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I was chatting with this friend, and telling her how its been 6 yrs that I’ve been married, and how the husband used to be a poet back then. Also that he is still a poet, just that the poetry has always been confined to one set of women – Anyone who is not a wife. In fact , he has been exercising all forms of art that I married him for, for this same set of women. Great, no? :)

During this chat session, I remembered a blog post I wrote on the eve of my first anniversary, almost 5 yrs back. I read it, and chuckled at how I wrote all that I wrote, and how that is all true. Well, there is tonnes of mush in that post which I will cut back for your benefit, but then, well… even that mush part also is still true… ;-).

Now that you’ve barfed enough, here is what I wrote 5 yrs back…

Long ago, someone wrote a nice poem to woo me, something which no one did for me ever. Though I understood that the poet is obsessed with tans and tanned beauties, which I am obviously not, I obliged to his wooing and decided that I should let myself be the object of more of such poems.

Now, not so long ago only, I met a guy who called himself a charcoal painter. He looked into my eyes deeply on one of those very romantic evenings and tried to look deeper into them and announced to me suddenly – ‘Someday I am going to paint you in the backdrop of Hussain Sagar!’. The innocent me blushed and secretly did a monkey-jig at the thought of being the object of someone’s painting. Then I gave a very shy, demure smile which was so unlikely of me.

At around the same timeframe, I happened to meet this guy who called himself a wannabe-musician because of his small stint with a few musical instruments and he was also trying to patafy me and convince me to marry him.

Oh well, that also reminds me of this guy who was supposed to be a kinda-model, whom I met. Seeing his obvious attempts to line-marofy me, I told him that I am not at all open to meeting or getting married to models and that I don’t trust the lot. This guy had the guts to look straight into my eyes and tell me what marriage and commitment meant to him and what his wife would mean to him and how close I was to being there. He also went on to tell me how he intends to keep his marriage happy and exciting and somehow got me hooked.

But then, I was also supposed to be meeting this dirty IT-geek who has been lauded as the next best thing to Hyderabad. When I told him how much I hated being in IT myself and how I had no idea to get married to someone who wants to retire from IT, he had the self-confidence to tell me that he doesn’t intend to do that either.

Now I didn’t want to disappoint any of these guys who displayed flashes of qualities that I liked, and so I ended up marrying all four of them – thankfully it was just one person! :)

God only knows where the poet flew, or where the painter hid himself or which instruments the musician wants to try next, but I got the husband part minus all these extra additions and frills. Since then, every morning I woke up hoping that today would be the day when I would become the object or inspiration to any of these art forms, and every night I slept with the feeling that ‘Tomorrow is yet another day!’ *Sigh*

I go on to talk about how marriage has made me feel complete, how true love feels and all that stuff that relationship-help books write about,  a truckload of mush which even I cannot handle now, but yes, you get the drift right? :)

By the way, just to get things straight, the husband still is all those things I mentioned, and has even gathered a few more talents under his sleeve, yet again, all of them are for the betterment of the set he is most interested in.

Am now going to show this post to the husband, just to rub it in that I’ve never been a ‘muse’, a term he uses for anything which catches his fancy, generally of the female kind and falling into the aforementioned set. And see if I can squeeze material out all this emotional blackmail I plan to do.

Note: The title of this post is same as the one I wrote back then, I couldn’t think of a better title. I will not get into the meaning and significance of this title for the readers’ safety (yes, all three of them) , but please be assured that this itself is enough to make you barf for an entire evening.