Outside the Box

R,

Well, this is it. I leave tonight. We were laughing over our friends’ reactions to the news about my solo Europe trip, and you said, “To be fair, we were equally thrown when we first heard about P & S getting married but living in different cities.”

I sputtered an indignant, “Bu-wuh-nu-no! That’s completely different! This is for four weeks,” but, of course, you're right.

We say we’ve moved past the racial and religious prejudices of our parents’ generation, but we’re just as judgmental about things that don’t fit cookie-cutter molds of expected behavior. 

Over the last couple of years, there’ve been more instances of people pushing the boundaries and daring to do what they felt was right from them. P & S deciding their careers were in a great place and neither should compromise and move until they’d an equivalent offer in the city where the other person was.  J & D deciding to immigrate to Oz after a vacation there because they fell in love with the place – and willing to go there without a job to make it work. O saying she wanted to quit her job of seven years and do nothing for a while. 

 These, and others, are accounts which we hear and are tempted to raise a skeptical eyebrow at. We mouth the p.c. lines about how liberating it sounds, and how we’re so happy they’re happy, all the while thinking, “Wow, better you than me.”

We’re a patronizing lot. What does anyone standing outside know about where people are coming from, or what will happen in their lives? Yes, T & K were in a ‘long distance marriage,’ and she cheated on him; and E had to come back from the US penniless after four years looking for a job to no avail. But not all lives follow the same patterns, and everyone has a right to take the path that they think is right for them at the time. 

With not a little shame, I’ve resolved to try harder not to accept unconventional choices condescendingly, and to respect the fact that the people making these choices deserve the same respect that I’m due when I make my decisions.

-A.

Me Time

R,

Our generation prides itself on being super-duper progressive and open minded. Commenting about caste is enough to set off most Indian Elders’ gaskets, but we’re a lot harder to shock (I always anticipated our kids having to work really hard at it). Apparently, we’ve found the one thing that’ll do the trick.

When we talk about my plans for the summer, there’s dead silence from our friends, followed by hearty well wishes, interspersed with some bafflement. Why would I want to be away from you for so many weeks? They know my plan is to travel through Europe, but really, is everything okay with the two of us? 

Of course, last year when you went on a ‘boys’ trip’ to Africa, we didn’t hear any objections. If I had to paraphrase common wisdom, it’d probably go something like this: Boys will be boys, but as for girls… well, shouldn’t they just be girls? If I’d been single, I imagine this trip would have been perceived as free spirited and adventurous. Given I’m married, however, it becomes *ominous tones* Free-Spirited, not to mention Adventurous. 

There’s no doubt in my mind that I’d rather do this trip with you than alone. However, I saved up money for the last few years so I could eventually take time off and do my own thing. Not everyone has that luxury – you still have your 9 to 5 job and you can’t drop it to come traipsing through Europe with me. Should that mean I don’t go, or wait till you can come along, or settle for an eight day trip instead of the month long itinerary I had in mind? 

Honestly, we’re both givers in this relationship. It takes us a ridiculous amount of time to settle on anything because we’re busy trying to please the other person. I’d figure out a compromise on this trip if I had any hint at all that you wanted me to. You, on the other hand, don’t want me to compromise on anything; which is a feeling I fully reciprocate. I love how this barely needed a discussion, because it’s just not a big deal. I especially love how our parents see it the same way. They’re a lot cooler than we give them credit for, sometimes.

Putting this in perspective, it’s a month away when we’ve a lifetime together. It’s the same reason I don’t take you to my book club meetings and you go and play squash on your own. Yes, we’re one unit, and we choose to be together - but that doesn’t mean we stop being individuals. 

Happily,

A.

Money Matters

R,

Fact: you’ve always made more money than me (you risked a pricey business degree, so you deserve the extra $$’s you retain after paying off the hefty loan).

Fact: It doesn’t bother me – it isn’t even something I think about.

Of course, that’s easy for me to say. We’re not getting a divorce, so the ugly battles of rights over money doesn’t come up. We don’t have joint assets, since we use up our money on travel rather than houses or cars. You’re older than me, you’ve more work experience, you’ve the fancy degree. I’d have something to think about if you weren’t earning more than me. 

What if the situation was reversed? You’ve always talked about starting something of your own. If you did, I’d be the primary breadwinner for a bit. I can’t imagine it changing the equation between us, but you never know. I’m inherently frugal, would I become a shrew? You’re ambitious, impatient, and believe in living life to the fullest – would you resent me? 

Money comes up in Indian marriages in so many ways, even assuming dowry is actually illegal and doesn’t enter the picture. From the suitor looking for working women (progressive!) with salaries less than his, to the parents who are suddenly reluctant to ask their daughter for anything despite having to take out loans for her wedding, and despite her giving them a portion of her salary in the past. The housewife who gets a monthly allowance, the question of joint bank accounts and who contributes what percentage of money to it. The possibilities for miscommunication are endless, especially given no one likes to talk about money.

I read somewhere that it’s the leading cause of marital disputes. It’s easy to imagine. 

-A.

YOLO in NOLA

R,

We really only have two shared interests -  we love each other, and travel. When I stop to think about it, it's kind of scary how little we have in common... but I don't usually get the time to think about it, because we're either travelling, just back from a vacation, or planning our next one :)

Last night, we got back from our engagementiversary/valentine's week celebrations at New Orleans. Who knew a city in North America could be so charming? An All Saints game + Mardi Gras parade on Saturday night showcased Bourbon Street at its eccentric best - you could totally imagine it was still the 1920's and the Jazz Age had never ended. 

I don't want to glorify alcohol, but it fueled some incredibly beautiful scenes that night - most memorably, outrageously overdressed people on every balcony throwing beads and dollar notes into the crowd below. There wasn't a cab in sight, so we walked two miles back to our B&B, and every drunk we eavesdropped on was making surprisingly lucid proclamations. It was like something out of a Fitzgerald novel, and I was very tempted to just walk the streets all night recording what we heard. 

Sober, N'awlins is still surreally inspiring. I didn't see a single piece of art we didn't want to buy. The most average live music was better than most, and the really good jazz performances blew my mind away. Life slows down in Lousiana - each meal took an hour, every mouthful carefully savored. There was nothing about the city that resembled anything else we'd seen or done in the past. This is why I love travel: you can never take anything for granted when the world's always surprising you. 

I tried to take photos because I realized we hardly ever remember to - we took 15 trips last year and have less than 100 photos to show for it. Sadly, I got caught up in just experiencing NOLA, and took very few pics. I don't regret it, I wouldn't have wanted to interrupt the flow by whipping out a camera. But I thought I'd paint you a quick snapshot with words while it's still fresh in my mind. It's hands down my favorite city in the US.

A.

A spoonful of sugar

R,

Remember last Valentine’s, when you super sweetly put together a hand-cooked candle-light meal of mac and cheese? It was the cutest thing ever, especially since I’m well aware that you think that even ready-to-eat meals are a pain to put together. You obsessed over how the pasta was dry, and offered to put in more water, or add cheese, or… . I hope you remember that I said it was perfectly fine and I loved it.

It was perfectly fine, and I did love it, especially considering the effort you’d put into it. If you’d served me burned pasta with no cheese, it would still have been perfectly fine and I would have loved it. I realize it’s harder to feel similarly magnanimous about the daily meals I cook you – there are so many of them that you have to start taking them for granted a little, or it would be slightly absurd.

It’s great how low maintenance we both are. For the most part, you’ll eat anything, and I really only have to put together one meal in the night, since your office feeds you (and how!). There are no unreasonable demands to make things the way your mother did, or the way my mother did, and thank God for that, because they’re superlative cooks. However, here’s where our opinions diverge, never to meet again.

She thinks: So much repetition when I make dinner every day for the rest of our lives! How do I make this more exciting? What can I try making today?
He thinks: Damn foreign country, I can only get decent food at home. I hope it’s daal-chawal.
She thinks: Stuffed okra? Pumpkin curry?
He thinks: Daal-chawal. Please God, daal-chawal.
She thinks: Fine, if it’ll make him happy, daal-chawal. Again. Hmm, I wonder what would happen if I added aamchur?
He flips his lid. Consistency, woman, where’s the consistency! How can I lust for daal chawal if it’s a different type of daal each time you make it?

Harrumph. I see your point, and I’ll take it, albeit grudgingly. Since you only like about five dishes anyway, I suppose I could write down a recipe and stick to it and make you the same thing each day of the week. That sounds so incredibly boring to me, but I know you’d love it.

I’ll just have to explore my diversity as a cook with my own meals.

In return, I’ll ask for just one thing. You’re mighty vocal when a meal displeases you by not being what you expected it to be. I’d greatly appreciate it if you were to give me a token verbal indication when you’re happy with the meal as well.  I believe that’d be the recipe for a happy marriage, food wise. I even wrote it down.

A.