A Suspicious Wife and The Ghost of Sunny Leone

Warning : Contains some inappropriate content. Righteous exit here itself

Velu and Selvi have been married for the past 10 years and are blessed with a 9 year old daughter named Sharanya. There is never a dull moment in their household; either there is bubbling happiness or Selvi’s stereophonic screams coming out of their home. Velu goes mute when Selvi tests out her vocal chords.

Their home, by the way, was a double storied structure. They stayed in the second floor and the other two floors were let out. The main villain in this story is the windowpane of arc shaped window in the hall. During the evenings, It seemed that his window pane has a naughty mind of its own and often created optical illusions to a person coming from outside. If Selvi was kneading batter for poori while watching TV, to the person outside it would look like she was strangulating someone.  If Velu was bending and picking up a glass on the floor to hand it to Selvi, it would look like he was touching her feet. They wanted to change the windowpane but could not get a carpenter to do this small work.

Velu worked somewhere; even I have no idea where he works. The most important thing is he made enough money to pay all his EMIs; pay for his daughter’s education, save money and of course could beat the inflation to eat, dress, commute and pay for Selvi’s mobile recharge.  Selvi was a homemaker. She watched TV, talked on her mobile and when she was bored of both, used to cook. All the other works at home were taken care of by Shantha, the 70 year old housemaid.

Theirs was an arranged marriage. Yes, Velu had agreed for his marriage to be arranged with Selvi, because his father had arranged to donate his property to an old age home, if Velu insisted on marrying Maria who was neither from their caste, religion, language, state or even country. Maria was a French girl.

Velu and Selvi got married and they had a kid within the statutory breeding period permissible for an Indian couple i.e. one year. Selvi was a Typical Tamil Ponnu (girl), she would insist on going to Murugan temple on a cold morning when Velu wanted to make love. You know; when it comes to such things wives always win.

Selvi knew of Velu’s past, in fact he himself had confessed of his relationship with Maria. Velu is one of those perfect MIS husbands. Velu could not keep any secret from his wife and that got him into marital trouble more often than not. Velu would inform his wife even if a good looking female bumped him into him in the office elevator. For the next few days, Selvi would keep looking for lipstick marks/hair strands/perfume fragrance on every portion of his covered body, which can be scanned by the naked eye. Velu despite all his perversions never cheated on his wife. Selvi knew this but always kept him on a tight leash.  However, the only woman whom Selvi could be sure of in Velu’s company was Shantha. Shantha in the past had busted a few husbands who were double timing their wife. She had great regards for Selvi because unlike other ladies in the street she did not wear jeans or bannian (that was what she felt of tops) but was always dressed like a Typical Tamil Ponnu.

It was in this scenario Poonam, a divorcee came to stay next door with her five year old daughter Prerana. Poonam was a fashion model and now an event coordinator. She had all the charm which would make even the most resolute man lose his peace every time he saw her and needless to say about Velu’s reaction, he was in awe of her.

Though Selvi liked Poonam, she was always suspicious of her husband’s intentions. Selvi hated the way Poonam ate any fruit especially a mango. She would wade into it and make sounds similar to Sunny Leone. Yeah, Selvi once in a while checked into Velu’s laptop to see what he was up to and once noticed it had a folder, Sunny’s Best. Presuming, it was about Sunny Gavaskar, the batsman, she opened the folder and needless to say she was not impressed with the skills of this Sunny. She did give Velu a mouthful about what she felt about his tastes. However, that did not deter him from regularly updating that folder.

Poonam thought very high of Velu as a person though she knew that he was a roving eye. After this admiration was expressed to Selvi, she became suspicious of the relationship between Velu and Poonam. She stopped going even to her native place. The best laid plans of mice and men (at times even women) go awry. Selvi’s grandmother who was vibrantly alive unknowingly stomped on a vibrant high tension wire and got electrocuted. Worried about leaving Velu alone with Poonam, Selvi rushed to her native place only when he agreed to accompany her. She also convinced him to stay back till the obsequies ceremony was over.

Within a period of 5 days, fate for the second time played spoilsport with Selvi’s marital security. On the fourth day night, Velu received an urgent call from his office and had to leave for Bangalore. Selvi was desperate to follow him but religious customs prevented her. She could not walk up to her parents and say `I am suspicious of your son-in-law’s relationship with that Chikni Chameli Poonam and can’t leave him alone in Bangalore’. This would cause a huge turmoil in the family which was already saddened by a death. Even before Velu could reach the village bus stop, she started getting images of Poonam romping with him in the bed.

The world seemed to be crashing on Selvi’s head but as they say nothing is impossible for an individual in danger. Remember Archimedes? Selvi knew that Velu had a stomach which was as solid as ice cream at 40 degrees Celsius and a week of hotel food would mean keeping the ice cream in a microwave oven at 250 degree Celsius for a week. The only thing he could cook was to boil water. Shantha cooked for her whenever she was ill. However since her house was far away, she insisted on staying back if she cooked dinner. Selvi had hatched a master plan and wanted to jump for joy but she controlled herself. She called up Shantha and on picking the phone Shantha in Tamil said `medem, I am sorry your grandmother died’

Selvi in a sobbing tone replied `Shantha, there is a bigger problem and only you can help me’

Shantha `aiyoo, why such big words?  Tell me ma, you are like my daughter’

Selvi `my husband is coming back to Bangalore because he has some important office work and you know he cannot eat hotel food. I want you to cook for him breakfast and dinner for a week. I will pay you how much ever you want’

Shantha `that’s all, I will do it but you know when I cook dinner I will stay back at your home’

Selvi gleefully `no problem…no problem… you can… you can’

Shantha `then don’t worry, I will stay at your home and take care of him for a week’

Selvi ended the call feeling as happy as a convict who gets Presidential pardon on the night before he is to be hanged. She knew with Shantha around, Velu and Poonam could not go ahead with their clandestine plans.

When Velu reached home, he was surprised to see Shantha at his door step. When he came to know of Selvi’s deal, he happily agreed and had no problem with Shantha staying back in his home for a week.

Selvi used to call up Shantha everyday just to ensure that her instructions of cooking breakfast and dinner for Velu were being complied with and most importantly the overnight stay. Finally, the obsequies ceremony was over and Selvi happily returned home by the Sunday morning bus. However, she did not inform Velu and wanted to surprise him. The bus reached Bangalore three hours late. They got down on main road and walked towards home. Two hundred yards away, she saw Shantha having tea at a nearby hotel.

Shantha came and voluntarily talked to her and said `Poonam madam had come home an hour back. Both of them were discussing about English movies. I was getting bored so came out’.

Selvi thought in her mind `could it be Sunny Leone movies?’. She asked Shantha `did she come home every night?’

Shantha `No ma, she is so busy, only today she came’

Selvi was definite about what would have happened after Shantha had left. She left Sharnaya in her friend’s house to ask for school notes, so that she does not see any thing ugly and rushed home. From a distance, she could see through the naughty hall windowpane, shadow of a woman bending down and a male shadow standing in front of the female shadow and frequently trying to put his head up and down. Selvi forget about the hazy shadows that the window gave, she could only remember Sunny Leone videos. Much more horrifying was the fact that the main door was open. How shameless both could get, she thought, what would have happened if Shantha came back? She wanted to catch them red handed so she croutched and slowly walked up the stairs. As she got near, she could hear Poonam saying “hmmm… tasty….wow….ahhhhh. I never had anything tasty like this in my life’. She could not take it any longer, took the broom in the balcony and rushed into the open door and the sight she got was shocking.  Prerana was playing on the floor with Sharanya’s dolls, Poonam having a mango in her own style and Velu uncorking a Dettol bottle.

Poonam saw Selvi and jokingly commented `what a sweeping entry’ Selvi embarrassed said `he, he, he you know I always want the house clean. By the by, what are you doing here?’

Poonam `This Dettol bottle was not opening. Velu has such a tight grip, so I thought I will take his help but he too is struggling. Meanwhile he offered me this really tasty mangoes and I was eating them’

Selvi sarcastically asked `will you never slice and have a mango?’

Poonam `No, I have slice only when it is not the mango season’

Selvi and Poonam laughed it off. Velu had understood what was going on in Selvi’s mind and he laughed the loudest.

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A Gentleman Suicide - a short story

This is the first time I am writing a short story of this length (approximately 4000 words). I have ended the story with a tinge of humour. There may be a lot of shortcomings in the short story both grammatical and content wise. I am looking forward to your critical assessments. Here goes the story.

A LIFE IS TOO PRECIOUS TO BE LOST BY A SUICIDE

The venue was campus of the NGO `Rehabilitate’.  It was a proud day for the NGO as the first batch of 25 slum children whom they had adopted and housed in their campus had completed their intermediate and getting ready to take their next step in life. The NGO had a total of 300 students under its care. Their financial commitments are being met by a software boss who is renowned for his philanthropic activities across the globe. He encouraged his employees to take part in the activities of the NGO as volunteers and Mitali is one of them. She frequently gave motivational talks to the students. Her talk had ended and the Q&A session was just about ending when a student got up and asked `Madam, at times I want to do some thing but I keep thinking about and don’t do it. Later, I feel bad that I did not do it. What to do about it?”  Mitali’s pink cheeks turned red as she remembered Rahul. Shrugging aside her thoughts, she replied `Such an attribute is called Procrastination. Most times it is bad’. With these words, Mitali ended her talk, wished the kids all the best and hurriedly left for her car. Procrastination all times is bad so the word most times does not make sense. It makes sense only to Mitali.

As Mitali drove out of the NGO, she reached the highway. It had all that a highway in India has or doesn’t have. It had a lot of restaurants en-route but fewer trees. It had well marked lanes but very motorists to respect them. It had an international standard road but pedestrians who had no common sense. Mitali was a rule abiding driver. Her flats `Whispering Meadows’ was on the left side, 20 kms away from the NGO. She stuck to lane discipline mindless of the honking behind her. Once in a while, an angry driver would overtake her and mouth an abuse or two but she remained calm. All of a sudden, she had to hit the breaks as hard as she could, to avoid running over a young lady by the proverbial inch. The `victim’ unmindful of what had happened crossed the road with the same grandeur as the Queen of England would have done in her heydays.

The incident shook up Mitali till she reached `Whispering Meadows’ and safely parked her car in the slot meant for I-909. The lift of her block was under maintenance and the lift mechanic in broken English told `Madam, two hours I keep lift here only for repair’. Mitali could have spent her time in the in-house cafeteria but she would have none of it and decided to walk up the stairs. Being a fitness freak, she had no problem striding up the steps. The staircase was well built with wide steps but it created a lot of blind corners. No matter how much we ridicule superstitions, we all have a few fears lurking in our mind.  Mitali the rationalist too had a similar sentiment about blind corners. She checked her sling bag and ensured that the dagger was still there. She was ready to stab Rahul just in case he popped out of a blind corner as he usually did. Rahul never popped out of any of the 18 blind corners and Mitali without committing a murder reached her flat.

Mitali stayed alone in her 2 bed room flat. She latched the door from behind, hurriedly went into her bedroom, opened the wardrobe, and took out the portrait of Rahul, put the music on and started yelling abuses invoking his name, every now and then stretching her middle finger. This was not how you expect an IT professional and a motivational speaker to behave but then Rahul could evoke extreme emotions in her. He had not cheated her but played havoc in her life with his procrastination.

After a few minutes of this ritual, she was tired and reached for the beer bottle in her fridge. She ordered an Italian meal from the nearby restaurant; ate it and fell on her bed with a thud. Mitali wanted to sleep but could not close her eyes. A Zillion images of Rahul flashed across whenever she tried to close her eyes. She logged on to Facebook from her mobile and searched for Rahul Singh. Profile of every Rahul Singh on Earth got listed except the one she wanted. Dejected, she put the mobile on silent mode, threw it across the bed and closed her eyes to sleep. Whenever Mitali remembered Rahul, sleep would come to her as quickly as sense would come to a drunkard or hope would come to a convict about to be hanged in a couple of hours or common sense would come to the member of a religious cult . She had to stay awake recollecting the bitter-sweet-bitter memories about him.

Mitali got up realizing the futility of trying to sleep and went to the balcony overlooking the lake besides her apartment and relaxed on the antique rocking chair. She remembered her first meeting with Rahul. Mitali had just completed her engineering and was recruited by a famous IT company in campus recruitment. It was the first day of her orientation program and the inaugural session was in the third floor of their sprawling campus. Mitali was a chirpy girl who loved striding up the stairs with gay abandon. Suddenly, she bumped into a huge mass of body and was falling over. She stretched her hand and shouted `hold me’.

The guy with a perplexed look, stretched his long hands, reached for her hips and for some reason withdrew with a `sorry, I did not see you coming’.

Mitali landed on her back but luckily escaped with a few bruises. She got up angrily and yelled at him `Dude, what the hell is wrong with you? Why did you hold me and then let me go?’

He replied `I thought you would be offended if I held you by the hip’.

Mitali’s rage went out of control `Which age have you come from? Get real; this is not an Eastman color movie. I would not have fallen in love with you, if you had held me by the hip’. Saying so, she got up and went back to her room to attend to her bruises.

Later, she came to know his name was Rahul, a topper from another college. Mitali concluded that all toppers must be dumb. This was her first meeting with Rahul. Rahul as Mitali noted was technically sound but when it came to social aspects was hopelessly bugged by indecisiveness. He took endlessly long time to decide on what to eat; what to wear, etc. Soon a few friends brokered peace between Rahul and Mitali. They took lot of pains to explain to Mitali that if procrastination had a face it would resemble Rahul. Before peace could prevail, Mitali gave him a lot of cold looks, the typical girlish winces, etc.

After peace was brokered, friendship bloomed between the two. Rahul could not avoid gazing at Mitali’s face and many a times she caught him in the act. Immediately, he would turn his face away and she would giggle.  All these had a stimulating effect of Rahul and he started loving Mitali. Mitali too started liking Rahul but she wanted him to be a man and propose to her. However, the favorite procrastination’s favourite son never proposed to Mitali.

Rahul’s procrastination powers were on display on the last day of the orientation program. Each participant had to pick a chit from the bowl and perform what was written in it. When Rahul’s turn came, he took a whole of five minutes pondering which chit to pick. Finally, Mitali picked it for him and Rahul spent another five minutes deciding which song to render.

The time to depart came. Rahul mustered enough courage, blocked Mitali who was going to her room and hesitantly said `can we be friends?’. Mitali shrugged him aside, giggled and walked away murmuring `what are we now?’. Rahul wanted to pull her, draw close to his chest, plant a kiss on her lips and assert `this is what I meant’. He could not muster enough courage to do so, not even to yell back `I love you’. He froze and the occasion was gone. He was posted for an offshore assignment and Mitali to the Hyderabad Centre. They could not meet again

A year down the line, Mitali changed jobs and moved over to Bangalore. Living alone in Bangalore was one of the reasons why Mitali had chosen IT Engineering. Bangalore had all that Mitali wanted a city to have. It has great weather (when compared to rest of the country); sprawling malls, multiplexes, pubs, bowling alleys and above all a single woman could feel safe in the city. Her credit card company made a lot of money. Her family which was based in Calcutta had a huge income and monthly used to send money to her. Thus, clearing debts was never a problem for Mitali.

Mitali soon fell in love with a colleague named Kumaran. He was tall, dark and handsome. Those were the only good things about him. In reality, he was a leech. All that mattered to him was Mitali’s body. Mitali realized it late but it is never too late to break free from a parasite. Mitali did just that. Heartbroken, she changed jobs and continued to trudge along.  

One weekend, a few of the girls from her first job met up and had a booze party in a resort. Priya her best friend just had a divorce after she discovered her husband making love to a shop attendant. She was drinking uncontrollably.

Mitali who was still in her senses, shrugged her shoulders and yelled `Priya, what are you doing to yourself? There is life beyond that idiot. Relax, things will get better’

Priya `what better? My life is over. I loved that a**h*** so much. Who should I live for? Men are all the same, they just want to bed female after female after female’

Mitali hugged her, caressing her hair said `don’t cry sweetheart, not all men are bad. A good guy will come into your life. Just that you have to recognize and not let him go’

Priya mockingly smiled and replied `Yeah, I should not be foolish like you were with Rahul’

Mitali’s face turned pale. She slapped Priya on her jaw and asked `where does Rahul come into this?’

Priya who was on a high pushed Mitali on the ground, got on top of her, gently strangulated her neck  and replied in an  annoying tone `Don’t tell me that you did not know that Rahul loved you for his life? Don’t tell me you did not know what Rahul meant when he asked you to be his friend? He was madly in love with you. He could not say it you and you did not want to understand. Now, he is staying with Neha in this very city. Go, f**k yourself’’. Saying so, she passed out.

Mitali managed to lift Priya with help of friends into her car and reached her flat. Next morning was tense. Priya was expecting Mitali to ask about Rahul and Mitali expecting Priya to give Rahul’s whereabouts. Neither was ready to give up their egos. Both were such genuine Urban Hypocrites.

Mitali always knew that Rahul loved her. It was just that she wanted him to come and say that to her. She was desperate to seek comfort in his arms but ego never allowed her to propose to him. Soon priorities of career and glamour of leading an independent life took over and she almost forgot Rahul. Mitali was sad about loosing Rahul but she was equally anguished about him living with Neha. Neha was Mitali’s senior at college. Neha was a man eater. Material progress was what she cared for. Even when they worked together, Neha’s personal life and her closeness with certain managers were constant topics of office gossip. She could not believe that Rahul and Neha can be a pair. Mitali knew Rahul will find a place in Neha’s equation only as long as a bigger multiple did not come in her predatory vision.

Mitali wanted to find Rahul but she did not know where to look for him and she did not want to ask Priya. Meanwhile, she was hoping that Rahul sees the true side of Neha and gets rid of her. Having seen both, Neha’s manipulating skills and Rahul’s lack of it, she knew it was wishful thinking. Life meandered along for a few weeks and it was one of those weekends, Mitali had gone for a movie and a bit of retail therapy. It was around 11 pm and she was strolling towards her car in the basement parking when she could see a huge shadow following her. Mitali was scared but decided to fight back. She took a sharp turn at one of those pillars, raised her legs with all the might she had and was about to kick the stalker on his box when for some reason she saw the face and it was Rahul. She could not stop the momentum but diverted the kick on his knees.

Rahul cried out `Ouch! What are you doing? I wanted to call you but then thought it would not be manners. So I thought I will get close and talk to you and see what you have done, almost rendered me impotent’

Mitali screeched back `you have not get rid of your f***in indecisiveness, have you? Anyways, how are you?’

From behind, the familiar sluttish voice of Neha spoke `Now that he is in my arms, never mind, very soon he will be as decisive as a scud missile’.

Mitali thought to herself `Hope a few months down the line, he does not get desperate to stand in front of a scud missile’.

Mitali pretending that she did not know about their relationship hugged Neha, kissed on her cheeks and whispered into her ears `Neha, what an unpleasant surprise? Anything happens to him I will kill you’.

Neha with a plastic smile whispered back `B***h to your heart’s content, he is my puppet’.

Soon Rahul walked up to them. Neha just to increase Mitali’s bitterness kissed Rahul on his lip. Mitali could not stand this sight. With all her civility intact, she exchanged mobile numbers with Rahul and walked away in a huff. Neither she called Rahul nor did he call her.

A few weeks after meeting Rahul, Neha got an offshore assignment for six months in London and went away. After six months she came back to India, only to learn from Priya that Neha had dumped Rahul after doing away with a good part of his bank account. Rahul was more hurt because she had dumped his love and in that sorrow had become an alcoholic. Even Priya did not know his whereabouts because he had sold his flat and went to stay in an unknown place. Mitali was shell shocked and barely had she settled down after hearing the news, her phone rang and it was Rahul. She picked up the call and he poured out all his woes. He ended the call by saying that he was going to commit suicide. Panic stricken she called back his number but by then the mobile was switched off.

MItali and Priya set out to find the whereabouts of Rahul. Without much strife, they found the company he worked for but he had resigned the job last month. Finally, they managed to find the paying guest accommodation where Rahul stayed but he had vacated a week ago. It was already 12 hours since Rahul called Mitali. There was every possibility that he would have committed suicide. They decided to check the various Government mortuaries in the city. No dead body matching the description of Rahul had arrived. The security guard in one of the mortuaries said at times dead bodies arrived three to four days after the suicide. Mitali nodded in agreement and stuck a few hundred rupee notes into his hands and asked him to call her in case any dead body matching Rahul arrived at his morgue. She went back to all the morgues she visited early and stuck a similar deal with the security guards over there too.

Two days passed, three days passed but no news. On the fourth day, she received a call from the security guard whom she bribed first, that body of a young man who had committed suicide four days ago, was brought to the morgue in a highly decomposed state. The body according to him matched with the specifications of Rahul. To add credibility to the claim was the fact that the deceased had committed suicide in a lodge around the same time Rahul had called Mitali. This was it and Mitali broke into an ocean of tears. No amount of consoling by Priya could control her. Priya drove along with Mitali to the hospital. She haphazardly parked the car and they rushed towards the morgue. On reaching, the security guard informed that the dead body belonged to a localite and his relatives had taken away the dead body. Mitali thanked her stars and walked back to the car. However, the thought lingered in her mind, what if Rahul had gone to another city and committed suicide? There was no answer for the question and she could not travel across length and breadth of the country trying to find Rahul’s dead body.

For the next few days, Mitali became an avid reader of the crime beat column in every newspaper. She started watching all the crime beat programmes on the Kannada channels though she could not understand much of the language. There was no news about Rahul. All that she could do was drown her thoughts by visiting an old age home nearby and serving the elderly over there. Time flies faster than we think and in matter off time it was three years since she had stopped finding Rahul’s dead body. Mitali had moved on but there was no place for any guy in her life. Priya meanwhile got married the second time and was happier than before.

In addition to her professional commitments, Mitali got associated with `Rehabilitate’. She also developed a fascination for collecting antiques. Rocking chairs, lamps, wall hangings, daggers and any antique she would buy.

It was on a Sunday, when she read in a tabloid that a unique antique shop had opened in a nearby mall. She wanted to buy a particular dagger which the shop claimed was from the Mughal period. She purchased the dagger and was walking towards the cafeteria nearby. From nowhere, Rahul popped out. Mitali was taken aback and instantly asked `Are you not dead?’

Rahul with a regretful face replied `No, I could not commit suicide’

Mitali in an enraged tone, gesticulating her right hand asked `and why did you not care to inform me? Do you know how much of pain I went through after the incident? I went around the town searching for your dead body in every dirty morgue. Scoundrel, why the f**k did you not inform me that you were alive?

Rahul `it took me a lot of time and travel to decide not to commit suicide’

Mitali with her eyebrows raised and hands on her hips quizzingly asked `WTF do you mean by time and travel. If you wanted to commit suicide, you could have very well done so in your PG itself’

Rahul `Yes, I could have but that PG was the only livelihood of its owner, I did not want to disrupt it, so I hired a lodge in Gandhinagar’

Mitali `ok, why did you not commit suicide there?’

Rahul `I just did not like the doors there, they were too weak. If anybody heard me making any noise, they could easily break in and save me’

Mitali seething with anger `Continue’

Rahul `I moved to Chennai and took up a job. They accommodated me in their guest house. I decided to commit suicide on Neha’s birthday, wrote a suicide letter and pinned her photograph to it but…’

Mitali asked in a mocking tone `which divine thought saved you this time around?’

Rahul `I gave it up because it would spoil the image of the company. The local press over there is capable of making mountain out of a molehill’

Mitali was running short of words so she raised her right hand to suggest continue.

Rahul replied `Next I was sent to one of those gulf countries on an assignment. There was hardly any life over there. Again I harboured thoughts of committing suicide but did not’

Mitali asked sarcastically `why the flat you were staying in was not Vastu complaint for committing suicide?’

Rahul `look no jokes, this is serious stuff’

Mitali `ok, ok, I will stop joking. Please tell me why you terminated the gulf suicide project?’

Rahul `Anti-suicide laws of the country are very strict. Guys who attempt suicide and fail are flogged 500 times in public. There were no ceiling fans to hang in the room and given the medical facilities in the country, it is easy to rescue anybody who has consumed poison.’

Mitali checking sharpness of the dagger in her bag asked `Does your suicide story end here or is there more to come?’

Rahul `There is one last bit. I took up a job in US and there I met Neha with an American. I came back to my room and wanted to commit suicide but did not do so’

Mitali `why you were worried that the famous breaking news samurai journalist will grill Obama with the question “Mr Obama, India wants to know why Rahul Singh committed suicide in the US” and answer the question himself ?’

Rahul `No, I was worried that the American Government would  impose psychological assessment and brain mapping before giving HB1  Visas for Indians. Already people are stretched to the limits’

Mitali lost her cool, pulled out the dagger from her bag and said to Rahul `I am going to stab you, run if you can and save yourself’

Rahul had never seen Mitali so angry, not even when he let her go on the staircase, when they first met. He ran for his life with Mitali in hot pursuit. He came out of the Mall and the road was full of traffic waiting for the signal to turn green. He turned back to see Mitali was just a few feet behind him. He knew if he kept procrastinating any further, a dagger would land into his spine. Without a second thought, he ran across the road and reached the other end. Mitali tripped over a peeled banana skin and fell. Before she could get up, traffic had moved and Rahul was nowhere to be seen.

Mitali came back home dejected. She was angry at the pain Rahul had put her through earlier with a call that he was going to commit suicide. Mitali informed Priya about the incident and she shrugged it off by saying `you should be happy that he let go of his procrastination at least when you chased him with a dagger in hand’. Mitali could not control her laughter. The rest of the evening was spent mocking each of Rahul’s mannerisms on that day.

It was already 2 am, Mitali was done with recollecting her past. Her eyes were thirsting for sleep. She went to bed. Deep down in her heart she knew next time she met Rahul, she would not stab him but surrender in his arms.  

Pain for one Gain for another - it is time to Rain - a poem

One yells Rain, Rain go away, come some other day

Another screams Rain, Rain spread with all your sway, this very day.

The rich housewife said my kids will be drenched

Rain, Rain go away come some other day

The starving farmer’s wife said my kids will be fed

Rain, Rain spread with all your sway this very day

The busy executive cribbed about the traffic ordeal

Rain, Rain go away, come some other day

The jobless boatman smiled about the tourist trail.

Rain, Rain spread with all your sway this very day

There goes my profits cried the greedy tanker owner

Rain, Rain go away, come some other day

There comes a windfall laughed the scheming stock broker

Rain, Rain spread with all your sway this very day

Oh! We cannot play cried the kids

Rain, Rain go away, come some other day

Ah! Here comes our inspiration celebrated the lovers

Rain, Rain spread with all your sway this very day

To a few misery, to many a reason to be happy

Let the rains spread with sway this very day and many a day.

Telemedicine - A silent revolution in Indian Healthcare pioneered by ISRO

This is my submission for http://www.apollohospitals.com/cutting-edge.php

An Arabian saying goes "He who has health has hope; and he who has hope has everything". Unfortunately in a country like India, advances in healthcare are still available to the privileged few residing mainly in the urban area but majority of the population live in rural area. Further, this is compounded by poor medical facilities in rural and inaccessible areas, reluctance of doctors to serve in rural areas, etc. Thus, there is little hope for the larger population of this country for getting quality health care without having A silent revolution happening in the health sector of the country is Telemedicine, by Indian Space Research Organisation (ISRO). It hopes to bridge the gap between haves and have not’s as far as healthcare is concerned.

Telemedicine is the use of telecommunication and information technology for medical diagnosis and patient care. It involves transfer of electronic medical data (i.e. live video, high resolution images, voice, text and patient records) between the “Patient end” and the “Specialist end” using the combination of video, computer and network communication technologies.  The elements of a telemedicine network are viz., patient end; specialty end and communication link. A telemedicine system consists of a computer with relevant medical software and connected to medical diagnostic instruments like ECG, X-ray machine or an X-ray Scanner for scanning the X-ray images. The digitized images and medical reports of the patient are sent to the specialist hospital, which may be thousands of kilometers away, through a satellite VSAT system or terrestrial links. The specialist in the comfort of his hospital is able to examine the reports, diagnose, interact with the patient and suggest appropriate treatment during the video conferencing session through the telemedicine system. Tele-consultation is a great boon in post-operative care for patients coming from remote areas because money and time expended on travel is avoided. Telemedicine has its own limitations and it cannot be used in cases where any disease which requires clinical examination of the patient cannot be diagnosed by telemedicine eg skin disorders, pshychiatric disorders, etc. Telemedicine technology as of now in India, has been adopted in the following areas:-

1.   Tele-consultation.

2.   Tele-diagonsis.

3.   Tele-treatment.

4.   Tele-education

5.   Tele-training

6.   Tele-monitoring

7.   Tele-support.

ISRO has always been endeavouring to reach space technology to the grassroots. In India, telemedicine started during 2001 linking Apollo Hospital, Chennai with the Apollo Rural Hospital at Aragonda village in Chittor, Andhra Pradesh. The next one implemented during March 2002 linked  Naryana Hrudayalaya, Bangalore with Chamrajnagar District Hospital and The Vivekanada Memorial Trust Hospital at Saragur, both districts being located in Karnataka. Presently, ISRO’s Telemedicine Network stretches to around 100 hospitals all over the country with 78 remote/rural/district hospitals/health centres connected to 22 speciality hospitals located in the major cities. The thrust of ISRO’s Telemedicine Programme are as follows:

1. Remote/Rural Hospitals and Speciality Hospitals.
2. Continuing Medical Education (CME) – training for doctors & paramedics in rural/remote areas, from a higher level hospital/institution.
3. Mobile Telemedicine Units
4. Disaster Management Support.

The yeoman services rendered by ISRO’s telemedicine network in remote areas like Kargil and Leh in the North, offshore islands of Andaman and Nicobar and Lakshdweep, as well as interior parts of Orrisa, Karnataka, Kerala, Chattisgarh, J&K, North East is noteworthy. As per ISRO’s website, in Chamrajnagar telemedicine has cut down treatment cost by 81%. Further it is stated that in case of remote off-shore islands, this is much more significant both to the patient and the Government administration. In such cases, not only the patients have the cost saving but can be provided with quick and timely medical aid. Telemedicine has also been used since 2002 at Pampa, the foothills of Sabarimala Shrine, Kerala and during Tsunami in Andaman Island and Car Nicobar.

In India healthcare is a state subject and the larger application of telemedicine to benefit of the country would depend on the respective state government’s initiative in grabbing and implementing this technology. Telemedicine with passage of time will become more and more a refined technology. Its progress depends on application of mind by the concerned. High cost of equipments; high cost of maintenance; high training cost and poor connectivity are some of the impediments in telemedicine gaining greater acceptance in India. The field of Information and Communication technology is making giant strides consistently and this over a period of time should result in reduction in cost of hardware and software which will make will make telemedicine systems simpler and affordable.

It is seen from ISRO’s website that they have envisioned the development of a “HEALTHSAT”, an exclusive satellite for meeting the healthcare and medical education needs of India at large. This satellite, when deployed along with wireless and terrestrial communication links, can bring a large change in augmenting the present healthcare delivery system in the country. Telemedicine when fully implemented can be the mythical Sanjeevini to people living in remote/rural areas. It can enlarge the gap between life and death across the length and breadth of this country. We require untiring efforts from all the stake holders to make India a healthy country.

I would like to state that I have relied a lot upon material collected from ISRO website and their press releases.

Kitchens of India - My Gourmet Party - Mock and Delight Yourself (MADY)

This blog is written for Kitchens of India. Don’t forget to read the disclaimer at the end L.

 My party would have only Indian food, both vegetarian and non vegetarian but alcohol will not be served. As much as I love to treat people, I love to tease them. The theme of the party would be Mock and Delight Yourself (MADY). The recommended dress code would be Indian and violators will be made to walk back home after the partyJ.

The party would be held open air in a sufficiently large expanse of land. The guest list would not exceed 100-125. The people who miss families most are the senior citizens in old age homes. They have successfully raised their families but for some unfortunate reason find themselves in an old age home. To once again give them a taste of family life, a few from an old age home would be invited.  The entire area would be enclosed in Shamiyanas. Light music would be played at slightly louder than whispering volumes so that it merges with the festivity and does not become a nuisance value. Buffets are suited for an office lunch or for a restaurant but not for a family & friends dinner. Personal service is a must.

On entrance, after walking a few feet into the shamiyana, the guests would hit a dead end with cross roads on either side; one would look to be leading to the exit and other one into the party area. Obviously, the guests would choose the second path but after passing through a maze would find themselves going back to the parking lot. This would wake them up to the party’s theme “MADY”. On entering again through the correct path☻, they would be welcomed with a glass of sugarcane juice with a dash of pepper.

There is nothing better than beginning a dinner on a healthy note, never mind what you gobble later. To begin with, the guests would get liberal servings of Moong Salad and Kosamberi. Vegetarian starters would be in the form of Achari Paneer and Ladies Finger Fry while the non vegetarian palate would be served with Lemon Chicken, Keema Balls and Crab Fry. Bread would be in the form of Butter Naan and Kulcha. Curry has to be spicy otherwise for me it is a dessert. However, keeping in view varied tastes, vegetarian curry would be Dal Bukhara and Ennai Kathirrikai whereas the non vegetarian ones would be Butter Chicken, Chicken Chettinad and Chettinad Mutton Curry. A party based on Indian food without Biryani is like Kashmir without the snow capped mountains. To avoid any cause for such ridicule, there would be Hyderabadi Chicken Biryani and Mutton Dum Biryani. For the vegetarians, there would be Vegetable Biryani and Peas Pulav. Rasam has great digestive properties. If Europeans give a soup at the beginning to stimulate appetite, we give Rasam at the end to stimulate digestion. Here again, we have proved our forethought because digesting what you have eaten is of paramount importance. Thus, the penultimate serving would be White Rice and Rasam. Desserts would round off the party and they would be in the form of Jodhpur Moong Dal Halwa and Tender Coconut Water Payasam. Paan’s customary presence at the end would be ensured.

As far as entertainment is concerned, I would refrain from the usual antakshari, musical chairs, etc. There should be something which excites the families and also gives them a different perspective about each other. Have you ever wondered, mothers are so desperate to see their sons married? They will turn Earth upside down to get the best bride but once he is married and happy, they get jealous and the never ending Mother-in-Law [MiL] and Daughter-in-Law[DiL] battle begins. If only they learnt to live like mother and daughter, most nuclear families would never get created and many old age homes would go out of business. More often than not, a MiL and DiL never understand each other like and dislikes. To facilitate this, I have come up with KYSoB (Know Your Saans or Bahu) wherein they would separately be asked five questions about each other likes, dislikes, favourite food, color, holiday spot, etc and cross checked with the other to find the compatibility. Hopefully, they appreciate the common points and understand each other’s diverse interests. Couples have problems with each other because one does not realise how irritating he or she behaves in certain situations. To project this irritating attitude in a humorous way, there would be a contest wherein wife would mimic the husband and vice versa in typical situations. The judges would be the couples themselves. The winners would be given gift hampers of products from Kitchens of India by the specially invited senior citizens. After the party, the guest would be personally seen off by me and my family.

P.S: Dear relatives and friends, never ever expect such a treat from me, this is basically written for Kitchen’s of India contest. It took me a lot of magnanimity to imagine being so generous J J ☺.

Indians are truly an affectionate lot

We Indians overwhelm our relatives and friends with affection. Being affectionate to our dear and near is as important as Elnino is to monsoon; as fast food is to health; as candle light marches are to affirmative action and as a bride is to the continuance of a joint family. There is no occasion in which we won’t go out of our way to indulge in PDA (no it is not Public Display of Affection but Pungent Display of Affection). Rules, common sense, aptness all these are passé when we want to indulge in PDA.

                Have you been to a diagnostic centre and found the place overflowing? If you decided to come later, you are a dummy to this PDA. Just wait and very soon you will find a battalion storming out of place and only one of them would have come for blood sugar test. We stretch this PDA beyond limits to the point where even a stone would seethe with anger, when one our loved ones by quirk of fate get into an ICU. More important than the patient getting well or other patients recovering, is our urge to show our faces to the relative in question (literally!!!), enquire his welfare and most importantly share with him/her our disastrous tidbits on his/her ailment.

                We love our children so much. We want them to enjoy all that we could not do so in our younger days and to ensure that we are ready to break any rule in the book. We want our children to mature fast, stand on their feet at the earliest and most importantly drive their own vehicles. We believe our under-aged son/daughter is very capable and the moron who fixed the minimum age limit for driving a vehicle had no idea of their capabilities. That explains why you find kids who have barely reached middle school driving a two wheeler? We don’t mind paying all the fees that is required to be paid, to make our kids an engineer or a doctor, never mind, even if he or she wants to be a priest or a chef. We love to adorn our daughters with jewels and let them walk on the street.

                We believe in all conceivable extensions of the adage `families that eat together, stay together’. This explains why dozen of family/friends walk together on the road in a horizontal line. After all, family/friends that walk together stay together. Another extension of this adage is that a family that never misses a call finds bliss. Now you know, why we answer a call wherever, whenever we receive it and hardly keep a phone on silent mode. We also believe in travelling without being separated which explains why five people travel on a two wheeler or ten in a four wheeler. In a queue, we cannot see any of our loved ones standing far behind us and we beckon them near us, unmindful of all the morons standing behind.

                When it comes to celebrations, we go out of way to display grandeur and make the guests most comfortable. We don’t mind pitching tents bang in middle of the road for days or for that matter playing music at cacophonic volumes during unearthly hours. We force food down the throat of a loved one in a function to prove our affection. We have to burst crackers for every celebration, never mind the chaos created.

                These are few of the PDA which I can think of. Sky is the limit when it comes to Indians and PDA.

Bangalore for Women - A Times of India/ Indiblogger meet

Recently I attended a meet organized by Indiblogger and The Times of India on the topic `Bangalore for Women’. I have attended four meets organized by Indiblogger and this was the best, only for the opinions that came out. More than a few expressed their opinions about safety of women in Bangalore and one of them made me ashamed of Bangalore. The Bangalore, which I was brought up in, had immense respect for women. House owners always preferred girl tenants because unlike boys they don’t create any problems for the neighbours, and in this case this girl was evicted in the middle of a night, just because she dared to complain against a psycho who stalking her. What sort of heartless person is that owner? He is a bigger criminal in this issue than the psycho who was stalking her. I can only bow my head in shame before this young girl, for the hurt and anguish caused to her by a few insensitive citizens of my city.

Once Bangalore was a sleepy city and there used to be hardly any movement of people after 9 pm. I still recall once when I had to pay fees for ICWAI course in N.R. Colony, Basavanagudi and missed the last bus. I decided to walk back home which was 25 kms away. I did narrate this incident in the meet and you can read all about this here. Ever since the IT/BT story came to Bangalore, the city never sleeps. You can always see a young girl waiting in the middle of the night for her office cab or returning home at an early hour. Everything seemed fine until Pratibha Murthy, a BPO employee was raped and murdered by her taxi driver. A huge hue and cry was raised about protection of working women, especially those who have to travel late nights or early morning. As is the case with all hypes, this too died down. Still I see on my morning walk, girls returning alone in a cab. Nobody takes the responsibility; neither the always dormant Government; nor the software bosses who always have comments on functioning of the Government but never realise that charity and clarity begins at home; nor the Press which when such an incident happens highlights the issue to hilt and later puts it to rest when another issue becomes the burning topic. The rapist and killer of Pratibha Murthy meanwhile has got away with a life punishment. CALL ME BARBARIC, ANYBODY WHO RAPES AND KILLS A WOMAN HAS TO BE HANGED AND THIS HAS TO TAKE PLACE WITHIN 3 MONTHS OF SUCH AN INCIDENT. THE ONLY EVIDENCE IN A RAPE CASE SHOULD BE THE DNA TEST AND NOTHING BEYOND THAT. THERE SHOULD BE NO PROVISION FOR A MERCY PETITION FOR SUCH AN ANIMAL. AS FAR AS A RAPIST WHO DOES NOT KILL, HE MUST BE GIVEN LIFE IMPRISONMENT WITH SOLITARY CONFINEMENT AND SHOULD NOT BE ALLOWED TO MEET HIS FAMILY OR ANYBODY. THERE SHOULD BE NO HUMAN RIGHTS FOR A RAPIST.

Yet another lady had complained about ladies seat being occupied by men. Sorry girls, this is not an ideal world, raise your voice, rankle a few guys and the change will set in. I have seen ladies from lower strata of the society fight for their seat in a public bus but not the educated ones. If what is rightfully yours is not given to you, learn to snatch it. Why not start a campaign on the social media `Get you’re a*** out of my seat’? Good news for girls travelling in buses, BMTC has recently lodged a campaign to book men who sit in seats reserved for women. The BMTC has an excellent complaint mechanism and you should lodge your complaints to ensure that this campaign is continued.

There was also a lady who narrated how she dealt with sexual harassment at work place. Take a bow Madamji, we require more ladies like you at work place. The best punishment for a guy who indulges in sexual harassment at work place would be to conduct the inquiry in presence of his family members. Inclusion of such a provision itself would put off many an office swine.

Trafficking of women was one topic which was never discussed in the meet. Here, I would like to point out that the print media carries classified advertisements about seedy massage parlours; friendship clubs and at time escort services. Will any newspaper’s finances crumble, if they stop carrying these advertisements?

I am appalled at the fact that after speaking so much about respect for women in the society, I enjoy item songs; dance to their beats and call up radio stations to play them. Do you also indulge in such hypocracy? I hope not.

A girls dress cannot be blamed for a rape. If dress is the reason for a rape, why do Dalit women who go fetch water, covered from head to toe get gang raped? The blame and shame for a rape or sexual harassment or trafficking or eve teasing is not on the girl but only on the man who indulges in such acts.

One last piece of advice for the girls at the risk of being called a MCP please be aware of the city you are staying; safe hours to move around; safe modes of transport and most importantly the unsafe spots. This is not to curb your freedom but please understand that your family and the society depend on you for its progress. There is no point in your precious life being lost to the designs of a barbaric just because you were not a little more aware.

Bangalore Autorickshaws Principles of Movement

Bangalore Autorickshaw principles of movement or Autocracy

People criticise Auto drivers in Bangalore. All these are false and baseless. You have to just understand the Autorichsaw principles of motion and once you understand that, COMMUTING in Bangalore with the HELP of Autorickshaws is the HEALTHIEST. Here are the principles of Autocracy:-

a. This principle applies for a distance of 3 kms. If you want to travel more than 3 kms, reapply the principles from point b or concur with points at e and f.

b. Walk a distance from your house to the main road because Autorickshaws’ don’t come to inner roads. The chances of finding an auto is 0.5% and the chances of him wanting to go in the opposite direction of your destination is 75%.

c. Skip the autos in the stand; you should understand it is a STAND  not GO. There are 95% chances that the Auto Pilot will give you a nasty stare for disturbing his intellectual conversation with co-pilots.

d. Walk further, if you find an auto standing for no reason, don’t disturb him, either he is having a nap after a day of hardly any work or chatting on the mobile. There are 87%  chances that he won’t even stare at you.

e. Walk along, if you find any auto just meandering along, put your hand out and gesture him to stop. There are 56% chances he will agree to come to your destination but the chance of him demanding 3 times the fare is 99%.

f. Walk further, you will find an auto driver ready to come to any destination you ask him to. There are 78% chances that his auto meter will outdo Ussain Bolt.

g. Ignoring him move further and you will find an auto driver who is polite, honest and service oriented, the chances of which are 3% but he will be of no use to you since you have already walked 3 kms.

If you skip point e and f subject to the condition that point g does not happen, you will be the most healthiest individual around.

The Three Gulibles And A Sermon On Marriage

Public Notice

No scissors/ gum sticks were used during the writing of this blog either physically or virtually.

Statutory Warning

You may forget to laugh at a joke after reading this piece of writing

Disclaimer (for the benefit of fundamentalists/secularists/right and left wing sympathizers of the institution called Marriage)

The writer of this blog has a successful and happy married life. He does not have anything against marriage and cracks jokes on marriage because only he can crack jokes only on marriage. This conversation with his friends is imaginary but not fictitious. I believe in the Tamil saying ` Yaam petra inbam peruga ivvaiyagam’ - Let this world bequeath the pearls of my wisdom and keep spreading my knowledge among eligible bachelors about the fun in marriage but none seems to listen. It’s with the intention of making understand would-be-grooms, this concept; I have documented this sermon of mine.

 Anybody who has known me for any length of time (exceeding three months)  either in real life or through social media (not including bus conductors, traffic cops, ATM security guards and a certain Mark Zuckerberg) would readily acknowledge that most of my jokes are based on wives/wife’s (I have only one and no more). I hardly used to crack a joke BM (before marriage) on marriage but AM (now don’t ask what AM means? If you do so this blog will become invisible) jokes come at a steady pace. As rightly said by me in one of my status updates “Every man should get married because only marriage can bring the philosopher or the joker out of him” and in my case it has been the joker, because the only philosophical thought I can conjure is, the sun that rises must set.

 I have been part of a wonderful book club for the past 2 years and they like everybody else have been the victims of my crass jokes on wives/wife’s. As always there’s no dearth of gulibles in the crowd, so was the case with this book club and I found three viz., Aram, the intellectual; Karthik, the elegant and Sukhdeep, the subtle. These guys were highly impressed by my gyan on marriage and wanted to know in detail about it. Well, if somebody offers you free snacks and tea in a trendy coffee shop, who would not agree and why would I not agree?

On a Saturday evening, we met up at a café for a sermon by me on marriage, to the “The Three Gullibles”. The café is part of a collectibles showroom and the stairs leading to it seem to be straight out of the den of a 1970’s Bollywood don. Before I could reach the café, Aram was already there. I got to sit on a tall uncomfortable chair. The lounge table was so low that had it been any lower, I would have removed it and asked the waiter to serve us on the floor itself. Possibly cafes have such furniture to create patients for orthopedicians or chase customers within a reasonable period of time. However, the youngsters who frequent such cafes seem to be hell bent upon making the orthopedician rich. I had neither of the ideas and hence shifted to a more comfortable chair. After exchanging pleasantries, we tried calling Karthik and Sukhdeep. I was rather flummoxed since Karthik stays a few yards away, how could he get late? The problem with staying near a venue is you have the license to get late. Soon Karthik came up the stairs flashing his million dollar smile and I wondered in my mind `Why do men with great smiles get married? Is it to turn grumpy and bald? ’

Karthik after settling down and ordering his quota of fill began by asking `Bala, I have heard that marriage is a lifelong bond and you crack so many jokes about this divine relationship, what is the truth?’

I, sipping the elaichi tea and munching away the French fries, replied with a dead pan expression `True, Karthik, Marriage is a lifelong bond but the definition has changed with times. Marriage has become a perpetual EMI; if you try to terminate it, your EMI increases and if your love bears fruit, the EMI again increases. It all boils down to whether you want to start the EMI or not?’

Aram asked me like a quiz master `what about the much famed romance in marriage?’

I was expecting this question but did not expect it to come so early. Men will be men, always fall prey to licensed carnal pleasure seeking. I could not control but smile sarcastically at Aram and reply `Romance in marriage is like salary from a job. You will get enough to survive but what you get lasts  only for a few days and after that you have to keep swiping your credit card till the next one’, winked at him and ended by saying `hope you can read between the lines’

Soon we were joined by Sukhdeep who had travelled quite a distance to reach the meet. He apoIogised for his delay and I welcomed him by saying `It is ok now but remember after marriage, only your wife has the right to get late’.

Sukhdeep joined the conversation by firing at me the question `After marriage, your relation base increases. Is that not a positive development?’

 Another compulsive trapping for a man to get married but it is only after a decade he realises that his own friends and relation base has shrunk like a deflated balloon. However, being a harried and harassed husband, I have the underlying responsibility to increase my club membership and hence kept back this secret from the Three Gulibiles and gave a scientific reply `most of them are related-ions and a majority of them are negative’

Aram screeched into the conversation, like a two wheeler would do in busy traffic and asked `is it for nothing our elders say that being a bachelor is living life on the edge?’.

 I was taken aback by this question. It is such questions which make me realise how entrenched is the need to get married in our society. Society has equated this ritual with air, water and food or possibly even bigger than the three of them. I cannot bite the dust in front of three guys who looked up to me or looked down on me (whatever as long they pay the café bill). I laughed shrilly more out of fear than contempt for his question, turned aside to hide my emotions and bingo the local authorities misdeed came to my rescue, a pit dug up for some work and left unclosed. If you think I decided to jump into it, you are wrong. I turned to Aram and said in a funny tone `Living in the edge is ok but how about living in a deep gorge. Getting off the edge is physically and mentally an easier task than getting out of a deep gorge’. They say in misadventures, the most unplanned action saves the day. Aram fell for this missive and hereafter it was all about how I am going to dominate him?

It was now Karthik’s turn to have an emotional go at me ` I stay alone in the city away from my family and nobody is there to take care of me. My family wants me to get married so that I have an emotional company and also the house becomes a home’.

I remembered the same dialogue was said to me by my mother 13 years ago, when I said I was not ready to get married. Till date, I have not seen one application form that asks for home address, all of them ask only for house address or residential address. Maybe there is something that the guys’ who frame application forms know that parents don’t know when they decide to push their children into marriage.

The problem of being a guru is you can’t writhe too much in your emotional flashbacks and hence I came back to the present and with a sigh replied `Karthik, do you keep your wifi connection open because you are feeling lonely or do you stick to the same job for years because you like the tea that is made in the cafeteria, obviously you don’t. The same is with getting married. You can make home out of your house by arranging your things or just by drawing a rangoli in front of it. If required, you can learn to cook by yourself, understand the best cook in our mythology is Bheema not Sita or Draupadi. Gandhiji cut his hairs by himself, emulate him and be free’

Karthik was still not convinced and asked `what about the fact that homemade food is the healthiest?’

 I asked `do you know the reason why homemade food is the healthiest?’

As the three gestured at my in anticipation, I replied `because you can never have too much of it’

All of us burst out laughing and now each one of them opened up their fears of getting married, Aram started by asking `I heard most women dominate their husbands, is it true?’

Now that I was in a dominant position, there was no need to give a detailed answer, I replied `Even Hitler knew this, that’s why he got married only two days before his death’

Sukhdeep `is it really difficult to understand a woman’s mind?’

I replied him, while updating on Facebook the answer I gave Aram `They have more moods than colors in a paint chart; more fluctuations in moods than the stock market; more emotional baggage than coaches in a long distance train; more fine print in emotions than in a discount sale advertisement and most importantly more bags than you can carry after their shopping trysts’.

Aram `one last question, are you a hen pecked husband?’

As they were sharing the bill, I got up to leave and said `I am a hen kicked husband and better reach home early so that my weekend is not lost in getting kicks’.

I presume I convinced them that marriage is an adventure worth pursuing. Hope soon the weeding cards will roll out and also an opportunity for me to savor a dinner at their cost, literally  :p.