“How about this green one? Laila? Where are you lost? I think this green saree looks gorgeous on you!”, Vikram exclaimed, eyeing the Pato silk in virginia green.
“Uh huh. Hmmmm. Yes, this is good”, Laila replied half-heartedly. Clearly, her attention was all on the huge poster of the male model as a bridegroom and the female model as the bride. She was not looking at the outfits. She was captivated by the clean shaven sauve look of the model. He was so much like Vikram – tall , silky hair that she loved running her fingers through and those expressive eyes, except for the stubble that Vikram sported with pride. Something she could never see eye to eye with.
Vikram had always loved her and treated her like a princess. She loved him back fiercely. They made a lovely couple. Vikram’s passion for life coupled with her adventurous spirit saw them sailing through almost a year of marriage like a pleasant dream. While they agreed to disagree on several issues amicably, this stubble seemed to cause a bit turbulence in their lives.
While Vikram took pride in the fact that the stubble gave him a sauve and experienced look, Laila thought otherwise. She could never understand how something that looked unkempt could be considered sauve. She felt it made him look shabby and gave the impression of being someone who did not put much thought into his grooming. She hated how it no longer felt smooth and nice when she ran her fingers on his cheeks. Even pecking him on his cheek was a pricky affair. Everytime she tried to give subtle hints of disapproval, he dismissed her off saying that it made him look rugged and hot. His continuous disregard for what she thought disturbed her.
“Hello Madam? ! You still did not tell me. Green? Or blue?”, Vikram asked impatiently. He found it strange that Laila was not enjoying shopping and that too, for their first New Year Party together after marriage.
“Yeah. Both are nice. Why don’t you choose? After all, you are fashionable, rugged and hot guy. So, you choose”, she added, her words dripping of her caustic wit.
Taken aback by her retort for a harmless question he had asked, he turned in the direction she was looking. Ah, the poster, he thought. No wonder she was upset again.
“Alright, I’ll treat you to a bonus this time. Let us buy both. You hardly shop for sarees these days”, he chirped. After paying the bill, they both got into the car and drove home. There was an awkward silence in the car. Nothing seemed to work. Neither did playing her favourite radio station nor enticing her to gol guppas have any effect. She seemed to sulk more and more. Staying mum was something she could never do. She was always the first to break the ice. He realized that she must be really upset to be so mum. Upon reaching home, she just went into the bedroom and closed the door complaining of a headache.
This was totally unlike her. She used to wait to get home, rip open the boxes and indulge in ramp walks harassing Vikram as to what style of wearing the outfit made her look better. He missed seeing her that way and wondered if he had really pushed it too far by dismissing her constant pleas to shave clean. It was after all a small request. Wasn’t she always at her best for him?
Feeling lost, he turned on the T.V. to see Main Hoon Na being telecasted. As he watched the movie, a brilliant idea germinated in his mind! He knew what he would do.
He would surprise her. New Year was 2 days away but he would start the celebrations right away. He rushed to the bathroom, pulled out his favourite razor and shaved off his stubble. He could not help notice how much younger and better he looked. Just the way Laila wanted.
Having completed his first plan of action, he went to the study and clicked a photo of himself and printed it. This was turning out to be better every minute.
Behind the photo, he wrote-
Some wise guy once said ‘ I hate shaving. It’s much easier to do a little stubble, but my wife likes it when I am clean-shaven. If you see me with a clean face, then you know I’m in the kissing mode.’
I’m no different. Come on! I’m sorry. Don’t make me crave! And definitely not after a clean shave. Please!
He slowly slid it under their bedroom door.
The rest as they say is history. And his-story turned out to be one super – duper happy- dappy one.
This post is a part of the <a href=”https://apps.facebook.com/425290917524532/?fb_source=search&ref=ts&fref=ts” title=”Shave or Crave” target=”_blank”>’Shave or Crave'</a> movement in association with <a href=”http://www.blogadda.com” title=”The biggest community of Indian Bloggers” target=”_blank”>BlogAdda.com</a>