FunnyColumns

Ten years and still getting to know each other

My wife, Malathi, and I recently celebrated our 10th anniversary. Yes, it’s been a whole decade since we  got married, a whole decade since we stood in front of family and friends, looked into each other’s eyes and thought, “Who is this person?”

We hardly knew each other back then, having met through a matrimonial ad on the internet. But after spending 10 years together and producing three children, one thing is clear: we still don’t know each other.

If we knew each other, she wouldn’t get annoyed whenever she finds me on the couch on a Sunday afternoon, as though I have any control whatsoever over the schedule of the National Football League.

If we knew each other, I wouldn’t have waited patiently for her outside the clothing store in the mall -- I would have rented a tow truck with a hook and chain to pull her out.

Despite not knowing each other, we’ve somehow managed to stay married for 10 years. That may not seem like a long time to some of our friends -- a few have been married 25 years or more -- but for Malathi and I, it’s amazing that we’re still together and even more amazing that we still occasionally talk to each other.

In fact, you’ll be glad to know that we spoke to each other just last month. I said, “Our anniversary is coming up. How do you want to celebrate it?” And she said, “I’d like to try the new Japanese restaurant in town. Do you want me to bring something home for you?” (That’s what I love about her -- she’s so thoughtful.)

Actually, Malathi and I talk to each other quite a lot -- whenever the kids let us. The kids are 4, 6 and 8, and at any given time one of them is speaking, one of them is singing and one of them is screaming. It’s hard to have a conversation when they’re around, especially since they don’t like to see Mommy and Daddy getting too affectionate. We usually have to speak in code -- a special code that develops naturally during a marriage. Whenever Malathi wants to say “I love you,” she says, “Are you watching that stupid football game again?” And whenever I want to say “I love you,” I say, “How many pairs of shoes do you need anyway?” The kids don’t realize it, but we’re a very romantic couple.

Our relationship has evolved and matured over the years. We’re even able to communicate without saying a word to each other. For example, if I’m on the couch watching a football game and a pumpkin lands on my head, I know that Malathi needs help in the kitchen.

All relationships change over time, and it’s important to adapt to the changes. Just look at what I’ve adapted to from “then” to “now.”

Then: Leaves romantic “I need you like I need food and water” note on the dining table.
Now: Leaves frantic “I need you to buy some food and water” note on the dining table.

Then: Offers to make tea in the evening.
Now: Shouts “Where’s my tea?” while checking Facebook.

Then: Gives compliments such as “You’re so sweet! Take a bow.”
Now: Gives advice such as “You’re so sweaty! Take a bath.”

Then: Finishes my sentences without thinking.
Now: Finishes my sandwiches without thinking. 

Actually, the last one isn’t completely true. She still occasionally finishes my sentences. Just the other day, I said, “How many pairs of shoes ...” and she said, “would my husband like to dodge on a Sunday afternoon?”

That’s a special code, of course. 

She means the world to me, too.

Cartoon by Mahendra Shah

Melvin Durai's humourous novel "Bala Takes the Plunge" is available at major bookstores in India and Sri Lanka or online at FlipKart, IndiaPlaza, FriendsofBooks or other sites.

Column: The key to a happy marriage: hiring a private detective

When youngsters ask me for career advice, I tell them to drop whatever they're doing and become private detectives. They'd never run out of clients, especially if they specialize in marriage-related investigations (MRIs).

While the other kind of MRI (magnetic resonance imaging) helps you find out what's wrong with your body, this kind of MRI helps you find out what's wrong with your spouse.

It's increasingly common, in America and other western countries, for married people to hire private detectives to find out if their spouses are being unfaithful.

Detective: "Yes, Mrs. Spitzer, your husband is definitely cheating on you. I got word that he had booked a room at the Ritz-Carlton, so I rushed over there and, 15 minutes later, an attractive young blonde walked out wearing high heels, fishnet stockings and an inviting smile."

Mrs. Spitzer: "What about my husband? When did he leave?"

Detective: "I'm not sure. I went with the blonde into another room. I had to dust her for fingerprints."

In India, people are, seemingly, a little smarter. They hire the private detective BEFORE the wedding. Pre-wedding investigations are so common these days that a man isn't considered an eligible bachelor unless he has several detectives following him around.

Private detectives are usually hired to verify claims made by a prospective bride or groom or their parents. These claims often appear in matrimonial ads, which are sometimes so full of lies and exaggerations, they sound like political speeches. "If you choose me, your life will improve dramatically. Trust me, I am the best man for the job. I will be ready on Day One to satisfy you. I'll balance our budget (I have an MBA from Wharton), I'll improve our healthcare (I have an MD from Harvard) and I'll protect us from anyone who might try to harm us (I have a black belt from Lee's Gym). Forget about the other guys. They aren't as qualified as I am -- and they have too much experience. I've never even looked at a woman. I've been saving myself for you, waiting for you to walk into my life. I'm ready to sweep you off your feet. I'll entrance you like Hrithik Roshan, romance you like Shahrukh Khan, finance you like Mukesh Ambani."

Column: An elevator ride that's lasted eight years

My wife and I just celebrated our 8th wedding anniversary and let me tell you, I haven't been this happy since my dentist announced his retirement. We made it past seven years! Our marriage didn't fall victim to the dreaded seven-year itch, which has broken up more relationships than Jack Daniel's and Johnnie Walker combined. (Trust me, it's not a good idea to combine them.)

Some of you, I know, have been married for more than 50 years and are obviously unimpressed. If you're a man, you're probably saying to yourself, "Eight years is no big deal. I've been married so long, I've spent a total of eight years just waiting for my wife to get out of the bathroom." If you're a woman, you're probably saying to yourself, "Eight years! That's how long it took my husband to figure out the hooks on my bra."

Well, here's a confession: I'm still trying to figure out a lot of things. For example:

1. When a woman looks at her wardrobe and complains that she has "nothing at all to wear," does she really expect her husband to be concerned about the prospect of her wearing nothing at all?

2. When a woman talks to you during a football game, is it better to just nod your head and pretend you're listening or say something polite such as, "I don't mind if you talk during the game, dear, but please don't expect me to take the cotton balls out of my ears."

3. In which of these situations is it reasonable to say 'no' to a woman? (a) When she asks you to go to a department store to pick up a feminine hygiene product; (b) when she enters a fitting room in a department store and asks you to hold her handbag; or (c) when she enters a fitting room and asks you to pick up a feminine hygiene product while holding her handbag.

Don't look down on this proposal

There are many ways to propose to a woman, some more creative than others. I hid the engagement ring in a shell that Malathi found at the beach. Yeah, I know: Not very original. Joel Doerksen of Manitoba, Canada, did much better. He spent several hours using a cultivator to carve the words "Christine, will you marry me?" into a field on his family farm, making each letter 210 feet long. Then he took his girlfriend, Christine Ginter, for a plane ride over the field. How did she respond? She took him to a field on her family farm where she had carved the words "Not if you're the last man alive."

Actually, she said, "Yes!" And so did about 100 other Christines who happened to fly past the field that day. Every man in Manitoba who had a girlfriend named Christine grabbed the opportunity to be considered romantic. At least that's what I'm guessing. Wouldn't it be a pity, after all, if Joel's hard work and creativity were enjoyed by just one woman?

Time to work on that upper face

Having trouble attracting women? Here's some advice: Put your head in a vise. With a compressed upper face, you'll have to beat off the women with a stick.

A recent study of the skulls of human ancestors and modern humans finds that women, and thereby, evolution, selected for males with relatively short upper faces. The region between the brow and the upper-lip is scrunched proportionately to the overall size of their heads.

Among the men who fit the bill: Will Smith and Brad Pitt.

In a past study, researchers found a similar facial pattern in chimpanzees, with males having relatively shorter and broader faces compared with females, controlling for body size. [Link]

Ah, that explains why my wife has no picture of me on the wall, but a rather large one of a chimp.

I can just see it now: Somebody's going to be selling a facial scrunching exercise video: "Guys, do you want to be more attractive to women? Let me show you how. It takes only five minutes a day. Just stand in front of a mirror and try to touch your eyebrows with your upper lip. Trust me, it has worked for Will Smith, Brad Pitt and Chippy the Chimpanzee -- and it can work for you too."

If your marriage fails, don't hang out

What happens if your marriage goes sour but you can't afford to move into a place of your own? It's not a question I ponder often, but two recent stories have made me think about it. Steven Graham, a 55-year-old man in Pittsburg, Kansas, has been living in his car for seven years, much to his neighbors dismay.

“Every day he’s out there, he never goes into the house,” Kenny Waring said. “He sleeps out there, he eats out there, he watches TV, he plays guitar... . Everything that you do in your house, he does out there.”

Graham acknowledged that he does watch TV, listens to music and at times sleeps in the vehicle year-round, but stopped short of saying he lived in it.

“I’m living anywhere I’m at,” he said, pointing to the chair he was sitting in outside the home. “I’m living right here, right now.”

The car, a blue 1989 Buick Century, is parked on a concrete slab in the back yard of Graham’s property. A large, blue tarp covers about three-quarters of the vehicle, including the entire back window and license plate. The tarp is secured with bricks and cinder blocks.

An extension cord runs from the house to the car, providing power for a 13-inch TV that rests in the passenger seat, an oscillating fan and a radio. [Link]

A car, a TV and a radio. What more does a man need to be happy?