A good friend pings.

“How is…marriage like?”

“Hello to you to too.”

“Hehe. So what changed?”

The work day has ended, I’m waiting for the samosa guy to come. I can do this. I can hash together a summary.

“Settle down kiddo, we have a long day ahead.” *lights a cigar*.


It’s….Effing. Frustrating.

There will be times when you look at the other person and lovingly scream, “IT WAS YOUR TURN TO DO THE DISHES YOU HALF-WITTED OAF!”

But the next moment you’re discussing whether to eat leftover Aloogobi or fuck it, let’s Swiggy and re-run Game of Thrones. There’s no Nextflix and chill anymore, because marriage has no chill.

You know what’s worse? If you’re marrying someone who you’ve known long. No, seriously.

When you’re in an arranged setup, the first few months are all about glorious discovery. “Oooh, he has a funny sneeze.” “Wow, weird toenails.” Small differences are brushed aside, no argument will start with you-were-never-like-this.

When you’ve known each other far too long, there is nothing left to discover but the worst bits – the bits that come with cohabitation. The perfect human being you wanted to sign your life over to, burps too loud. Watches cricket like a brain-dead zombie. Takes one hour to poop. Puts wet towels on the bed. Your mom likes him more.

And then, maybe around the 3rd month, and the 6th edition of “I WILL ANNUL THIS MARRIAGE SO HELP ME GOD”, you sort of ….sink in to routine.
It starts to feels weird to not have them around. And that makes you feel even more weird. You know your favorite shirt – the one you reach for without thinking? You tend to speak less, and start to sync thoughts. Maybe that’s why married couples are perceived as boring. In public, you might not hear them talk a lot – because everything is sort of..understood. Somewhere behind the silent faces of a couple you see at the McD, I now see a whirlwind of shopping lists, laundry lists, you-used-to-kiss-me-everyday-in-college rants, sudden hugs, burnt dishes, silent solidarity at random relative meets, pointless arguments, and late-night chocolate binges.

It’s routine.

I was talking to two happily single friends yesterday who summed up that Marriage is Ugh, like buying a coffee machine and grinding beans every day instead of walking down to a CCD. I couldn’t agree more, truth be told. Anyone who tells you they don’t miss their khulla saand-ness, is a big fat liar.

But sometimes, sometimes it’s relaxing to know that coffee, just the way I like it, is RIGHT there when I want it.

And all I need to do, is lean over.


One thought on “Co-habitation.

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