I was not worried, but was definitely disturbed at the thought put forward by my better-half. I looked at her under the shadow of the night-lamp. She was calm but I could find answers to the questions I had not asked in three years of our marriage.
“We should think of planning our family. Your mother had a long ‘discussion’ with me.” She said to me. More than anything else; I was not able to digest that three years of marriage had passed by in the most routine 24 hours.
Having married a working girl, I believed living a ‘happy’ married life was what 24 hours spared us with beyond working and daily chores. Having breakfast together, leaving for office, calling each other during the day to inquire about house-hold chores, taking a couple of holidays, attending family events & everything else – was my definition of happiness in marriage.
What we really ignored was striking a ‘conversation beyond these routine affairs’. I had started feeling the dearth of words beyond the routine things. I could not blame anyone but me to have ignored this all these years. I was determined to achieve the ‘comfort of communication’.
It was not difficult for me to leave office on time from next day – I had a reason. I had set out something I wanted to achieve. Returning home early gave me about one and a half hours before my wife arrived. And frankly speaking that was enough for a sustained effort of three weeks to learn few Italian dishes my wife loved.
– Research pertaining to understand different types of cheese, identifying basil, bell peppers, Arborio rice, etc. was done during the office hours – Check
– Equipped with knowledge (gained from internet); first week went into learning how to chop, grind & take appropriate proportions of ingredients – Check
– Second week learning went into infusing life into the raw materials – Check
– Final week was dedicated to perfecting the taste & presentation of the dish – Check
Finally the D-Day arrived. I took a half day & put together all my learning into the act. I was shivering with excitement at the prospect of the outcome. Not to mention the minor changes that I did around dining table to set the ambience. And obviously, I do not have words to pen down the initial reaction of my wife. I uncovered the lid of the pizza that I had baked, & it had a topping which read, “How have you been?” This time her calmness came with a smile.
Setting a deadline to achieve something like this worked wonders! And I also learnt to erase evidence of manhandling the kitchen! I had stories to share with my wife that evening how I made things happen – one step at a time. And oh Boy! She was hell impressed