A wife talk to her friend, about her husband

Hi Seema, how are you? Hopefully, all the preparations for the shift to the new house have been completed, and this will be your last day in the last long, triangular house in this closed street. You are fortunate to have a husband who obeys you and follows your advice.

 I wish all the men in the world would be so smart, but I have seen one thing from this experience of marriage that an office worker knows about different people's lives when he interacts with different people in his day job.

 So he chooses good, good things from them and keeps them in his mind, and when needed, he tries to apply these things in his life as well, which leads to innovation and variety in domestic life, but one we Are and our luck! 

Ask us; we are the ones who did not get the office. I don't know what time it was when my mother, father, though I was a software engineer and married me to this kind of digital contractor. I found out later that he has the disease of freelancing and the disease is also on his own. Hi Sammy! What can I say? All my dreams have been shattered.

 There is no fun in making breakfast or eating dinner. Sometimes breakfast is served at 12 o'clock in the morning, and sometimes dinner is served at midnight. Living with them, I now think that maybe I got sick too. His room is his office, and ten, fifteen cups of tea a day are his clients, and we, we are nothing more than a house servant robot.

 Life here is not on the right track, so innovation and variety aside. My ears were frustrated, hoping to hear the noise of early breakfast at home at seven in the morning. They ask me for shoes, a tie, and my watch, and I'll give them a lunch box as they go, but there's no such thing as the hustle and bustle here and no classic routine in this freelancing cycle. ۔

 If I remind you of the story before marriage, your hair will stand on end. It was only yesterday that I took a cup of tea into the room and was heartbroken to see that his temper had increased to such an extent that he had to remove his keyboard drawer to get out of his chair and take it out first. Fell and then he stood up. 

He has accumulated so much fat around his stomach and hips that my heart wants me to hug Ghazala and cry. My pride was shattered. When my father was a government employee, Sunday was Eid in our house. Everyone used to celebrate the moonlit night of the week and go to bed late at night after watching the movie at 9 p.m., and then in the morning, you will also remember that one day you also stayed with us.

 After a light, light breakfast, a hearty roasted liver, a pot of butter, a loaf of ghee, a salad of fresh green cucumbers, and cold raita of roasted cumin is prepared for lunch. And that was because, six days a week, Dad would have a holiday, so everyone would sit on one seat and have lunch but Seema! 

It is possible to be here for three years, except for the first three or four months of marriage, if they have ever bothered to leave their computer room. They consider the job as blasphemy and sit there to earn dollars by becoming the British's puppets. 

If anyone asks a question, they say that such a job cannot be earned. Sima! They indeed earn good money, but my aunt explained that not only money but also emotions are crucial for living. Let me pickle the money that took our youth away from us and made our home office. No! If you sit down to tell your own grievances, the papers of the world will fall short.

 One day you will go around the house, and I will tell you everything. Maybe the peace of mind is a little less; otherwise, he wants to pass by putting the wires attached to the computer around his neck. I think you will come on Sunday only because fortunately Brother John will have a day off from work. 

This is even better. I will arrange lunch, and under the same pretext, I will also have the equipment to celebrate Sunday. May Allah keep you happy and keep the job of brother John safe. Amen