We’ve been married nearly a decade and half. It takes a lot from both of us to be not just tolerating each other but trying hard not to kill. Me more than him. And I am not one of those who is able to say that what I have with my husband cannot be expressed in words. I definitely can in so many words that won’t seem pleasant to many ears. Since it is Valentine’s day, I might as well share how blissful it has been putting up with each other’s idiocies. I’m sure something’s working just fine in our marriage.
He calls it an internet marriage and I call it arranged marriage. That is the only thing we seem to agree upon – not call ours a love marriage. Not sure what perception we give, but a visiting second cousin asked me to my face in my own place, if I was willingly staying in my marriage. It is another story that he can’t seem to remember any birthday, wedding anniversary, or when we first met or what I wore to our first rendezvous. Nope, I ain’t calling that a date.
My husband does have a doe-eye when he is one beer down but I think he generally has that twinkle agnostic of the gender of who ever is in front of him at that time. Now, how could I ever prove to anyone what kind of love we truly have for each other is when we barely whisper sweet nothings in each other’s ears or exude public display of affection. But I can say with great conviction that out marriage is definitely bound by the thoughtful ‘gifts’ we give each other. February 14th, being one of them.
I’ve never given my husband any gifts that are useful just for him. The most romantic I’ve done is mention his name in my books as thank you. But we’ve always bought stuff useful for the home and both of us. For example, he will build computers making sure we have terabytes of virtual real estate whether I use it or not and I clean his desk much to his yelp and give him boxes of lysol wipes. Never did we ever gage the value of the gifts we gave other. It is always the thought that counts.
Ahead of this year’s Valentine’s day, my husband brought me two things of the same kind. And was mighty proud for what he thought was the best of gifts. He also brought them in my favorite florescent and rustic colors. Their texture was exactly how I’ve always wanted and most effective in their use. Also, he ensured that they were easy on my hands. If that is not what takes for an amazing marriage, I am not sure what is truer than true anymore.
What makes our marriage work is the epitome of weirdness of our gifts. No, they are not exotic flowers or branded clothes but a pledge for a forever clean home. A pair of brooms. “We’re all a little weird. And life is a little weird. And when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall into mutually satisfying weirdness–and call it love–true love.” ~ Robert Fulgham. By the way, I got flowers too after I kept saying, “Happy Valentine’s Day” each time I used the brooms, which is many times more than any man can withstand.