I’d often wonder why I am still married to this man. At the outset, 7 years ago, he had made it very clear that his life would never revolve around me. Yes, I was important to him but not THE MOST importantEST (yea, something like that). Well, one had great hopes about oneself and one’s ability/talent to influence the other … so here’s my story.
I knew I could never compete with his first wife. Of course she carried his butt all the way to Himalayas. Tinkering with bikes and cars is his obsession. He always has two extra sets of spare parts stored in dabbas for future. But the thoughtfulness ends there. 😛 After clocking some 70,000 kms, when the man decided to give the bullet I secretly did my dinka chikka dance. God was indeed great coz the man hated the new version of bullet. Royal Enfield stopped producing spares or something .. and he did not want to go for an old one.. Thus I became the Biwi No.1
A year later, my Dad took pity on us (probably because we kept borrowing his car 24 days in a month?) and got us a car. What happens? Don’t even get me started on this. Now tell me, who washes a car for a solid 3 ½ hours?? He does. That too with my shampoo. Having learnt to drive a car now, I can clearly see he is possessive about her. He refuses to let me drive the car.
Just when I thought things are improving, I have been betrayed again.
Well…… The latest hottie is a sleek, black bicycle.
This guy who never put up any personal photos on facebook or cared to share what’s happening in his life is now posting updates everyday .. adventures with his cycle.
I had remarked dryly that his obsession will last for a week. It’s been a month.. To my consternation, here I am now, eating my own words when I see him and his cycle inseparable.
I am now relegated to Biwi No.3