Imagine a world where societal roles were flipped, and the ideal “trophy husband” took centrestage. This husband would rise at dawn, brewing fresh chai and serving it with a cheerful smile to his in-laws, delighted to dedicate his life to their comfort. The household would function like a finely-tuned machine—laundry folded immaculately, groceries replenished before anyone noticed, and the children’s lunchboxes transformed into culinary masterpieces.
He would never question why his wife needed late nights at work or frequent coffee meetings with old flames. Instead, he’d understand that her ambition was for the greater good. In his spare time (if such a thing were permitted), he would work tirelessly on his fitness, ensuring he remained perpetually attractive and pleasing to her eye.
The ideal trophy husband would dutifully maintain relationships with his wife’s parents, calling daily to check on their health and patiently listening to their grievances about nosy neighbours. Festivals would become his domain—Diwali lights strung up with precision, the Christmas tree adorned beautifully, and every celebration executed flawlessly. He would remember every relative’s birthday, pick thoughtful gifts, and never dare spend a rupee or dollar on himself.
In moments of conflict, should his wife lose her temper and hit him in frustration, he would quietly accept it, offering her tea or coffee as an olive branch. His loyalty would be unwavering, even if her commitment occasionally wavered. His emotional resilience would be legendary, bearing criticism from his in-laws for trivial matters like slightly undercooked chapatis or insufficiently folded laundry.
Fasting for his wife’s long life would be a matter of pride. Karva Chauth would see him gazing at the moon through a sieve, a Bollywood-worthy expression of devotion on his face. And if his wife forgot to mention she’d be late for dinner, he would quietly fast longer, grateful for the opportunity to show his love.
At family gatherings, he would seamlessly juggle the roles of host and helper—serving food, cleaning dishes, and staying in the background while his wife entertained relatives. Should anyone question him about his workload, he’d respond with a humble smile, insisting it was his duty and privilege.
Of course, this trophy husband wouldn’t dream of asking for time to himself. Should he express such a desire, his wife would gently remind him of the sacrifices she made for their family. He’d respond with profuse apologies, likely offering to bake her favourite dessert as penance.
In addition to his household duties, he’d ensure the children were culturally well-rounded, teaching them Sanskrit shlokas while simultaneously researching the best international schools. His social media would be filled with motivational family quotes, showcasing his unwavering commitment to traditional values.
This world of reversed roles paints a vivid picture of the perfect trophy husband: endlessly forgiving, perpetually devoted, and completely self-sacrificing. Society would, of course, celebrate him for his unwavering commitment to the family—just as much as it currently celebrates trophy wives.
Because really, what’s not to admire about a man who does it all, looks perfect doing it, and never expects anything in return?
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