Does date night really work?

Megha Abraham | Feature Writer
In 2007, my now-husband Adhitya proposed to me on the 13th of February in order to skirt the Valentine’s Day cliché under the guise of an ‘office party’. These loveable attempts at subterfuge waned to a trickle in 2009 and we eventually fell into a comfortable amble, which I’ve been extremely thankful for.

At the risk of sounding jaded, I’ve never made much ado about date nights, candlelit dinners, or unannounced holidays. He went all out during our little courtship dance and once I knew we’d end up together, we settled for quiet dinners and watching art house movies before bed. Yes, almost every day and yes, we both enjoy it.

Interestingly enough, we do make the odd attempt to indulge our craving for sappy overtures, which is a curious mix of luck, timing, and black comedy. Most often, these memorable little projects bring us closer (even peeling back a few layers for cathartic measure)! For us, date night or anything spent as a couple is an in-depth personality study, a mad adventure and a lot of laughs. Our ‘planned’ getaway last weekend was no different.

There were four of us in the car, Adhitya, two of his buddies from work, and me. ‘Our’ weekend was to be spent at a charming resort in Hatta, overlooking the majestic Hajjar Mountains. The hour-long drive peppered with acidic comments about each other’s sense of direction was soon soothed by sickly-sweet passion fruit and mango juice and a quick check-in.

So this is what it’s come to, I thought to myself. I’m no longer the focus here. So be it. I decided it was time that I took back ‘my’ weekend and swiftly transformed my sullen silence into an enthusiastic offer of friendship by means of conversation. The colleagues were pleasantly surprised.

In our charming chalet-styled room with a beautiful view, my husband’s co-workers were welcomed to music wafting from our Bluetooth speakers, expertly mixed beverages, and ‘expertly-ordered snacks’ to avoid mini-bar burglary! I talked as I unpacked, while Adhitya and Co. settled in on the couch; we expounded on office politics, sports, and the odd current affair. I leafed through magazines and read out interesting snippets. We talked about it and laughed. I slumped into a welcome coma of sleep, and later when the boys invited me to check out the resort’s many wonders, I accepted.

From then on, our weekend changed. Magically so. There was a rather invigorating game of table tennis with my husband, which switched to table ice hockey. Our exploratory trek around the property was filled with wit, fast facts and insightful man-comments, which I sportingly indulged in. By twilight, I was genuinely smiling as we ordered our pre-dinner drinks.

As l looked over to Adhitya, I realised my efforts would bring in long-term returns. The rewards of patience kicked in post-dinner, when he denied the invitation to watch sports with the boys. We took the longest walk back to the room, chatting all the way. Our conversation continued out on the balcony and we then watched a movie surrounded by a mountain of blankets and hot tea. It was one of the rarest moments of quiet between us.

As I settled in with what was my nth cup of ‘chai’. Adhitya spoke: “Thanks…” he said quietly. “You’re welcome,” I said. Yes, breakfast was awesome.

 

Chiranti Sengupta | Feature Writer
There were no candles, no music in the background, no bouquets and no gifts. The need for this very unlikely date (if you can call it one) came from one strong desire: to wrangle some kids-free time for ourselves, away from our responsibilities as parents.

As the parents of five-year-old twins and a playful one-year-old, romance had already taken a back seat: whenever we’re together we talk about kids, and then about the kids again — but never about us. It was a Saturday, the last day of the precious two-day weekend, when we are expected to finish off our weekly chores and prepare to usher in another hectic week. Instead, this is how the day began: on an impulse, the other half and I decided, at the breakfast table, to head out for a long drive. After fielding a volley of questions from the kids, we finally managed to convince the curious, and perhaps suspicious, five-year-olds that we were indeed heading out and everything would be all right.

Without any plans on how to spend those valuable few hours that we managed to extract for ourselves, hubby started the car. “Where?” I asked. “Somewhere”, he replied. We went for one of those typical long drives on the new Dubai-Kalba highway. We drove past the barren sand dunes that changed into a deeper tinge of orange the further we got from the city. Occasional herds of camels, the odd car whizzing past, the undulating highway ahead of us as we drove closer towards the East Coast all helped break the monotony of the drive.

But for some reason it wasn’t much of a full-focus date. We weren’t turning our heads to check if the kids had their seat belts on, play music according to their preferences nor mediate in their never-ending fights but it felt quite different without them. For instance, lofty conversations about the sand, stars and the sun ended with reminders to buy sun-screen lotion for the kids. En route, we stopped at a restaurant to grab a quick lunch: the clock was ticking and our guilt at leaving the kids behind began to cloud in. We were home by late afternoon. The escapade was short and unplanned. But it was fun and surprisingly refreshing. We finally had the time to talk about us, something we’d almost forgot to do in the last five years. We also talked about children and called home several times to check if they were all right. No matter what the relationship gurus suggest for a perfect date, we failed to dissociate our lives as a couple from our lives as parents. Perhaps that’s the blessing of being parents.

And here’s what the dear hubby thought about the impromptu adventure: “Short, sweet and refreshing, but next time around we’ll make sure the kids brigade is part of the date experience as well.” Utterly outrageous!

 

Adrienne Harebottle | Special to GN Focus
Check the alarm clock in a panic, frantically plough through the wardrobe for something to wear before darting off into the bathroom. Get out of the shower, teeth sparkling, and it’s wake-up-hubby phase one. Get dressed quickly and then get the coffee going. Wake-up-hubby phase two. Dog leash in hand, call the pooch and we’re out the door for our morning walkies. Come back and engage phase 3: “Get out of that bed — we’re leaving in five minutes!”

The repetition of married life isn’t too exciting. Sure, I’m still amused by how my husband of four-and-a-half years manages to get ready for work in just over three minutes. But our daily routine is mundane. How did two unconventional people become so ordinary? Rush to work, survive the busy day, then sit in traffic to get home. Are we really eager to solve the mystery of whether it’ll be chicken or beef for dinner? Or the tepid debate of which sub-standard sitcom we’re going to watch on the telly?

Yes, it can be dull. So we decided to spice things up. Thinking back to the last time I went on a date made me chuckle. Of course, we go out. There’s dinners, movies, parties and the occasional clubbing. But are those dates? Well, there’s no real girly-panic as to what I’ll wear. I don’t wonder which lingerie to pull out — whatever comes out first is the winner. And when we get home, we’re trying to get enough shut-eye to handle the next day’s boring schedule.

This date has to be different. It has to be an actual date. Getting ready to go out did make me wonder if I was being silly. Was I silly enough to be feeling nervous? What could I wear to make this night different? Was he going to make an effort?
Seeing as ‘different’ was the name of the game, I was going to meet him there. Sitting in the cab, I blushed at how nervous I felt. Was it nervousness or excitement?

He booked a table at Malecon; we’d never eaten there. Cuban fusion flavours seemed to do the trick. We were both fired up and having a good time. I knew I looked great even before he stared at me smiling, but hearing him saying so made me smile back. He looked really good, too. He pulled out one of his best suit jackets and decided to ditch his perennial torn-jeans-and-sneakers look.

Before we knew it, it was after two in the morning. Imagine, the two of us having fun alone until 2am. No TV, no BBMs to keep us amused, just the two of us laughing, dancing and having a good time. The next morning was, of course, hellish. But was it all worth it? You bet it was. Why not try it? Find the time, make the effort, pull out those killer heels, pout your hot pink lips, and go on a date. Date night is definitely my new favourite thing!