I read the article once again. Tonight, was the night. It had been six months since Abhay had been intimate with me. I was dying to be touched. I needed my husband to desire me. What the hell had gone wrong with him? Or was it me? I'd been trying to be a good wife for so long that it may have altered his thoughts from being passionate to being passive. After all, he told me once that he believed all romance dies after a year anyway, then it was all duty. But he was very sleepy then. And I'm sure he didn't mean it. Or did he? I was determined to bring the spark back into my marriage and prove that romance doesn't die with each phera. I read the checklist in the article to make sure I was doing everything correctly.
1. Look the part. I glanced at myself in the mirror. I'd blow-dried my shoulder-length dark brown hair, put on smoky eye make- up to make my dark black eyes pop, and applied a light lip gloss that helped me pout just like they showed in the magazines. I wished I were sexier. More confident. I wished that I could demand what I wanted from Abhay in bed. But I've never been the type to assert myself or be overtly sensual. I was always nervous around too many people. I sprayed on some perfume. I looked good and always felt better after I put on some perfume. Check.
2. Wear slightly revealing clothes. I was wearing purple satin boxers and a singlet that would be casual and yet flirty. I refused to buy expensive lingerie that Abhay wouldn't notice. At the beginning of the marriage, he used to be so eager to get every piece of clothing off me. But then he struggled, and it became a chore for him. He grumbled at the hooks and lost his mojo by the time I was naked. The point of lingerie was completely lost. But sexy nightwear? Check.
3. Create the mood. I know about this one. My friend Diya gave me sound advice on how to spice up my sex life because she said she still had a roaring sex life. But I'm not sure I could do all the things she does. It seems like a lot of work. But the intimacy with Abhay had been dwindling over the last year. And with it, my self-esteem. I know. I know. I am a self-made woman. I like a lot of things in life-plants, swimming and reading books. But I've always wanted companionship. I hate being alone. And lately, Abhay has been spending more time playing tennis and hanging out with his friends than coming home to me.
'Nandita,' Abhay shouted as he entered the house. 'Where are you? Ma? Papa?' 'In our room, Abhay,' I call out. I lay on the bed, pretending to
read.
4. Don't seem over-eager. Over-eager? Just the thought of being touched made me horny. God, it had been so long! When had the magic died exactly? Probably when I started wearing boring, cotton flowery nighties to bed. No, it was when we got the Netflix account. Maybe it had already been dwindling. I can't remember. But I was going to keep it casual. Just by the way.
