LifeZamaZing

Every Sunday I oil my hair in the morning and wash it off by the afternoon. And after oiling my hair if there is some oil left, i oil Abhi’s already gray and short tresses. Almost invariably when I go over to oil his hair he is sitting on his PC fidgeting with it. I fail to understand that after six long days of work right before a PC how can he get himself to sit before it the first thing on a Sunday morning. However, he amazes me till date and I always find him there, neck-deep in something that i find truly useless.

However, as soon as I start oiling his hair, his fingers automatically tend to slow down on the keypad and as if he is under a magical spell he gently closes the lids of his eyes evading the presence of the (evil, according to me) PC. My fingers in his hair work far better in taking him off work than any of words do. With full concentration he enjoys being worked on and a naughty yet innocent smile appears on his face. The smile is programmed, like thousand other things in his life, to grow into a broad grin as I work vigorously in his hair and shrink into an unpleasant smirk as i am about to end the Sunday routine. But all good things come to an end and so does this.

But this makes me wonder about the effect of TOUCH. It is just sooo immense yet understated that at times people just don’t tend to realize that they don’t need anti-depressants but just TOUCH! A good tight hug from your loved one could tell you much more than a thousand words or million dollar gift could. Imagine receiving all the presents on your birthday but no one to hug you or kiss you to wish you a birthday. It would be so hollow.

Touch according to me is the most underplayed therapeutic tool. Most Indian families see hugs between friends or family as an overt and hence useless display of emotions. I don’t remember having hugged my father or mother since I became old enough to remember things. It is sad. Not that my parents were careless but they just believed that their daughter is too old to be hugged or to-run-fingers-through-her-hair. I realized I enjoyed the touch of someone’s hand in my hair only when i went to a parlour for a hair massage.

And as i was married by then i decided to extend the pleasure of that magic of touch to my husband. However he hates the idea of oil and his latest request is ” can’t you just massage my hair without oiling them?” The request is met with an emphatic NO but he knows better. He knows that i love to fidget with his palms, hair and forehead. And hence whenever we are watching TV, he discreetly puts himself before me in such a manner that just out of volition I would start running my fingers through his hair. Just as unknowingly as people start biting nails or picking nose. And hence he has his way of oil-without-oil! By the time i realize that i have been systematically induced to work in a particular fashion he has had his quota of touch for the day and he is happy with it.

Shobha De has mentioned in her book ‘Spouse’ about the immense value of such TV-time touch for a marriage and I don’t seem to mind being duped into it at times if guarantees me such a pleasurable marriage. However, I just feel that touch need not be limited to spouses or babies. We as adults too need it. Of course not the touch that you so often get in India thanks to our population density. The touch in mumbai’s local trains carry no such value except the increase it brings in our tolerance levels towards fellow humans.

So, I am convinced that at any age i would like to be hugged and held by the ones i love, to celebrate or mourn whatever life has to offer. And i pray that all of us find people around us whom we can hug so that we don’t have to wait for some Juan Mann to start a ‘Free Hugs campaign’ or a munnabhai movie to remind us of the jadoo ki zhappi!

So, what do you say?? Let the touch spread? Or do you know of something better? Do let me know.

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I am a relatively very healthy girl (at 25 I do qualify for a girl, okk!). I can jog upto 2 kms and eat in good amounts and shift furniture in the house and change the wheels of the car, etc. etc. In short most things that typical ‘girlish girls’ can’t do, I can. And I am kinda happy with my macho-girl image. The reason is that I don’t like to ask for help for every small thing (it is my idea of feminism and all that but I will avoid discussing it here.. will do it in some other post some other time).

Okk, but I too fall ill and I fall ill only in one fashion- allergic cold. I am hyper sensitive to dust and all things unclean (and in India it is not hard to come across such things). And if by mistake my hands reach near my nose after I have touched a surface that is not wiped clean then God help me! Because for the next three days all you will find me doing is S..N..E..E..Z..I..N..G my lungs (heart, stomach, liver, kidneys…) out all through the day in a huge napkin. At times I am even prompted to use a towel but then I control my whims.

So all in all I am in deplorable state physically and everyone around me is annoyed with my condition. But I am not because now I am accustomed to it. I know exactly how many days does it take and when it will subside and all of that.

But I maintain that poise ONLY till my husband, Abhi, is not around me. As soon as I see him somehow a bout of self-pity overtakes me and my mind starts reasoning “Whhhy me, God??:( ” (i never ask that to God when I am having chocolate ice creams) and my behavior forces Abhi to consider that if he doesn’t attend me right away I might just expire. I constantly debate myself saying that I can manage it and I was fine just a while ago and no need to act so childish, blah, blah, blah. But even when I am debating I am actually acting like an attention-hungry-five-year-old.

And then comes the best part about falling ill. He would see my pitiable face and hug me and tell me that its ok and God has no ill-feelings for me and its not the first time that I have fallen ill, and all the other things that I KNEW only until he arrived. And then he would put me to bed and apply Vicks (i know its a brand and that its not the worldwide name for mentholated creams but we Indians are so accustomed to Vicks and Colgate that all OTC medicines related to cold are Vicks and all tooth-pastes are Colgates! ). He would rub it on my chest and neck and on the forehead and even put some INSIDE my nose (the yuckiest part as you would imagine but the most effective nonetheless) and treat me like a child.

And I ENJOIIIIIIIIIIII it to the core. I make sure that I am pampered and I enjoy my overindulgence in Vicks! It is one of the loveliest moments of my marriage and I would not trade it for anything. I have tried a lot of tricks and tactics to overcome the allergic cold for good but honestly have never felt sorry when neither of them have yielded results. I enjoy my small reason for being spoilt even if it costs me three whole days and a hell looooooottttttt of misery!! Thank you Abhi for making me enjoy my illness.

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