The Journey - 35 years and counting.

[Disclaimer : This entry has not been written by Arundhati Kakati, but rather for Arundhati Kakati. So groupies of Mam Kakati, you have been forewarned.]

Today my parents will be married for 35 years. That is a very long time. I mean, I haven't even lived for so many, let alone be married that long. So what is the secret to their happy union, you ask?

"Everyone likes a good argument, consensus is less interesting." That is line from a popular soap opera, and I think it basically sums up my parents. They are different, polar opposites.

My father is a man of hard science (he studied Physics and Mathematics), whereas Ma majored in history, enjoys poetry. Baba enjoys the precision and patience required in carpentry which he delves into, in his free time; my mother likes to write and pot varied flowers. Even when they cook, their approaches are very different. If Baba is cooking for two people, I can assure you there won't be a morsel left over for a third person. Ma cooks with a freer hand. Sometimes we eat party leftovers for days. 

So how do they make it work? Shouldn't they be warring constantly? They do, a wee bit. But I will get to that later. First, lets talk about happy stuff, shall we?

What they do have in common, is a love for new experiences. That's the thread that binds them together. They can find something interesting to do even in the most godforsaken place on earth (many of which my father has been posted to). I have this theory, that you can send my parents into any warring zone (Gaza, Syria, Newshour Debate with Arnab; take your pick) and somehow they wouldn't be just alive, but dancing to a bootlegged copy of 'Happy by Pharell."

So here is how opposite forces work. They just rub into each together. I have sat through many a boring discussions in my adolescence, where I have heard my Mother passionately explain the meaning of 'Charge of the light brigade', and Baba, patiently listening and then countering her interpretation. And roles reverse when Baba lectures her on the Keynesian theory, black holes, Planck theory and she dutifully listens and then rushes to the Encyclopaedia (remember those fat books) to create a counter.

Yes, of course sometimes arguments run too long and turn bitter. Ideas and principles log heads. But what I find interesting is their accusations. She goes, "You're mad. I am sure you are a little mad. All very intelligent people are mad. Look at Einstein". And he counters, "You are so dramatic. I know, it's because you are a cusp (half Pisces, half Aries), that makes you such a diva!"

Einstein! Diva! I wonder sometimes do they even realize, that they are actually lauding, while they are trying to hurl insults at each other? If I didn't specifically mention that they were arguing, I wouldn't blame you, for thinking that this is bedroom talk going on.

In tragedy, they find admiration. Well, they also do find admiration in tragedy. Read on.

 Once we were travelling in the standard government issued gypsy with us kids in the back and Baba driving. Suddenly he started belting Bhupen Hazarika's Moore Dusokue suwa ghone ghone (which he swears that the bard wrote with him and Ma in mind), and he leaned over very romantically to kiss Ma. And the gypsy swerved right into a pothole. Mind you, it is easy to assume that he had a few too many, but he was as sober as a nun. Drunk was he, in love. Can you imagine what a tragically comical headline it would have made if the pothole had been something deeper: "Cop & family perish while kissing on the wheel."

They are a team, a tempestuous one, no doubt but still a team. They have done a good many things together, even added on the inches together. They brought up two kids, to be decently successful upstanding citizens (well, at least my brother is!)

Many young mothers ask Ma, how she raised her kids with such efficiency. My mother spouts an eloquent philosophy which young Mommies eat up. But I'll tell you the real dope. Talk, talk to your kids. Never allow that channel of communication to close. My parents never did. Even today, (I am married and almost 30), I find an open door.

I idolized my parents as a child. I not only wanted to please them, but I think both my brother and I never really had too many close friends while growing up because very few could match up to my parents. And it remained so, until I became an adult and the idolatry converted into a deep mutual respect.

So happy anniversary, kids. I'm sorry I am not closer, but promise to be there for your 50th.