The "Husband Material"

Flipping a few chapters backwards to Bangalore. It was a particularly hectic week at office. We decided to escape the hustles and bustles for the weekend, this time with my sister and family. At daybreak, we made ourselves comfortable in our car, and vroomed to a very particularly quiet and serene hill station near Bangalore. The drive was not less than seven hours, and hubby drove all the way with just a breakfast break in between.

 Driving is a passion for him, and any long distance drive doesn’t make him impatient, weary or irritable.After long exhausting drives like these , he usually appears cool and fresh for photo sessions ... but  me…who’d be sitting idle in the car end up looking like I'd been dragged all the way. 

We reached our destination by noon... the resort cottages were crispy clean and cool. The men bought us Chicken Biryani for lunch. I collapsed into bed for a short afternoon nap, conveniently ignoring comments that if it was to sleep I could’ve slept at home…why drive all the way and pay for a resort. Zzzz.

By evening I was almost sure that what we ate was Biryani, but it was not chicken. The rumbling sounds in my stomach was almost audible to myself and eerie thoughts clouded my head as I began guessing what it could have been, having seen many dogs and monkeys en route. A trip like this one doesn’t happen every weekend, so I shushed the sounds to myself.

Soon it was dinner time. I ate a bare minimum, popped a Lopamide, drank warm water, restored myself and we lay down to sleep. The seven hour drive had begun to show now, and hubby retired to bed and fell asleep soon after. However the dogs and monkeys had no plans to let me. I was unable to sit or lie down. I walked up and down the room, visited the loo like 25 times, popped another pill, and by now the growling and rumbling had given way to unbearable pain in the abdomen. I sat by the window side, shut my eyes tight and prayed. Tears were flowing down my face.

By now, hubby dear was sleeping peacefully, with an expression which told that he was pretty amused by his dream. I had one hand on my stomach, whose affairs had gone way out of my control and sat on the bed next to him. His dream had gotten so entertaining that now he was laughing aloud.

Ignoring it, I switched off the lights and got under the covers…I don’t remember when I slept, but at least I could. In the morning I couldn’t wait to tell everyone of the  scariest night of my life, the pain, the laughter, the helplessness and the action that could have happened if he had laughed some more.

Putting more thought into it…what would I have done if it was a room mate, a sibling, a friend or relative, who laughed when I was miserable? Either a kick on the ass or waking them up and making them stay awake with me throughout the night. But I never even thought of waking hubby up considering the long drive especially after a shift the previous day at office.

Husband is totally different from the rest of the world. Ain't he ? J