Best Emails I have Received: 2012

Hi Folks

Only a hyderabadi could have written this and you need to be a hyderabadi to appreciate it.

Ravi

Ek Tha Tiger

As soon as I heard about the Indian movie 'Ek tha Tiger' being released, curiosity bit me. The movie title was suspicious enough for me to believe that it was based on my life; my life and status after getting married, hence the title Ek tha Tiger. 'Don't believe everything you think' is good advice and I should have left it at that, but a nagging feeling about something so sardonic led me to check out this movie discreetly, alone without the family. If the movie was truly my life story post nuptials, I did not want the wife to get the triumphant feeling of taming the shrew, or in my case 'The Tiger,'and getting famous for it.

Upon arriving at the theatre for a show at a very inconvenient time, I was surprised by the crowd; too many people, especially men. I found among them many friends and others I know from my many walks of life. They too had all come alone. They had the same inkling that the movie was based on their lives after getting married. I guess great men think alike. Not sure what is stranger though, all men thinking of themselves as Tigers or the similarity of all our stories post 'the happiest day of our lives'. I left disappointed, for the movie was not based on my married life. The only similarity between me and Salman Khan's was our well tone bodies, though he tends to show it off far more often than I do.

You might snort about me referencing to myself as Tiger in such a nonchalant way and dismiss with "Kya baingan ke bata karra ino," but I have good reasons for my conviction. Growing up, I was inadvertently bestowed with that title. And it was not because I was born at a hospital very close to a jungle that had lots of tigers in it; or similar to a tiger having stripes, I had stripes too; only these were smaller and cuter called moles, beauty marks or kaala til, the defenders of my handsomeness (Daulat e Husn per Darbaan.)

Tiger and Sher are two different animals, but growing up the words were interchangeable in our household. It was said that the first time I cried after being born, the Doctor commented to my mom 'Kya Sher ke waisa dahad raa.' Maybe that set the stage for my dear Jannati mom to always refer to me as 'Mera Sher beta' especially while coaxing me to do things I was reluctant of; eating my vegetables or learning to go solo on the potty or to getting sauda from the market. You could discount it as unconditional Maa ka Pyaar but there is more.

When friends met me after a gap of few days, they quipped "Kahan hai Tiger? Bahut dino se dike nahi." Or that girl in middle school with buck teeth, oily hair and soda glass eyewear, she always had trouble opening her stainless steel tiffin box and when I opened it up for her, she winked and complimented me with a toothy grin 'Oh my tiger, thank you!" Or for that matter the Malayali nurse at the Paediatrician's office in her typical accent encouraging me with 'Tager, be brave' as I cowered upon sighting the big needle in her hand.

In my teens and in college, zipping around on my bike earned me the sobriquet of "Tiger on the loose" from the giggling girls in the neighbourhood. Being called Tiger could very well be based on my majestic aura and style, my agility or phurti or my strength and bravery. It is another thing that the bravery went out the door the minute the wife walked into my life.

Even my wife's brother called me Tiger Bhai rather than the usual Dulhe Bhai untill I said "Qubool hai." After that formality, he suddenly started addressing me by my first name. Saala kahi ka!

Then I got married. Tiger tiger na raha. The myth of Tiger shattered.

Legend has it that in a jungle, a lion was getting married. The baraat was led by a Chuha (mouse) and he was all super thrilled, dancing, singing and celebrating with such vigour that everybody was stunned. When asked for a reason as to why he was so excited when the lion was getting married, the Chuha replied, "Shaadi se pehle mai bhi Sher tha"

The first few months after the wedding, Chalo Tiger shopping karne, Tiger let's go for a drive, Tiger zara bartan saaf kar do, Tiger ki aisi ki taisi was still heard around the house. As life moved on, the tiger became a work horse. Nowadays forget the moniker 'Tiger', even my real name is not used around the house; I get excited when my wife calls me Oye or better yet Arrey. Arrey Turre happens on special occasions; the romantic pal for when she needs me to mop the kitchen. Tumhi kaho key yeh andaaz guftago kya hai.

What gives me the feeling of not being the king of the house or Tiger anymore? The first of many clues was the poster of Nadia Hunterwaali front and center in our living room along with a whip. Next was the bed time story time for our young kids; my wife always had a story that began with 'Once upon a time, there was a Tiger in Hyderabad'

If that was not good enough, calling me down with 'Tiger dinner time' and then feeding me salads was cruel. Bhala tiger bhi ghaas phoos khata. Contrast this with my mom, who before preparing dinner asked 'Aaj mera sher beta kya khata' and made things I liked. My wife does the opposite. I ask for Tala huwa gosht and she gives me spinach. It is not that I am very particular about my foods; I am actually very humble about it. Give me a single dish like Biryani, Haleem, Nihari and I won't even complain about having to eat them for more than a day.

The tiger syndrome had me picking up clothes that always had stripes; they felt good and natural on my body. The past few years, my wife has banned me from wearing anything striped. Instead, she now makes me wear clothes that make me look like a Tota at best, colourful and shiny shirts along with skinny jeans that squeeze all the blood from my lower body to put a glow elsewhere.

Decisions which were once the domain of the King of the house have now been limited to rubber stamping the decisions made by the wife. I feel like the President of India when Indira Gandhi was the Prime Minister. A coup d'tat has replaced the tiger king with a queen bee. I am now the toothless tiger from the circus that can roar powerfully for the crowd but still performs the acts when the lady calmly shouts orders while twirling the menacing whip in her hand.

Closing on twenty year to that fateful day when I got married it has been chit bhi meri, pat bhi meri all the way on her part. Now I ask blindly follow her. If she says it is night and there is sun shining brightly right over my head, I don't argue and consider it to be night.

The Tiger from before is now only a paper one. After getting married, it felt less like a tiger and more a combination of Ghoda, Ghada, Ulloo and Tota depending the time of the day and situation. Just like there can't be Do talwar ek mayan me, I realized as soon as I got married that two Tigers can't run the show in the same dynasty. So, the Alpha Male once again had to sacrifice his individuality on the altar of her, my dear and lovely Tigress's happiness.

Tiger being always a tiger, I do still act like one outside the house even with my wife present. She let me act my dramatic part. Once at home, I am the ultimate Mitti ka Sher. The wife can take the tiger out of the man after marriage but in reality married men like to think that the tiger lives on in their vanity for ever. The movie has already come out, but I will be struggling till hell freezes before my status on Facebook have the epithet of Ek Tha Tiger.