Akash really pursued me – not like Kabir S but SRK! He just wouldn’t give up. Flowers, chocolates, gifts, compliments, it was an embarrassment of riches. My friends were convinced that ours was a replay of DDLJ and the guy didn’t disappoint them. Playing to the gallery with all cylinders firing – complete with kneeling on one knee, flowers in hand and song on lips – Akash Kohli was on a flier ... and honestly, quite irresistible! After successfully pataoing my friends and me – he next targeted my simple, unguarded family.
Starting with Dadi, he moved on to my kid sis and later mom and had them eating off his palms. Sweet, charming, thoughtful, funny, the Rock Star had customised jokes and anecdotes to connect with all three of them to the extent that they would look forward to his visits. As can be gathered, with everyone rooting for him, my poor Dad had no chance when he asked for my hand. Dadi, Mom and Sis assured him that a better Jamai Raja was not born on the face of this earth! So, February this year, at age 22, Simran Sharma became Simran Kohli!
To be fair to my hubby, as a prospect, he had indeed connected all the dots and ticked all the boxes. He was young (24), came from a very respectable and wealthy family with traditional values, in place, along with excellent academic background with a super job to match. Also ... er – he was really dishy looking, with a lovely physique and cute dimples ... so everything considered, all good! The Saat Pheras and honeymoon went off like a dream and till the middle of May, it was bliss all the way.
Then the buzz of the impending World Cup began and soon took on – like Frankenstein? – a life of its own!
Coming from a women-dominated home, our interest and knowledge of cricket were limited. Like every Indian, we loved Dhoni and Virat and cheered the Indian team when they were flying high, but nothing more. Dad too, enjoyed watching cricket, but with women power hot n’ heavy on serials, movies and shows, the poor guy didn’t get too much of an opportunity.
Now, for the first time I saw, in hard close-up what cricket-mania was! From that [cursed] May 30, when the World Cup kicked off, my nice, romantic, caring, loving, attentive and passionate young husband, transformed overnight into a totally different person! Glued to the idiot box for hours on end, totally oblivious to everyone around him and displaying an array of emotions & passions that would shame all our A-lister movie stars, Akash Kohli became a total stranger! A guy who never left for work without a little cuddle & a kiss, suddenly forgot it all, eyes stuck to his stupid mobile.
A guy who loved my conti-dishes – I only knew fancy stuff, not the dal-roti-subzi dishes – barely nibbled his food, forever preoccupied with social media or friends discussing WC-related rubbish! A guy, who was so exciting and adventurous in bed, hardly ever indulged and the most awful fall-out of all was when, in deep sleep, I was awoken with a start to his yelling BOWLED! CATCH IT! INDIA! INDIA!
Now with India out of the World Cup, I can only hope and pray that ‘My Kohli’ gets back his lost mojo to perform his role as a husband and emulates the range and variety of strokes of his more illustrious namesake and take our team to a new high!
As a victim today, I can only say thank god that the next WC is four years away. It can be truly injurious to heart, mind and body of any creature who doesn’t salivate to the sound of HOWZZATT, cartwheels with joy at the fall of an opponent’s wicket or out-Devdas, Devdas in tragic gloom when his team is heading south.
Thank you New Zealand ... and love you to the moon and back, Shri Guptill!!