Why do couples fight?

This is a light post not involving couples who are fighting seriously, filing for divorce etc.

My parents who have been married for the last 35 years, fight almost daily and those fights are mostly based on really silly things and embarass the hell out od my brother and me. While growing up I dont remember discussing the issue of parents fighting, I guess I was too embarassed about it all. One day in JNU hostel while discussing something or the other, this issue cropped up just by chance. And lo and behold it opened a huge plethora of reactions amongst my friends-- all the girls present complained about their parents fighting and how it embarassed them. I was amazed, at the same time breathed a sigh of relief that my parents are not the only ones who do such loony things, there are other equally mad people in this world. One of my colleagues once came about two hours late and when asked said that his parents were fighting and he was the alibi in that fight and therefore not allowed to budge!

When asked, my mother says that she enjoys fights, it breaks the monotony of her boring life and some such. Though post a fight, she hardly seems like she had gone through an enjoyable experience. Other friends report that their mothers report similar things-- that fighting with their husbands actually is a fun process and all that. It is best not to ask women much, once they open the list of complaints about their husbands, it is difficult to shut them up, my mother included.

When asked, my dad says that he does not enjoy fighting but ma is so impossible at times but he just cannot control himself, but he hardly enjoys the process. I have heard other fathers report similar things, the impossibilty or the immaturity of their 40 to 50 year old wives and how that forces them to fight. Men invariably don the cap of victim with the heavy burden of impossible wife. Being a woman, I know how untrue this is and how good men have it.

Cutting back to new age couples, my ten year older cousin sister is really sad that her husband cannot fight. She says it is the most frustrating thing in the world that one wants to fight, have a good roaring arguement and one's spouse is not cooperating, rather sitting there calmly with no sign of agitation. Previously I used to laugh at this-- I mean how funny can it be that the wife is all ready to fight and getting frustrated that the husband is not cooperating. But yesterday night I had a similar experience, I wanted to fight very badly with Indranil and he was not fighthing at all. Not that he is all docile and 'yes darling' type, his sarcastic barbs are of superior quality with perfect aim. But yesterday night he was just not cooperating and picking up my queues for a really roaring fight! I cannot tell you how much that frustrated me. Now I completely understand what my cousin goes through everytime my brother-in-law refuses to fight.

What I realised yesterday is that when we women want we should be allowed to have a good arguement, we should be given the space to vent out, have an attentive audience and that audience should also participate and make the process interesting. And then of course make up very mushily with chocolates and flowers et al. I think I should add this to Indranil's tor ;)
If he reads this, I can expect a fight tonight, what say????

nothing is gonna change my love for you...

when i was growing up glen mederios singing soulfully "nothing is gonna change my love for you" was an integral part of threads weaving "knight in shinning armour" types of dreams. this song along with others like " i just called to say i love you" were then available in the 80s most romantic song collection. a cassette which was pretty steep in price in those early 90s. so if a friend or friend of a friend had it, we would all get it recorded from it. after a long time i am listening to it on you tube and it is brining back fond memories of growing up, school, long forgotten friends and the excitement of first romance knocking on our hearts.
whenever we visited archies cards shop, this song among others would be sure to play. the mushy romantic cards promising endless ever lasting love, the over priced cuddly teady bears and songs like this would make the perfect atmosphere for romance. i remember those trips to archies shop in gariahat near basanti devi college. we would always go there after school, five or six of us. it was almost always girls, i dont ever remember going to archies with boys from school. some of my lucky friends who had boy friends in school would be going through the cards, sorting out the cheapest but mushiest card for their boy friends. while others like sudeshna and me, who outside the shop did not want boy friends, would go all sentimental, wishing just then that we did have some guy waiting for us with sweaty palms outside the school gate. there used to be those huge archies card, which at time would be hundred bucks or more. we would be looking at those and wish freverently that when we had boy friends, that boy friend would be romantic enough and rich enough to send us one. we loved going to archies. the best part about it was that archies would be decorated on the theme of the up coming occassion like christmas, val day, rakhi. "cool" people would be hanging out there. and it felt nice to be part of that crowd. we were such innocents. now a smile lingers on my face visualising me some 15 odd years ago in my rolled up blue school skirt and white shirt, trying to look like i belonged and there were some hundred boys i needed to buy romantic cards for. but alas. so i would just be looking at those cards, and store them in my brain for future needs.
another important occassion was when our girl friends recieved cards from some boy. the moment the boy gave a card our teenage esteemation for that boy would shoot up. he would be the nicest and most romantic guy ever. imagine a guy sending cards. if the size of that cards would be slightly bigger then our ohhhhhs and ahhhhhs would increase. but the girls would have trouble smuggling it inside their homes. so it would be given to someone like me who never had strict supervision at home for safe keep for sometime till mother dear goes away or something. then that girl would call about ten times to remind me to get that card that day. she would take her card home and put it under her mattress and look at it futrively when no one is at home, or everyone is asleep late at night. sometimes boys would propose girls with cards, even if the girl was not interested in the boy, she would simply take the card from him before rejecting his undying love.
funny how our sense of romance was regulated by archies and limited to cards, chocolates, music and maximum movies like qsqt and maine pyar kiya etc. but i wonder if we have actually matured more than that? maybe years have added cynicism and sophistication, maybe now a trip to europe or diamond on our finger would make us happier but even then whenever i hear "nothing is gonna change my love for you" my heart does a flip. and visions of mushy romantic cards and cuddly teddy bears float up!

On a lighter note: My roomies and me

Ok off late I have been doing just what I promised myself I wont do when I started this blog. I have again ventured into the serious mode and I do tend to write essays. My work makes me involved with these serious issues all day. Once in a while I need a breather hence my dabbling with silly staff.
The other day someone was talking about roommates/flatmates or as I call them roomies. While talking I realised that over the years I have had my share of roomies—good, bad, funny, sweet you name them I have had them.
If I want to talk about my roomies I think I should start with my poor brother. For about 10 years my brother and me, we shared a room. Now let me tell you I talk in my sleep, at times I even used to scream [we meaning my parents, my brother and me, never discovered the reason for my night time aggression] and my poor brother [god bless him] had to go through all that. He had to tolerate the light switched on till very late almost very night since I couldnt put down whichever book I was reading at that point and go to sleep at a decent hour. But if I was sleepy I would never allow him to keep the light switched on. I know big bully sisters. I am sure he must have thanked God when we finally got our own rooms.

I can vouch when I started to share room with others I tried to be a model roomie! When I went to JNU my first allotted roommate turned out to a kleptomaniac. It took me sometime to realise that and by that time she had snipped off some money (one thousand or so, quiet a lot in student days), some pairs of earrings (now who ever knows me knows just how precious ear rings are to me). Matters came to such a crisis that all my stuff was under lock and key and still I used to feel like she was reaping me off. Everytime I returned to my room I used to be in mortal fear that she must have taken something. Ever since I have become rather suspicious by nature. Hostels do teach you a thing or two about life.
Then I moved in with my friend Angira. Friends warned us not to move in together because shared space has resulted in breaking many a strong friendship. But fortunately for us room number 18 of Ganga Hostel in JNU campus was a very happy place where there were more all night chat sessions (adda) than studies. We divided the chores according to our skill areas. I had the heavy duty of decorating out room, cook food (if and when) while she was in charge of cleaning our room, which she did very diligently. Even though there were just two of us in the room, at any given point of time 3 to 4 more friends could be found there. We had our first booze party there and what a drama that was! That was the end of my JNU roomies, after that I was allotted a single room.
Then in Toronto I used to share the apartment with 4 girls-- one French, one Philipina,
one Russian and the last but not the least was a Canadian. Though all the girls were great I struck a great friendship with the Philipina called Beth. She was my guide on how to live and survive in Canada. She taught me how to do grocery shopping in Canada, how not to ram the huge grocery carts into the person standing in front of you (I did quiet a bit of that initially), where to get the best deals, how not to shop from Dominos (because they are expensive), how to pick up shampoos from Shoppers when they have the discount on…I don’t want to go on and on and bore you about the things Beth taught me, but the list is actually numerous. Miss you Beth!
Back in India I lived for sometime with my old JNU friend Anasua. Now both of us are big foodies and at night after going to bed invariably our discussion used to turn to food and alcohol. And then after a full dinner we used to crave for whatever food we would be discussing. Anasua used to crave for alcohol every night but we never managed to have any of it. Miss those night conversations Anasua.
At present I live with two girls one full Maharastrian and the other half. Courtesy the pure Maharastrian I have started to have vegetarian dinners and follow bits and parts of Marathi. Way to go Indian diversity.

my childhood crushes!

for confidentiality purposes i am keeping the names of all my ex loves secret.....
i was all of one and a half years...mind you very cute....i was taken to the zoo and there i saw this baby monkey....according to all witnesses (my father, mother, aunt, uncle and of course cousins) both the baby moneky and me....we were stuck....liking, attraction, chemistry and instant love at first sight...my mom could not drag me away from that cage nor could his mom......ah the monkey my first love....never met him after that..........but still havent been able to forget him.......
second love.....three year old, another zoo trip.....searched for my first love, couldnt find him anywhere...i was rather sad and forlon and then i saw HIM......he was standing next to his mom and oh! my! my! my breath stopped for a second..........he was sooooooooo cute...............he was the first baby elephant i saw and i fell in love with him instantly...again dragged home by parents.............dushman zamana!!!
throughout my childhood my dad and grandfather, both were browbeaten by me into telling me stories...........my dad had made up this story about a tiger escaping from the zoo and how he manages to come to our house and then what we do with him.....now i used to hear this story every night, sometimes twice till i was 5/6 years old.....that tiger was my constant childhood crush...........ok already devulged three of my crushes....rest some other time.....
one last one........i saw the animated movie frog prince when i was in class 1 or 2....still waiting for my frog who is going to turn to a prince and even now whenever i see a frog my heart goes dhak dhak.....................................
ok before u guys think i am totally 'nooje' character [courtesy dipankar dey in bancharam er bagan].......lemme stop..............................................................