of TV shows without n number of distractions sparked by the need to multi-task. It's the first time after leaving home in 2013 that I've not had to plan my day or week or month, because lockdown isn't offering a breather.
We excessively indulged in Ludo, sharpened skills on the carrom board and learned the hacks of winning at Othello. We binge-watched Prison Break and Homeland and I sat wondering by the end how I'd never watched them before. We ran through dumb charades, 7 of hearts and random TV shows with no revisiting. I nursed aching fingers used to blend those oil pastels into scenic discoveries, ranted rapidly into my little blue Lego diary, attempted to get cracking on Love in the time of Cholera and explored an online course.
I've had more time to myself than I have in the last seven years of living alone. The only difference really is living with people - something I have lost touch of. However, that's perhaps the saving grace of the lockdown and this time together. It's not just been about getting to know each other, but getting to know each other better; quirks, true colours and more. It's been about taking a step back in this fast-paced reality to stay still and observe.
What is my mind screaming when it's at its frayed end of boredom? What face of mine is my restless mind driving when forced out of its comfort zone to mindfulness?
It's been exactly 100 days today since that bright, sunny morning in February that we were wedded. It was as close to perfect as it could get, surrounded by our beloved friends and family alike. Since then, it's been quite different from what Rohan and I imagined. We had so many things to do once he moved to Bangalore. Two-and-a-half months later, we're still right there, stuck in limbo, but clear as hell about one thing. Unpredictability, is the name of the game, in marriage or life. All we need to do is brave through it together.
It's been a milestone of reaching that maiden century in some sense. And while we celebrate that, the only thing at the back of my unquiet mind is the condition of my fridge when I finally get home. Those four tomatoes left behind. The extent of their rot. And the task of cleaning after.
I don't wake up every morning with thoughts of breakfast, lunch and dinner. The layer of dust on the kitchen counter doesn't beckon me every single time I sit down to watch Netflix. I don't need to cut vegetables, pick spices, and multi-task in the kitchen, catering to my fussy taste buds. The dishes sink is on a break, as are my frayed hands. I don't need to worry about replenished supplies. Or walk to the store to fetch vegetables. I don't have to wash and change household linen or dry washed ones and fold after them. I don't have to sweep and mop or dust every corner of the house to fuel my OCDs.
Instead, it's probably after ages that I've watched a number of TV shows without n number of distractions sparked by the need to multi-task. It's the first time after leaving home in 2013 that I've not had to plan my day or week or month, because lockdown isn't offering a breather.
We excessively indulged in Ludo, sharpened skills on the carrom board and learned the hacks of winning at Othello. We binge-watched Prison Break and Homeland and I sat wondering by the end how I'd never watched them before. We ran through dumb charades, 7 of hearts and random TV shows with no revisiting. I nursed aching fingers used to blend those oil pastels into scenic discoveries, ranted rapidly into my little blue Lego diary, attempted to get cracking on Love in the time of Cholera and explored an online course.
I've had more time to myself than I have in the last seven years of living alone. The only difference really is living with people - something I have lost touch of. However, that's perhaps the saving grace of the lockdown and this time together. It's not just been about getting to know each other, but getting to know each other better; quirks, true colours and more. It's been about taking a step back in this fast-paced reality to stay still and observe.
What is my mind screaming when it's at its frayed end of boredom? What face of mine is my restless mind driving when forced out of its comfort zone to mindfulness?
It's been exactly 100 days today since that bright, sunny morning in February that we were wedded. It was as close to perfect as it could get, surrounded by our beloved friends and family alike. Since then, it's been quite different from what Rohan and I imagined. We had so many things to do once he moved to Bangalore. Two-and-a-half months later, we're still right there, stuck in limbo, but clear as hell about one thing. Unpredictability, is the name of the game, in marriage or life. All we need to do is brave through it together.
It's been a milestone of reaching that maiden century in some sense. And while we celebrate that, the only thing at the back of my unquiet mind is the condition of my fridge when I finally get home. Those four tomatoes left behind. The extent of their rot. And the task of cleaning after.
Beautifully penned! Enjoyed reading it.
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