Behind every broken family is a woman. Behind every broken friendship is a woman.  But behind every broken hope of reparation is always a man who couldn’t take a stand for her. Thus begins a tale of 1500 square feet! 

Karan Johar’s Alia Bhatt had just started her career in the film industry. Born with a silver spoon, the nepo-kid invited the envy of disgruntled struggling actors for not having to go through even an iota of what they have been to lap a big debut. But Alias aren’t only in the film industry. For a burnt and beaten man, every woman is Alia who push their husband to the edge of their pay check. 

 While Alia made the Rajput King, Prithvi Raj Chauhan the President of India, I had the audacity to call 1500 square feet small in Bengaluru. And I didn’t stop there. I had yet to enter the pub and bathe myself in the holy water.  Yet to taste the dual rigours of  marriage and career, I was daring to dream big sitting on my husband’s shoulder. But, it was my day one in Bengaluru as a dreamer with ambitions who was prepared to grind, not ready to settle yet. And it was my day one as a wife too with a compatibility of a crow in a cuckoo’s nest. 

Though trolled, Imtiaz Ali brought out the star in Alia eventually. Whereas I had to be my own Imtiaz Ali because I was being high- handed, indifferent and overstretching my husband on the household front for a dependent. Had my husband called it small, his high-handedness would have garnered praise, a show of masculinity. Bogged down by boo-hoos, I nearly guilted myself into submission only to find that my husband and I didn’t share similar ideals behind 1500 square feet irrespective the size.  It was the start of a frustrating battle.

Truth be told, 1500 square feet changed meaning each passing day. As I got older in married life, l stopped wishing for it anymore. 1500 square feet became a feeling, a metaphor to be happy and whole and I was chasing that. Before a bigger house, I wanted us to be happy, not at the cost of each other but for the sake of each other. I wanted us to be compatible before placing the bricks one by one to a stronger  and safer future. Eventually, we stumbled upon one. But he was having a hard time. 

He missed his friends. The trips. The weekends- this was his 1500 square feet. 

It was a tough call for him before signing a check for the booking amount. Though he did, i could feel a hint of resentment for changing the dynamics. Post marriage, we were both in the transitory phase. I didn’t miss any friend because there were none. It was easy for me to be objective and set my priorities straight. But, I was overly reliable on him for the missing pieces and a tad bit desperate to find my alter ego. In the end, like him, I was also looking for a friend. Marriage starts after a point in life and later kind of overshadows friendship; but we all begin as friends, not as couples since kindergarten. One has to learn and relearn to live with a life partner but never with a friend for it doesn’t carry the complexity of balancing the two sides. So when you grow tired of the balancing act, you just look for a friend to unwind. His one signature had me fallen out of the good books of many which I doubt I ever was. But I needed to be whole and complete. A good society will give me a good start as I did not have the experience of studying and living in a metropolitan- the urban India, outgrowing itself each day. Though, I couldn’t go back to being a student (kind of still am), it will be my chance to match paces with the outside world; a chance to grow. 

After the signature, the real game of juggling the finances began! My husband, born without a sliver spoon, built his company from scratch, lost on the loan front for being young in the entrepreneurial landscape. I had been frustrated with myself for being average since the tender schooling years. It has, thus, been a relentless pursuit to not die the same. Struggling to find my worth, the buzzing economy did not favour Humanities. Though I tried,  I was too impatient to learn a new skill. I was no where in the land of engineers, MBAs, stock traders and accountants. 

Even though his heart was not into it, his conditioned brain functioned to fulfil the role of the provider; sometimes losing sleep over the stress of an impending EMI. I was getting buried deeper into guilt month by month. We didn’t share the dream and it felt like he was paying for my dreams which I am incapable to fulfil monetarily. Though my heart was in the right place, I was that tyrant father who pushed his son into B.Tech seemingly to secure his future. 

Somewhere the invisible hand intervened. One day, the chips fell into place. His face lit up and so did mine. Today, we both have one of each whom we can call a friend and it really doesn’t matter how it started but how we end up. I have never stopped missing that recklessly tactless girl who called 1500 square feet small. If needed, I will reincarnate her. But, this 1500 square feet will always be mine.