17th June
Dear diary,
Today I am celebrating 2 years of my marital status. For days, I have been conglomerating my thoughts in you. Most of them being rants and ordeals, but from tomorrow everything will change; I will rebuke, and will fly out of her dark and snobbish aura, which had been excruciating me and even my solace for years. Therefore, I will jot a synopsis of my journey from where it all started for the very last time. I am thankful to you for being a mute spectator and listening to me as a friend with a deep sympathy.
Anecdote
I was an astute man before I got married, I lost all my sharpness; rusted and ditched, “queen of astuteness” bestowed over me. I remember she asked me, “Can you cook?” in our first meeting, what I never knew was; my answer will be taken too literally.
Deceptive
It was a fugitive delight when I got married. Did you notice the word “fugitive?” Soon we moved into our new home that I bought. In addition, that was the time when se unearthed her real self. She was not a zombie but something much more horrific than a zombie is—a sweet talker, aka manipulator (Said in a slow trembling tone) *Heavy Sigh*.
Cliché
Making me clean the untidy dishes after working for nine straight hours is the most generous act according to her morals. She soon demanded to relinquish my control on the capital expenditure, a full share in my salary. I thought it was a good thing but sending me office with just Rs 200 as a pocket money; what in the world does that means?
I am always treated like I am a Congressmen even though I cast my vote on the name of Behen Mayawati.
Emancipation Seized
Soon she learned how to drive my car; I was force to commute via cycle to my office. She uses car for her own purpose now—parlours visit, stalking Sheila’s (Resident in the adjacent block) place, discovering new malls with 40-60% off hoarding, spa, bakery, etc.
