~Unknown
The moment I say I am from India, most people ask me if I have visited the Taj Mahal. My answer to them is usually a sheepish "no". Being an only child, you tend to be overcompensated in some areas - in my case, my mom's over-protectiveness. Fearing that some calamity might befall her only progeny, she always made sure I never left her sight, thus curbing any kind of travel that might take me away from her. Yet, as weird as parents can be, she sent me several thousand kilometres apart, entrusted into the care of someone she had hardly met, in the name of marriage. Even after crossing over to the other side of the parenting fence, I still find it hard to comprehend the oddity of parents. But yeah, I am digressing as usual.....anyway back to the legend of the Taj.
There are historical claims that this ancient mausoleum once used to be a Hindu temple, but the obvious story known to the world is that this architectural wonder was built as an "elegy in marble" by a Mughal emperor for his dear wife and queen Mumtaz Mahal. Now any woman with a few grey cells (and a few grey hairs perhaps) might wonder why such an elaborate and elegant gift to a wife without any strings attached, especially a posthumous gift.....and especially this being a Muslim king with a penchant for women. Well, we all know the famous adage "love is blind", so lets skip reading the fine print. However despite my jaded outlook, the splendour of Taj Mahal has remained undiminished and has always been known as a symbol of love and an eternal tribute of a husband's loyalty and love to his wife.
So yesterday I wake up and still snuggled warm under the covers, ask my hubby about Valentine's day. It is something that we have never paid any attention to all our married life and this year was not going to be any different. But then some women are very optimistic and I happen to be one of them, ah well atleast lately :) He then tells me that if he had the money, he would build me a room fitted with all kinds of technological gadgets to keep me amused and cater me with all facilities. There would literally be no need to step out of the room for anything.
Even before I could revel in the pleasure his words bring me, my last (and least) remaining grey cells kick into action and still hazy, I open my eyes just in time to watch that cheeky smile flitting across his face. Ha, my female counterparts, aren't we so used to looking the gift horse in the mouth :) I usually like to have my sleep-ins during the weekends, so the kids and hubby are used to having some peace and quiet in the house till I wake up. Once I am up, then being a compulsive cleaning freak, I start fretting about things strewn about and the house being in a mess. Generally my weekends start with my whining decibels higher than the whirring of any cleaning equipment I am operating.
So when my darling hubby dreams of having me interred in my sophisticated and modern mausoleum, my warning bells do go ringing big time. And there I was imagining my own Taj Mahal, when all he wanted was to turn me into another Mrs.Rochester :) Now you wonder why I treat the story of the Taj Mahal with a liberal dash of the salt !!! I look at him balefully and before I slink back under the covers I tell him not to forget to add a connecting door to the garage from my room. He then breaks into a big goofy grin that I cannot resist returning.
Life with me is a bed of roses........what, can't I pretend for a while.......allright, it is rather a bed of rose shrubs, beautiful as it is with blooming blossoms, you also have the thorns to contend with. But my personal gardener, given his saintly patience has taken care of the shrub, tending to it day and night and giving his utmost care. At times the bush tends to run wild but he prunes it, despite the thorns that leave him bleeding, and shapes it in a way that makes not just his heart to glow but also brings the beauty of that rose-plant to the world.
Nobody is perfect, but with the true sense of hope and faith and a dash of love, one can see beyond the other's imperfections. After all isn't the message of Valentine's day that of promise and hope???
Happy Roses, my gardener :)
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