The other day, a very weird thing happened. I had never experienced anything like it in my many-many years of happily married life.
The story went like this:
It so happened that my wife needed to buy something, a rather personal sort of gift for a close sort of friend who was sort of getting married. We were to meet her in the evening. The evening was about three hours away. Now my wife is a person who thrives on planning. In fact, she plans so much and so well that if you were to ask her what we would be doing on the third Sunday of September, she could tell you that I would be taking my son for a haircut. Mind you, that is still three haircuts away, but she knows. Now on the afternoon in question this very woman wanted to buy, on the spur of the moment, a present for a close friend. The said present, had not yet been decided.
Till now, there is nothing extraordinary. We all keep wanting things. I want to see the dark side of the moon, my wife wants to buy a little something over the course of an afternoon. There is nothing wrong with wanting, it is what has largely moulded our society into its present shape.
Well, we landed up in the general vicinity of that ubiquitous institution of consumerist-modernity: the mall. Whereupon, my wife immediately wanted to go in and buy something for her friend.
I scoffed at the idea.
You must realize that 'scoffing' at a wife is no joke. And if the wife in question happens to be your own, it is positively something worthy of a gallantry award. It takes a lot of courage, this scoffing at wives.
Early in a marriage, men end up doing a lot of 'scoffing', but as time goes by, they realize that to scoff reasonably and intelligently, one has to be correct. This 'being-correct' gene, nature has cruelly deprived most men of. This leads to another problem. Most men believe that before marriage, they used to be correct about everything. This is an illusion. Before a man gets married, nothing matters very much and most contentious issues are either bets on who can eat/drink the most or discussions about batting averages, both easily resolved.
Being correct is very much a function of circumstance. When it doesn't really matter, anything is correct.
So, as I mentioned, I scoffed at the idea of her buying something with only three hours to go to the dinner. The facts were on my side:
She said she only needed fifteen minutes. After taking twenty seconds for my patronizing chuckle, I allowed her twenty minutes.
Within fifteen minutes, we departed having paid for and acquired a bit of merchandise that was deemed a suitable gift.
I was stunned, flabbergasted, astonished, shocked, my brain was addled...fifteen minutes? FIFTEEN MINUTES?! That is generally the amount of time my wife can expound upon the relative merits of two heads of lettuce. An avid shopper she might be, but even when she has decided on the the need that needs to be fulfilled and a shopping expedition launched to do the needful, chances are it will not be successful in the first attempt. Or the second. On an average, she requires about four separate trips before buying a non-grocery article. Which is what has given rise to a new term - the Shopping Campaign.
But here I was with very much the same woman, having acquired a non-grocery article in fifteen minutes. It seemed to me as if my entire life till then was a sham - all those years spent in shopping malls could have been reduced to a few minutes. My head swam.
I leant on the car for support.
How could this happen? How did this anomaly in the Universe open up so suddenly? Would this be the norm from now on or was it just a freak incident, against all natural law? I just needed to get an answer.
I am proud to say that after weeks of thinking and evaluating, I have solved the problem.
It was an epiphany. He was right. Shopping has been modeled very much on cricket by wives.
We just watch the game. Women apply it to life.
The more I think of it, the more it seems to me that cricket must appear to the uninitiated much the same that my wife's shopping appears to me. As I have mentioned previously, she is an avid shopper, and shopping for her is not just the purchase, but the entire process is at least as, if not more, important. In fact, the entire approach to shopping is one that seems to imply that it is a test of character.
Similarly shopping: It goes on forever, for large parts of it the activity seems pointless and after all that effort and time, one mostly has groceries to show for it.
Next day, repeat the process. A fair number of repetitions will finally give you a win, that is cherished for times to come.
Ever since a game of cricket has started to be played over three hours to yield a result, I have seen distinct changes in shopping patterns of my wife as well. While that might not be the real thing for her, it has resulted, on occasion, in drastically reduced time spent shopping. This respite though is only temporary. Just as test cricket is the real deal, I do not think these small excursions will ever supplant the continuously ongoing campaign to buy a proper pair of shoes for a woman.
The story went like this:
It so happened that my wife needed to buy something, a rather personal sort of gift for a close sort of friend who was sort of getting married. We were to meet her in the evening. The evening was about three hours away. Now my wife is a person who thrives on planning. In fact, she plans so much and so well that if you were to ask her what we would be doing on the third Sunday of September, she could tell you that I would be taking my son for a haircut. Mind you, that is still three haircuts away, but she knows. Now on the afternoon in question this very woman wanted to buy, on the spur of the moment, a present for a close friend. The said present, had not yet been decided.
Till now, there is nothing extraordinary. We all keep wanting things. I want to see the dark side of the moon, my wife wants to buy a little something over the course of an afternoon. There is nothing wrong with wanting, it is what has largely moulded our society into its present shape.
Well, we landed up in the general vicinity of that ubiquitous institution of consumerist-modernity: the mall. Whereupon, my wife immediately wanted to go in and buy something for her friend.
I scoffed at the idea.
You must realize that 'scoffing' at a wife is no joke. And if the wife in question happens to be your own, it is positively something worthy of a gallantry award. It takes a lot of courage, this scoffing at wives.
Early in a marriage, men end up doing a lot of 'scoffing', but as time goes by, they realize that to scoff reasonably and intelligently, one has to be correct. This 'being-correct' gene, nature has cruelly deprived most men of. This leads to another problem. Most men believe that before marriage, they used to be correct about everything. This is an illusion. Before a man gets married, nothing matters very much and most contentious issues are either bets on who can eat/drink the most or discussions about batting averages, both easily resolved.
Being correct is very much a function of circumstance. When it doesn't really matter, anything is correct.
So, as I mentioned, I scoffed at the idea of her buying something with only three hours to go to the dinner. The facts were on my side:
- The 'buyee' was a close friend
- The decision of what to buy had not been taken
- The clincher was that given travel times and the fact that we needed to pick our son up in an hour and a bit from a class meant that we practically had about forty-five minutes in which to make the purchase. That is about the time it takes my wife to rev up her shopping engine, to sort of get warmed up, exchange pleasantries with the staff and tell me where to stand and to be visible.
She said she only needed fifteen minutes. After taking twenty seconds for my patronizing chuckle, I allowed her twenty minutes.
Within fifteen minutes, we departed having paid for and acquired a bit of merchandise that was deemed a suitable gift.
I was stunned, flabbergasted, astonished, shocked, my brain was addled...fifteen minutes? FIFTEEN MINUTES?! That is generally the amount of time my wife can expound upon the relative merits of two heads of lettuce. An avid shopper she might be, but even when she has decided on the the need that needs to be fulfilled and a shopping expedition launched to do the needful, chances are it will not be successful in the first attempt. Or the second. On an average, she requires about four separate trips before buying a non-grocery article. Which is what has given rise to a new term - the Shopping Campaign.
But here I was with very much the same woman, having acquired a non-grocery article in fifteen minutes. It seemed to me as if my entire life till then was a sham - all those years spent in shopping malls could have been reduced to a few minutes. My head swam.
I leant on the car for support.
How could this happen? How did this anomaly in the Universe open up so suddenly? Would this be the norm from now on or was it just a freak incident, against all natural law? I just needed to get an answer.
I am proud to say that after weeks of thinking and evaluating, I have solved the problem.
A few days ago, I was trying to explain test cricket to an American. He didn't get it, but wrapped things up by saying "You must love shopping with your wife."
It was an epiphany. He was right. Shopping has been modeled very much on cricket by wives.
We just watch the game. Women apply it to life.
The more I think of it, the more it seems to me that cricket must appear to the uninitiated much the same that my wife's shopping appears to me. As I have mentioned previously, she is an avid shopper, and shopping for her is not just the purchase, but the entire process is at least as, if not more, important. In fact, the entire approach to shopping is one that seems to imply that it is a test of character.
The similarities between test cricket and shopping are undeniable. To the uninitiated, both seem interminable, boring and pointless, with too many rules to truly understand what is happening and hence enjoy the game. Modern Test cricket, fortunately, lasts for a maximum of a mere five days. Buying a pair of shoes on the other hand might go on for weeks, with buying cabbage, cosmetics, clothes, sundry gifts, exercise ball, these-are-not-those-shoes being a side-effect. You might have only these sundries to show for the efforts over the said few weeks.
Ultimately, one is looking for closure. In Test cricket, closure exists in many forms after playing for seven hours a day (breaks included) for five days: a team might win (with the other losing as a direct, inseparable consequence), they might end up as a tie, where both are deemed to have won and neither lost, or as is the most common result, there might be a draw. It is this aspect that leaves non-cricket watchers flabbergasted and the question "Five days for what?" is often raised. But then cricket is more about the playing than about the winning.
Ultimately, one is looking for closure. In Test cricket, closure exists in many forms after playing for seven hours a day (breaks included) for five days: a team might win (with the other losing as a direct, inseparable consequence), they might end up as a tie, where both are deemed to have won and neither lost, or as is the most common result, there might be a draw. It is this aspect that leaves non-cricket watchers flabbergasted and the question "Five days for what?" is often raised. But then cricket is more about the playing than about the winning.
Similarly shopping: It goes on forever, for large parts of it the activity seems pointless and after all that effort and time, one mostly has groceries to show for it.
Next day, repeat the process. A fair number of repetitions will finally give you a win, that is cherished for times to come.
Ever since a game of cricket has started to be played over three hours to yield a result, I have seen distinct changes in shopping patterns of my wife as well. While that might not be the real thing for her, it has resulted, on occasion, in drastically reduced time spent shopping. This respite though is only temporary. Just as test cricket is the real deal, I do not think these small excursions will ever supplant the continuously ongoing campaign to buy a proper pair of shoes for a woman.
