Sunday : A Bombay Menace

It's true when they say that love stories reach a natural end when a relationship turns into a marriage. When you enter a marriage, while everyone around you keeps giving you unasked advice and even warnings to think before you act, you listen to your heart and you jump into it. And then life gets real.

Yes it's great waking up next to your partner. Yes, it's great having someone to hold. It's great sharing gossip with your new roommate. It's great meeting new people via him (not always though!). But there is so much more to marriage than this. What about the bathroom? What about the pressure of feeding him every single day? What about feeling guilty for basically not wanting to decide what tonight's meal is going to be? What about the pressure of keeping a relation alive? What about the expectation of being accommodative so your partner can also feel at home?

We do most of this acceptingly and sometimes unknowingly. But as time passes, we change and they change. Routines get established and life enters a rut. Now there is pressure to plan a date night, pressure to have a child, pressure of being capable of having children, pressure of giving space to each other and pressure of spending enough time with each other without reaching an argument.

None of this is easy and none of this happens without noise. Marriage is HARD. And anyone telling you otherwise is lying. I am almost going to enter the 5th year of marriage and every single day, some days more than others, i wonder, how much longer are we going to make it.

Today was a Sunday. Since the start of our marriage Sundays have been problematic. So much so, that in the year 1 of marriage, I almost wanted Sunday to be deleted from the days of the week. Sundays would mean spending time alone in the house when he would be chilling with his friends , playing cricket or Sundays would mean spending time with his mother who has decided to make way to our house to spend time with her only son. I hated Sundays. Perhaps I hated them more because I assumed Sundays would be our time. Time for us to do something together. Time for us to enjoy the weekend, to watch movies, go for dinners or meet friends. But Sundays were nothing that I expected and everything that I detested.

Then I got used to these Sundays. I found my groove. I found the best way to make the best out of my Sunday. Planned a lunch with a girlfriend; which believe me is difficult because everyone i knew was getting married and in those first years, they want to spend time with their husbands. So I went for movies alone sometimes, I went met other single friends, planned a rest day at home or cooked a special meal just for me. I started getting comfortable with these Sundays. I also started enjoying my alone time after I sent the maid home early and my husband would be out with his friends playing cricket and being a boy.

Then today happened which reminded me of all my past problems with Sundays. A big Bollywood movie released. After a long time, I wanted to see this one in the theatre. I asked him if he would like to see. I said yes. I showed him the tickets I was booking and he said yes (after a long wait) and then I went ahead and booked them for a SUNDAY afternoon show at 4 PM on the other side of town.

That was the beginning of the tantrums. Not the old kinds where we are loud and yelling our lungs out. But the passive ones. Now we know each others ways. And we have enough data to say the right words and push the right buttons to cause enough pain without the noise. The two days proceeding Sunday he didn't say much. He was resigned to the fact that the tickets are booked and there is a movie to go to. I, with all the honesty I could show offered to go alone so he could play cricket. Also told him that 75% of his ticket price is refundable so it can be cancelled and he could stay back. Also told him that I can book a driver, so he can play for a bit and then we can go towards that side of the city. He tried as well. He tried to be excited. He also tried to be a team player. He also tried to convince his friends to start the game early so he could play before leaving. But that didn't work out.

Then, Sunday arrived. Passive aggressive-ness continued. He woke up sulky. I tried to ensure my mood wasn't ruined because of him because I was genuinely excited for the movie. I got dressed up for him. Wore new earring, took out a fancy bag and even a new hair clip. No response from the other side. The whole drive to the city, he was sulking and minding his own business. It was like taking a child to a relative's bar mitzvah. We

reached the theatre. I requested him to stop sulking while keeping I mood happy because I genuinely wanted to be in a happy space. He pushed my away, not physically. So I walked away. We sat in the theatre. We were friendly. Shared our popcorn, a few kisses and held hands. Looked like the day was saved. The movie was great. Walked out of the theatre, to the car, he (mistakenly) threw my pillow which landed on the road, I yelled, he got pissed and the day was ruined again.

As it happens in marriage, one argument paved the gate to other issues. His primary issue came up : why do I control his Sundays? He requested that I leave his Sundays alone. He explained how that is the only day of the week he gets to relax and also the only time he gets to spend with his friends. It's his time and he doesn't want to make any plans on that day. Fair enough. I agreed. I apologised. Everyone has the right to spend their Sunday the way they want. I shouldn't force my company on my husband if he obviously would prefer

to play cricket with his friends. I started explaining how Sunday is also the only day where we can actually go out during the day time. How that it is also my Sunday and I would sometimes like to do something with my husband. But I realise it was too late to have this conversation again in our marriage for the umpteenth number of time and expect something to change. So we stopped talking here and used this time to take a mental break away from each other in that car. Before we reached home, we started discussing the film. Had a almost decent conversation which again,

not surprisingly, ended in a fight; which is a story for another day. And people say, marriage is a blessing. I really need to meet these people. So from now on no more Sunday afternoon plans with him for sure.

Now when I think about it, I wonder how did I dare to book those tickets? I guess because we hadn't fought about a Sunday for so long, I forgot what it would entail for us. But never again. I have promised him that unless he says he wants to go out on a Sunday, I am never again making a plan with him to eat, watch, visit or drink on a Sunday afternoon. Let's hope my memory stays strong now onwards. Fingers Crossed.