Henpecking In Captivity

Braving the lockdown with your spouse.

So very often I wonder, how have I survived thirty-nine years of marital bliss without killing my spouse?

Honestly, I have come very close to it. Yet, since both of us spent hours away from each other, at work, space provided him safety.

My friends, who would relate more horrifying, irksome quirks about their husbands, made me realize that I was indeed fortunate and needed to refrain from the heinous crime.

By the time we met in the evenings after work, I would feel quite benevolent, less murderous, and even thankful that my husband was the way he was.

These last three months of lockdown, thanks to the constant companionship, I find myself losing patience and fearsome of turning into “Lady Macbeth.”

As a teacher by profession, I am adept at using different approaches to tackle problems. Love, empathy, strictness, repetition, nothing gets the desired results as it did with my students.

Husbands can be amazing companions for short periods. Like Khalil Gibran said, “ let there be spaces in your togetherness”. Wise words, but he did not anticipate or foresee the Pandemic.

Each morning, I wake up to the usual refrain of stop lazing in bed, do some stretches, how yoga will keep me fit, and how I need to get out of bed and watch fitness channels. After thirty-nine years of matrimony he has not realized, the more he insists, the less likely am I of following his instructions.

At sixty plus I have a mind and body of my own, well aware of what works for me, the timings my body will be responsive and ready for exercise.

We have grown old together, yet he has not been able to make me his clone, in all these years. He just doesn’t give up or realize he has no chance of success. I grit my teeth and ignore him, going about doing exactly what I want to do.

This little mutiny, is a part of our daily routine, so far so good. There are no casualties, no court-martial (read marital)

In the initial days of the Pandemic, I struggled with his newfound love affair with his mobile. He spent hours on what app groups, reading all the forwards on COVID 19. I truly believe, he felt the time he spent reading, discussing, analyzing with the various groups were crucial to saving humanity and the world.

Endless dietary changes were made to build up our immunity, and everything was forced down my gullet as he claimed I had no immunity.

I suddenly saw his spike of interest in the kitchen and what was cooking. While eating lunch, discussions on what the menu for dinner would drive me mad and wonder if we live to eat.

Over the years, I have tried hard to fight obesity and become half as fit as him. Now that we have all our meals together, I succumbed to the temptation of eating like him, not refraining from dessert and chocolates.

Unable to match his exercising ability, I now have to contend with a few more kilos. I watch him dig into chocolates enviously, cursing my stars at the unfairness and blaming it all on my slow metabolic rate.

While I have the metabolic rate of an eighty-five-year-old, he is blessed with a thirty-seven-year-old’s, if machines are to be believed.

Even after thirty-nine years of marriage, he still tries to fool me by using a steel glass to camouflage his drink. I am always told it is water, that he is drinking, until I ask for a sip which in return gets me a smile, that has saved him from a gruesome death at my hands!

While we are sitting together, he has nothing much to say to me. The moment I leave the room, I hear him yelling out, and I always wonder if this is intentional?

Small irritants that went unnoticed previously, now stare me in my face. How come he never switches off the tv, AC or lights, draws out his dining chair but never the reverse on completion of a meal?

Why are his books and glasses scattered all over, and bits of post-it notes, which must stay where they are or else all heavens will fall?

Why is it that he needs to talk to me while I am engrossed in Netflix?

Why does he always choose to enter the room, just as it is being mopped and not understand the need to let the floor dry?

Like every coin has two sides, I am sure he has his version. I know he thinks, I am responsible for the lockdown as I always grudged the long hours he devoted to golf and I willed this to happen. Anything to keep him away from his beloved golf.

All my life, I wanted to spend uninterrupted quality time with my husband. The lockdown has more than satisfied my craving, and now I am praying that it comes to an end.

Excesses are harmful, too much of anything they say is bad for you. Wicked thoughts that I have nurtured these last few months must be replaced by dreams of togetherness, and the ying and yang of our personalities must be accepted and celebrated.

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