February 6, 2003

Rana Khan deals with her husband’s four wives...

There is a Dutch proverb that says: “To marry once is a duty, twice is a folly, thrice is madness!” Wonder what they would say about someone who has four wives at one time? Doesn’t that count for supererogatory work? Matrimony is no game, where all the husbands get to have all the fun and play, while their spouses miserably weep away. Though I do agree with Disraeli to some extent, when he said it destroys one’s nerves to be amiable everyday to the same human being but then why else do people get married? Love is the dawn of marriage and marriage is the sunset of love!

Marriage has also been described as a romance in which the hero dies in the first chapter. I bet some husband came up with this when he was trying to gain sympathy and pity from remaining husbands of the world. In other romances that turn into instant tragedies, it is the heroine who lays down her life instead. Thus begins my tragic tale.

I once met a man whom I thought would be my ideal soul mate. Compatible, generous, good looking and loving. Yes, all attributes in one man. He was my knight in shining armour. The star husband to be. So, we got married and set sail on the ship of infinite love and harmony. But alas, the ship was overturned and we were overthrown. All hell broke loose when I discovered I was not the only one in his life. He had prior commitments and previous relationships following him around. I was his fourth best on the list of priorities. There were others sharing in the pie and the quarter granted to me was old and stale. Suddenly the icing on the wedding cake began to melt — right from the next day of our marriage and continues even after five years of maternal blizzard, sorry bliss!

My husband being an early bird wakes up when most of Karachi is soundly snoring. This I took to be a disciplined and effective upbringing by my mother-in-law and appreciated it only to discover that the two hours of grooming in the shower and before the mirror had ulterior motives. The scrubbing, brushing, polishing, combing, clipping and trimming were all in preparation of his meeting his first love, his first wife. So desperate is he to get out of the house that he gulps down his hot tea, hardly cares for any breakfast or snack, mumbles a faint goodbye like expression and dashes for the door.

But that’s not it! Before leaving to go to his first wife, he ensures he has sufficient time for his second wife too. Now she usually lands at our doorstep shortly after my husband has gone through his morning chores. They seem to have perfect timing — and an even cozier tuning. Once my husband lays his eyes on her, not even Kareena Kapoor can distract him. Hand in hand and eyes locked, they lose time and travel into an ethereal world of their own. Suddenly realizing he has done over time my husband quickly kisses her goodbye and heads for the first wife, who is impatiently waiting for him.

While he is away, I spend my day as the ultimate homemaker, dusting furniture, doing dishes, tidying up clutter, cooking for my better half, who has turned me into a bitter full. I chase my 15-month-old toddler from pillar to post who just cannot get enough of bat and ball. And did I forget to mention that I also spend quality time cursing myself and asking why did I have to tie the knot to the most overworked, underpaid, over committed and underestimated man on the planet earth? It is my tough luck and poor choice which threw me into this grind, and I can’t even blame it on some muddling relative or nuisance match- maker.

The clock ticks away and boy I wish I could turn it back and undo all errors — just like with Windows Office! Bill Gates should have created something that marvellous for disgruntled married couples. If he could, he would definitely be the richest man in the galaxy. Imagine the number of his clientele? Surely all of Hollywood would have blessed him from saving them for exorbitant divorces. Just a mere click would have granted them deliverance from the life sentence and set them free and that too free of cost!

Drifting back to my allegory, my husband comes home late in the evening with his crispy and meticulous look now waning and wilting away. He manages to mutter a vapid greeting and heads to his third wife for peace and comfort. By the way did I forget to mention that she too lives with us in the same house? Can you imagine my suffering? She embraces my husband with open arms and I have lost him to her for the next four hours or so. In between realizing my menial existence, he makes small talk about his first and second wife. Noticing my disinterest and more of disgust, he quickly retires to his third wife again.

For those of you who are totally tangled up in the cobweb of confusion of my marital affairs here are the demographics. My husband’s first wife is his job, the second is his newspaper, the third live-in-wife is our television set and last of the lucky lot is myself.

After returning home from his in-laws (office) he still gets calls from his first wife every now and then. My husband swiftly lowers the ringer of the telephone set apprehending my annoyance. My blood usually starts to boil when his cell phone rings amid our chaotic dinner with our son jumping around to make matters worse. My husband makes a quick hushed conversation mostly answering in monosyllables like yes and no and hurriedly ends it much to his heartbreak!

After dinner, he quickly sneaks out to his second wife’s relative (evening paper). He knows well that they have a tendency to gossip and blow facts way out of proportion but still he enjoys their company. So obsessed is he with his in-laws’ (the news bureau) that at times when he happens to hear a piece of news not yet published, he quickly calls them up to validate its authenticity. Once confirmed, he takes it to be his moral duty to spread it around. After all every good citizen should be an equally capable reporter too.

Nothing can surpass his undying love and loyalty to his third wife (television set). He ensures that no talk show, rehashed reruns, news update, sports coverage, even commercial breaks evade him. He treats them all with equal respect and views them with great zeal and zest. When the KESC dares to strike and the power is out, he paces the house up and down like a caged lion. He swears to leave Pakistan for greener pastures (read for uninterrupted telecasts). Otherwise when better sense prevails, he is a patriot to the core and loves our dear homeland passionately.

Balzac’s theory, that a woman must be a genius to create a good husband has proven me to be the most ineffective and futile wife ever born on the face of this earth. So trivial is my influence and presence that instead of making an impression or motivating him to spend reasonable time with me, I end up joining his party of spouses. I listen to his first in-laws’ sagas (boring business jargon) that are nothing short of a sleeping pill. I even manage to keep a track of his second wife’s whereabouts so I can discuss and dissect her with my husband. Lastly I sit through mindless television shows, never ending sports matches and the hourly news bulletins (and feel like putting a bullet in my head) just to keep him company.

Should you ever get a chance to see my husband in either of his three wives company, you would notice how he turns into Odie and I transform into Garfield. Our state can only be defined by the bumper sticker that reads: “some people exist just to annoy me!”. There would be a twinkle in his eyes, a grin on his face, a spark in his being and jubilation in the air.

All disagreements aside, naturally like any other woman I want my marriage to work, to have some equanimity in my life so I have strictly adopted the Zen philosophy. Change what you can, accept what you can’t change and have the wisdom to know the difference! Five years of marital experience has taught me not to bother a man so deeply in love with his job, newspaper and television set! So I let him live a delectable life in his heavenly harem.

However I will always regret not marrying an archeologist. According to Agatha Christie, if you marry one, he makes the best husband any woman can have. The older she gets, the more interested he is in her. Then the marriage stays in bloom eternally and the honeymoon never ends. Pathetically, for most of us it is just the other way around, something like the husband calls to say that I’ll be late for dinner, while the wife has already left a note saying that it’s in the refrigerator! Get the point?

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