The way we are

I was reading Red’s post and the comments on it. I clutched the left side of my stomach to alleviate the pain from laughing .Men; I tell you. But suddenly I realized I wanted men to be the way they are. Why? So that I can nag them. After all nagging acts as an anti-depressant in many women.

On days I return home late I am no less bitchy than Rohini Hathangadi’s character in Chaalbaaz .I mean you work like a slave and then travel an hour and a half to home, come on, give that to me, I should be depressed. Even if you don’t agree I am .Now that you are familiar with my general mood on days like that read on about the imaginary account of an evening like that.

I must’ve sinned so badly last time, why else would I end up in this lousy job? Why else would I be miles away from my family? Most importantly why should I have a home which looks like an infant day care by the end of the work week? It is not my fault. The baby boy in the house is to be blamed.

I know what awaits me when I enter the house. Clothes strewn over the hall as if they themselves will walk and make their way to the washing machine. Filthy kitchen with dishes piled to top. The “baby boy” of the house lounged in front of the idiot box like the house cat in some face book video I saw last week.

I struggle through office juggle through house work and all I get is this!!! May be getting married was a mistake.

I open the door half expecting the blare of the idiot box.No.Nothing.It’s peaceful. I look at the shoe stand, everything in place .No; there are not any filthy socks hiding in the shoes. Bewilderment would’ve been an understatement. The clothes are in washing machine. Even the cushions are in place, tucked neatly in order.

Ha! I’m sure the kitchen is filthy .Men; they are lousy when it comes to dishes.

“Booom Daaam” .That my readers, was my heart .The food is cooked and neatly placed in one corner. The kitchen sink is clean, the vessels washed and dried. The kitchen emanates a pleasant smell of spices. Is this my own home? Did I get into the wrong house?

I hear a cacophony in the bathroom. I recognize the unmistakable source of the cacophony. So this is my home indeed. I am actually a little happy. I snort for the effect. I know he would be showering with out using soap. Don’t ask me the logic. Apparently when women use the words shower and bath interchangeably, men don’t. Shower doesn’t necessarily include the usage of soap or rigorous scrubbing. But then, now that you are in the bathroom stripped and under the shower why not use some soap? Beats me.

I patiently wait for the red carpet arrival of the city-cave-man. I had to talk to him to about the importance of soap in a marital life. Much to my dismay he comes out in a fresh shirt and shorts, smiling, smelling of “Chandrika” soap. I cross my brows in disappointment. How could he deny me the simple pleasure of nagging him?

“Long day eh? I’ve kept the geyser on. Go take a bath. I’ll keep dinner ready by the time you come out. Want some wine?”

I want to scream. I refrain. I say grumpily,” No, I don’t drink on workdays and especially on Wednesdays.” I wait for him to remind me of the bottle I finished yesterday. “

“Okay.” I can only sigh at the non-provocative remark.

I take a long bath and have my dinner in silence. I wait for him to say something so that I can snap. No, he doesn’t fall for it. The man has finally learned when to keep his mouth shut.

After dinner he offers to clean up. Another lost chance at nagging. I am tucked in to bed and he sleeps at his side of the bed .I am frustrated .I was waiting to take it out on him and here he was not giving me a chance.

“Khurrr Khurr Khurr.” I sit up in the bed and shout.” How many times have I told you not to snore! I cannot sleep. I cannot sleep at all .I have to work in office late and I don’t get a peaceful moment of sleep.”

That felt so much better .I slide to a dreamless slumber.

P: S: I am far from perfect .Yet I nag my husband on mundane things. Over the last two years we have fallen into a rhythm. Now there are lesser things to fight about. We understand each other in some strange ways. Women like to nag and at times I feel men like to be nagged too. And yeah, I wish my house looks like the way I have described when I get back from work.

The Wish Boon - III

Here is part one and part two.

Morning

I wake up late.Everyday.Dreams or no dreams. I snooze my alarm so much that now the button bears an uncanny resemblance to a worn out Hawaii chappals [flip flops are too classy a comparison].

This morning also I woke up late. There was an ominous meeting in the morning with a client who has a million issues in his life. Sometimes the way he speaks to me I feel he holds me responsible for all the issues in his life including the current state of the world economy. [My disaster wreck range is limited to my kitchen; world economy is a far cry. Let’s not digress]

To add to the chaos in my life, it was raining (it still is raining as I write this); raining cats and dogs (and dinosaurs as well if you want to add). And in Singapore there is no way you are going to get a cab on a rainy day. It is as if all the 30,000 cabs on this small country are out ferrying people across the island and I never ever manage to come in the top 30,000 who struggle to get hold of one.

But I don’t give up [Sleepy head? Yes, but quitter is definitely not my middle name]. What if today happens to be my lucky day? I try sms- a-cab and call-a-cab. No response at all. One SMS and one call wasted. Not a great way to start the day, I know, there is no need to rub it in.

I do a hop, skip and jump to the nearest bus stop and wait for the bus.

”Oh! God please please let me be on time.” I wished,”Yeah, right like it is going to come true.” All around me I could see the cabs with the big red lights “HIRED”/”ON CALL”

Sigh.Sigh.Check watch.Sigh.Sigh.

And out of the blue, a “HIRED” taxi stopped in front of me. A young girl got out of the cab and the driver smiled at me “Hop in madam, where can I take you this morning?”

So I guess that was one down. Four more to go…

The Wish Boon - II

Wait Wait.Did you read the part I ? Yes,then continue.Else,here it is.

My eyes pop out. I blurt.” Do you show ads of investment banking up there as well?”

"No. But we do outsource the terms and conditions and other legalities to Hell. They have most of the excellent bankers there."

“The terms and conditions are very simple. We have decided to be a little careful on stuff like these. A lot many boon-givers have ended in trouble. You give a mortal a boon and for all you know the next minute they’ll come with a battalion to take over heaven. Then I have to go and personally beg to the ‘Holy Trinity’ to fix the mess up.” He explained.

“Rule #1: You cannot cause harm to anyone. Mortal or Immortal.Fatal, serious or otherwise.” He declared.

(Damn! My ex-lovers just escaped. All the plans of revenge I made in the last ten minutes are sloshed)

I sighed.

“Honey, is there a problem or can I read Rule #2?” I thought I saw concern in his deep blue eyes.

“Don’t ‘honey’ me. It doesn’t matter. How many more these stupid rules do you have?” the disappointed me asked.

“Oh! Just four more rules and you are ready to go.” He checked his iPhone look-alike instrument and confirmed.

“Rule # 2: You cannot ask for extension of life or anything that relates to postponing death.” He added gravely,” See, God doesn’t control the ministry of “Death and Affairs of Hell”. It is run by an independent guy who does not like recommendations. And trust me you don’t want to question a man who rides a buffalo and calls himself Dharma Raj, not even when you are God.

“Rule # 3: You cannot ask for physical movement of any matter.’ Bring Alps to middle of Singapore’ or ‘Bring me the crown of Queen of England’. Honestly, if you ask me, such requests are absurd.”

“Rule # 4: Don’t bother to ask for changing emotions.” Archangel looked up,” It’s so melodramatic if you ask me. Oh God! Let there be peace! Mortals I tell you.Heehehhehooohooo.”

 [heehaahoo continued for sometime. I did feel like pulling his white beard real hard. I did not find anything funny about asking for world peace. Did you?]

He said wiping imaginary tears,” If God wanted peace he would have it on earth no matter how many crank pots are here. It’s a bigger conspiracy. I shan’t tell you what it is. It has something to do with divine retribution.”

[Yeah right!]

“The last and final Rule #5: The God’s decision is final and no correspondence will be entered into.” He looks up at me,” Am I clear young lady? And please use your wishes wisely.” 

Poooofffff.Splurttt.Dyooooom.ZZZssssss...

And just like that he was gone.” Whatever” I murmured to self and pulled the blanket over me.

(To be Continued...) 

The Wish Boon - I

 (This is the first part of a short story.It has no moral or educational value.:-D)

Night

I had a dream, a beautiful dream. Archangel Gabriel came to me and told me.” Child, You have been chosen to be given a special package of fives wishes per day?” Smiling benevolently he looked in to my eyes. A puzzled me couldn’t keep the sarcasm away.

”Oh you mean to say that I’m getting a chance to redeem all my wishes at a rate of five per day which weren’t heard or fulfilled??” (I’m at my sarcastic best when someone interrupts my sweet slumber. And I don’t give a damn even if it’s Archangel Gabby himself!)

After all how many nights had I spent crying waiting for Him to grant me “that-one-and-only-just-this-time” wishes? Remembering those eves of exams and my heart wrenching pleas to which He had turned a blind eye and revealed the same by question papers which never failed to amaze me by their adequacy in covering all the portions I had skipped, I seethed in unabashed anger. Now when I’m ancient and exams are a thing of Napoleons time here cometh the package. I skewed my eyebrows at God’s marketing manager.

”Well, what this is for? And before we digress, most importantly, why now?”

The clever manager smiled “You seem to be the one with highest number of wishes unanswered. All your wishes were errr...err…re-routed to the deep black sea of souls by a tiny naughty perpetrator.”

Archangel positioned his arms to demo a baby sized villain,” Now when he was caught by his tails and questioned rather mildly he told us the truth. And God wanted to compensate for all that.”

“Whoa. That’s what happened to my wishes. And I hope this doesn’t happen to anyone else.”

“Never. We have declared that anyone caught doing such unscrupulous activities would be barred from having Fried Mars Bar In Ice-cream dessert for the rest of their lives.” Giving a quick glance around and lowering his voice Gabby added.” These celestial creatures are too corrupt I tell you. You don’t get it in heaven doesn’t matter. They smuggle it from hell. Everything is cheap there. It’s quite amusing their methods of working.”

"Ehem Ehem.” Gabby cleared his throat a tad too loudly and continued,” Now to the terms and conditions."

(To be continued)