Two Years with Bigshot

Two years. And it just feels like yesterday that we were married. Okay, that’s a lie. We know exactly how the two years went by and the first year had been the most memorable one. Other than the fact that we were smiling ear to ear on our wedding day, while the guests congratulated the newly married couple, there was nothing enjoyable for us to be getting married in the hot summer in Kerala wearing shimmery saree with a gold necklace that choked my wind pipe slowly at it’s own pace. Ah, Indian weddings. Like I’ve mentioned before, Bigshot and I bonded as a couple only after I came to the US and being the spoiled brats that we both were, specially him, it took us a lot of time and effort to understand one another. Living with someone, whether it is a love marriage or arranged, it is a whole other ball game. Nobody tells you that you have to start sharing your stuff with your partner and it never occurred to me that I would have to do it too. I was extremely particular about using a separate spoon, plate, fork and everything else while growing up that I continued the same exercise throughout my 26 years of life.  I was so weird about sharing stuff that my roommate in college once told me and I quote, “Geeth, You should never get married”. To make things further clear, we shall talk about the two kinds of spoiled brats, one, who will never share anything with anybody, obviously that being me, another, who thinks everything in this world belongs to them, that’s Bigshot. He has tried using my mug, my plate, my face wash, my shampoo and let’s just say the first year went into an awful lot of the battles of figuring out ‘whose’ whose’ of ‘what’s what’.

Now, after two years of marriage, everything has changed around this household and we have even started calling ourselves as Vineeth (Vinod + Geeth), hoping that the name would catch on for everyone to start calling us the same, something similar to that of a Brangelina. Fingers crossed, LOL! Even though there are certain things I still don’t share with him, he has stopped hijacking most of my stuff and that shows the tremendous understanding we have for each other in the past two years. Our personalities are so different that sharing stuff isn’t the only thing we are figuring out about each other, each passing day. In fact, everything was going perfectly fine until yesterday night when I decided to expect something magical, when the clock struck 12 at midnight which officially started off our anniversary. You see, from childhood, my expectations from birthdays and other special occasions were more than ordinary. I wanted everyone to make me feel special and after celebrating anniversary last year, I was hoping for the same this year too. I’m like a tail-wagging dog who is waiting to catch the ball from the master so that I can bring it back to him as soon as I could, just so that I would get a “Good Boy” and a scratch behind my ears. But unfortunately, in the process of all that expectation I forgot about the kind of man I had married. Bigshot is like a whimsical cat, who doesn’t give a damn about what others think about him, as long as he gets to lick his legs and purr sitting on a fluffy pillow all day long. He sometimes transforms from that same cat to  ‘Joey’ from friends when the best gift you can expect from him is a “Hug” on your special day. Since he wanted to watch another episode of ‘House of Cards’ at 11 PM, I assumed otherwise that he is going to surprise me at 12 and the conversation for the rest of the one hour went something like this:

At 11:00 PM

ME: “Oh, I see, I know why you want to watch another episode. Gotcha!” *Winks* *Giggles*

BS: “What?”

ME: “So that we won’t sleep till 12.” *Giggling Uncontrollably* *Winks Again*

BS: “Oh nooooooo, where you expecting something at 12 for our anniversary?”

ME: “Oh God, You act so well. ” *Giggling more*

15 Minutes Later

ME: “45 minutes to go.” *Giggles*

BS: “Oh my, I’m so so sorry, I didn’t know that you would expect something at night.”

ME: “Enough with the surprise, I know you’ve something hidden somewhere.” *Giggling again*

BS: “I feel so bad right now.”

ME: “Fine, I’ll act surprised at 12, sheesh.” *Giggles*

30 minutes Later

ME: “Okay, whatever you are planning to surprise me with, do it, please, because I’m sleepy and I need to do my night routine also.”

BS: “Tutu, I swear I don’t have anything planned. I thought we would celebrate tomorrow night.”

ME: “Are you actually going to wait till 12 to give me my surprise?”

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At 12:00 AM

ME: “Happy Anniversary, Tuts!!”

BS: “Happy Anniversary, Tutu”

ME: *Kiss and hug*

BS: *Kiss and hug*

ME: *Smiling and looking at him for something more*

BS: *Gives me I-don’t-have-anything-else-to-give-you look*

ME: “Are you trying to make me disappointed and when I lose all hope, THEN do something so that I would be surprised?” *Trying to smile*

BS: “No”

ME: “My smile slowly fading away”

BS: *Hugs me again* “Surprise!!”

ME: “What?”

BS: “You were expecting a surprise and I surprised you with a no surprise. Surprise!”

I was probably sleep deprived because immediately after he said that, we started laughing so hard that I fell on the ground. We laughed till my stomach was knotting into curls and the pain became unbearable. The rest of the day I acted like the dog who has lost his master forever and Bigshot, well, he kept purring in his evening nap.

But you know what makes staying married to a cat like him feels? He is going to surprise you out of nowhere by jumping onto your head from the top of the stairs. As he came back from work in the evening for our anniversary dinner date, he made up for it by bringing flowers and a card saying how stupid he felt. We might even take years to completely understand and comprehend about each other, but the journey of figuring out the cat in him and the dog in me is the best part of it. As we ate our scrumptious meal at the restaurant reminiscing the past one year of our lives, I couldn’t help but fall head over heels in love with my purring cat.