Where Love Has Gone ???

[canadian]

Where love has gone
BY BIKRAM VOHRA (LAST WORD)

1 April 2011,
When men and women court each other they are blinded by each ones dazzle. Even the sound of her gargling or his snoring has a certain cadence to it. Indeed, all their little idiosyncrasies are cute and delightful.

She loves the way he hits his fist against his temple when he is making decisions, reminds her of Rodin the thinker. And, of course he has an aquiline nose and a granite jaw, whatever all that means and he has such a delightful sense 
of humour.
He is swept off his feet by her sparrow-like cocking of the head to the right and trilling liquidly, her laugh like the sound of a crisply flowing brook. So he says. Her eyes are like stars in the sky and when she speaks the daffodils sway in the breeze. All good stuff and perfectly valid until the wedding day. And then comes the chill of realisation. This is forever. No tender goodbyes on the doorstep. Neither is going home. This is one long unending date.
After a few years together when marital excitement simmers down to oboy, oboy, were invited out to dinner Wednesday, what a break from staring at each other the flow of the brook gets more than a bit bogged down. The trill of her laughter becomes a for heavens sake why cant you laugh like normal people?
And she says you touch your temple one more time I swear Ill clout you, its driving me crazy, its a ghastly habit, youre so yucky.
Where does all the cuteness go and why is it that all the traits which drove us to desperate distraction, happy spending, desertion of friends and family, the writing of poetry and undying paeans of devotion now only drive couples up the wall? No wonder then that somewhere down the line when the children are growing and the houseboys security pin is not loose for burning your expensive jeans and no one has offered him Dh200 extra to dump you, husbands and wives begin to locate positive virtues in other people, much to the mystification of their respective partners.
Example: End of pleasant evening. Couple are returning home.
He: What are you thinking about, you look distant, remote, far away.
She: Actually now that you ask, Ive just been thinking, I wish youd dress a little better, like Ram, he looks so smart, trendy, you were wearing brown socks with black shoes, thats embarrassing!!
Whats with you, its past midnight and youre onto the colour of 
my socks?
No, I just feel you need to smarten up a lot more, be more noticeable.
You liked Ram, huh?
No, its not that, its just that wives like their husbands to look good, stop being so defensive.
It could be intellectual. Shell say, Ahmed has so much charm.
Huh.
I said Ahmed has charm, his manners are impeccable (inference is yours are limited).
Which Ahmed?
The one in the bank. Some girl will be lucky to get him (never mind the inference now). Hes so well read.
It can be financial. Do you know, the Bhagats have put a first down payment on their house and in the Palms, at that?
Thats nice.
Makes sense, wish we were more organised, how come we cant even begin to think about buying property, shouldnt you start worrying about the future, we are not getting any younger.
It could be physical.
Isnt Robert good looking, suave, great company?
Youre kidding.
Youre jealous, just because hes got pizzazz and style.
Who, Robert, ha ha ha, Robert, you women are something.
Let me tell you something sobering mister, no one says that about you.
See what I mean. Ah, for the days of tinkling laughter and granite jaws and splashes of adoration, when her eyes were like liquid pools and even if Tendulkar was on 99 she could tickle your ear, your hair endearingly ruffled and tousled, not unruly and messy. Gone, forever.(http://www.khaleejtimes.com/Display...2011/April/weekend_April2.xml&section=weekend)

 

[canadian]

When wives don’t appreciate husbands
Bikram Vohra (Between the lines)

2 April 2011, 9:22 PM
Let me tell you something. Wives don’t appreciate husbands being at home.
Oh, they might act like it is wonderful that you have these two months off and isn’t it super but you’re really in the way and a bit of a menace. Even the kids think it is okay one day a week but all the time, come on, give us a break, go back to work.
I learnt from experience.
Some years ago when I gave up my job I also gave up the maid and the houseboy (their visas getting stamped for the sins of their employer) and we decided as a family to run the show ourselves.
Three weeks into this condition and allowing my wife to enjoy a well earned rest she said, you know what, you have become a nag and a complete nuisance, why don’t you travel, or better still, get a job again, a real one.
Nag, I said, me, a nag, are you kidding, that is pure ingratitude, here I am, cleaning and polishing and dusting and scouring and not a word of appreciation, don’t put that cup on the table, you’ll leave a ring; do you know how tough it is to get rid of the stains, doesn’t anybody care and please, please don’t crush the cushions, they take hours to fluff.
There, she said, you’re doing it again, you were much nicer when you had a job.
That’s not nice, I said, that’s not nice at all.
It is too, said the girls, you’ve become a real drag, grumble, grumble all the time.
I could have lazed in the sun. Toned up my squash. Reread bestsellers. Gone partying. Did I? No, I did not. Instead, like a good father and husband, I armed myself with cloth and mop and turned housework into an art form. That’s the point you see, no one appreciates it.
You have the zeal of the new convert, says my wife, you’re becoming embarrassing.
That’s because the other night I joined some wives in a fascinating debate on stain removers and how lime had 101applications. I bet you didn’t know that, hah.
Also, I have been cutting out ‘Household hints’ columns from the magazines and did you know that you can take out chewing gum from the carpet by running ice cubes over it.
My friend is going through it now. He is changing jobs so he’s been home for a month and it is driving his family up the wall.
He tells me they are all so unappreciative. I slog all day, putting things right, he says, all spaniel sad, and they just come and wreck it all.
His kids came home and kicked off their shoes and socks. Don’t kick off your shoes and socks, he said, I’ve been at it all morning, show some consideration and who left the wet towel on the floor?
Wife and children exchanged that uh, oh, he’s starting already.
You don’t have to look at each other like that, he said, it took me half an hour to put your cupboard in order, why can’t you take your clothes out without messing up the piles.
Children, said his wife, go on, off you go for a bath.
A bath, he said, now?
Yes, she said, now.
But I just finished cleaning the bathroom, he said.
So, what’s that got to do with it, she said, what’s got in to you?
Nothing got into me, he said, it’s just so unreasonable, I’ve just scrubbed the tub and sprayed air freshener and wiped the soap dishes and while we are on the subject, how many times have I told you all to put the lids back on the paste and shampoos, doesn’t anybody care?
They don’t, I told him, they just don’t, that is the way life is.
Watch it, he said, you’re putting fingerprints on the table edge and please don’t scuff the carpet, it’s hell getting it straight again and I am sick and tired of putting all the DVDs back in their covers and the least courtesy I expect is that if you take out the ice tray you put it back with water in the spaces, right, is that asking too much?
No, I said, wives just don’t appreciate it.
Tell me, he said, wouldn’t you be upset if the silver is polished every third day, can’t you see, it’s all bright and shiny because I do that.
I am not your wife, I said.
Bikram Vohra is Khaleej Times Editorial Advisor. Write to him at [email protected]