The "Husband Material"

Flipping a few chapters backwards to Bangalore. It was a particularly hectic week at office. We decided to escape the hustles and bustles for the weekend, this time with my sister and family. At daybreak, we made ourselves comfortable in our car, and vroomed to a very particularly quiet and serene hill station near Bangalore. The drive was not less than seven hours, and hubby drove all the way with just a breakfast break in between.

 Driving is a passion for him, and any long distance drive doesn’t make him impatient, weary or irritable.After long exhausting drives like these , he usually appears cool and fresh for photo sessions ... but  me…who’d be sitting idle in the car end up looking like I'd been dragged all the way. 

We reached our destination by noon... the resort cottages were crispy clean and cool. The men bought us Chicken Biryani for lunch. I collapsed into bed for a short afternoon nap, conveniently ignoring comments that if it was to sleep I could’ve slept at home…why drive all the way and pay for a resort. Zzzz.

By evening I was almost sure that what we ate was Biryani, but it was not chicken. The rumbling sounds in my stomach was almost audible to myself and eerie thoughts clouded my head as I began guessing what it could have been, having seen many dogs and monkeys en route. A trip like this one doesn’t happen every weekend, so I shushed the sounds to myself.

Soon it was dinner time. I ate a bare minimum, popped a Lopamide, drank warm water, restored myself and we lay down to sleep. The seven hour drive had begun to show now, and hubby retired to bed and fell asleep soon after. However the dogs and monkeys had no plans to let me. I was unable to sit or lie down. I walked up and down the room, visited the loo like 25 times, popped another pill, and by now the growling and rumbling had given way to unbearable pain in the abdomen. I sat by the window side, shut my eyes tight and prayed. Tears were flowing down my face.

By now, hubby dear was sleeping peacefully, with an expression which told that he was pretty amused by his dream. I had one hand on my stomach, whose affairs had gone way out of my control and sat on the bed next to him. His dream had gotten so entertaining that now he was laughing aloud.

Ignoring it, I switched off the lights and got under the covers…I don’t remember when I slept, but at least I could. In the morning I couldn’t wait to tell everyone of the  scariest night of my life, the pain, the laughter, the helplessness and the action that could have happened if he had laughed some more.

Putting more thought into it…what would I have done if it was a room mate, a sibling, a friend or relative, who laughed when I was miserable? Either a kick on the ass or waking them up and making them stay awake with me throughout the night. But I never even thought of waking hubby up considering the long drive especially after a shift the previous day at office.

Husband is totally different from the rest of the world. Ain't he ? J

Lost and Found !

Just a few weeks after we landed in Muscat, I lost a mobile phone. Not just a mobile phone, it was the ONLY phone in which the facility to make ISD calls was enabled. All extensive searches and raids were unsuccessful. My better half has known me for more than half a decade now, and I should say that he wasn’t very surprised, but I convinced him to not tell anyone at my home. And it was done.


However Papa started checking with me about this mobile, as he called on that number a few times and continued to receive a message that it was switched off. I gathered some courage and told him about the loss. The courage was not to present the situation to him, but it was to get enough self-control to listen to the reactions and conclusions that was to follow. Anyway he told me to make some alternate arrangement to connect with home and that was done too.

Five months later. This time I was searching for a doctor’s prescription in my laptop bag. And yay, there it was! Not the doctor’s prescription, but the mobile phone. My better half was again witness to this, was least surprised, and again I begged him to not tell my parents that we got the mobile phone from MY bag. And it was done. I’m sure Papa will come to know from here. And I am not calling home for a week: D

This reminds me of another incident at school. A and N were my friends. A was a dancer and she had lost a quintessential dance accessory during a competition at school. All 3 of us set out to search. A was in tears. We went to the school office and requested to see the Lost Property Box. We also explained what exactly we were searching for. Ma’am returned with a huge card board box. We identified a little more than what we intended to.

N’s pencil box.

N’s umbrella.

N’s notebook of the previous year.

N’s costume for fancy dress.

And, N’s text book for the current year.

A dint get the dance accessory, but the search in the lost property box was a fruitful one. N wasn’t even looking for these items, as she dint realize that these were missing. Unfortunately N’s name was there on all of them. (Otherwise we would’ve pretended that it was not hers). The Ma’am gave her an ‘I was waiting for you, Miss. N’ look and an evil grin.

It was also the first time ever, that A and N was in trouble and I wasn't !! I celebrated the rare event to pacify them.

Uncanny Responses :-(

We’ve all had our share of abusive rickshaw drivers and dirty stares by bus conductors and cleaners (in case of females, but nowadays it doesn’t matter). However repeated embarrassment from an apartment security was for the first time.

Two of our friends stay in different apartments of the same building in Bangalore. So during weekends we usually drive to this place and hangout there. The security guy for this building was a tall, frail fellow, who dutifully forbids us to park in the car parking area. We usually convince him that we’ll be back in five minutes and this guy believes it every time. Also there were a few cars on the parking lot which looked like vintage cars, covered with dust, bird feces, paw marks of cats and dogs, cobwebs and the like. We always park our car in front of such cars, as, 1. We are sure no one will ask us to move it. 2. If at all someone calls to move it, we desperately want to see that guy.

One such day, we were watching TV in one apartment, and later decided to have dinner at the other. Being three married couples or in other words six extremely lazy techies, we took the elevator to the other apartment which was only a floor away. This elevator was designed to allow only three people…but our legs weren’t designed to walk upto another floor…so we all squeezed in, and pressed the floor number and waited. When we almost reached the next floor, the elevator stopped and door jammed. I cant say that this was totally unexpected, but we got panicked and called the security. After what seemed like five minutes, he came with a torch, pressed some elevator buttons from outside and we got out…

The guys among us maintained absolute silence, but we girls, definitely dint, and asked for whatever that happened after this.

We: “What is this? If something is wrong with elevator, no one should be allowed to use it!”

Security: Yeah lift ka koi problem nahi hai madam…bas yeh 3 log ke liye baney hain…aur tum…? 6 mota mota aadmi …

We couldn’t believe our ears. This guy has certainly gone overboard. And the three guys among us had swallowed their tongues and were still silent.

But we got angry and blurted…” Mota mota aadmi???!! Kaun hai mota aadmi…tum bolo…BOLO…!!!”

At this, we expected the frail old guy to apologize and relapse to his shell.

But the most earth shattering thing happened.

“ Mujhe pooch rahe ho kaun mota hai…? and he took out his filthy fingers and pointed at a few of us one by one.. ‘Tum…tum….aur tum…”

!@!!@@#$##$#$%$%^%^&*(*(*(&^%$#@@#@$#$^*(*()!!!!!

'Holier than Thou'..

This incident dates back to a couple years, when yours truly had got a job as a fresher and eventually developed a huge crush on a guy at office.

 Office and team parties were then, those unavoidable events, in which each of us participated, to prove right the ‘team spirit’ and ‘team player’ factors of the annual performance assessment form. Usually I end up checking the watch incessantly and fight the increasing urge to eat at the cost of project funds and get out. However this time it was different. Now that the crush is there, official parties have gotten interesting for me. I stopped yawning and dressed better.

It all began by people getting together in round table chit chats, patting shoulders, fake laughs and the like. Me and my friend sat together and shared interesting gossips about our crushes. Being single girls who dint have vehicles of our own, but essentially had ego clashes with people who had vehicles,  we had to find our own ways to commute our way back home, so we initiated the buffet dinner a bit early.

Soon after dinner, we disposed the plates and walked into the wash room, still commenting and giggling at the awful color of the dress another female was wearing. As we washed our hands and pulled out tissues, my crush stepped in, stared at us both sarcastically and got into the restroom. Oh my.

 “ What the hell is this guy doing here… these men! !@#$%^&*()   !!!!!!!!!They just get drunk and get into the ladies washroom…look at the way he stared at us? Arrogance I say! “ 

And we got out of the washroom, feeling disgusted.

And we also noticed that there were a group of ladies in the adjacent washroom which was actually,  the ladies washroom.

We got the hell out of there.

That he couldn’t remember this the next day and ever since,   saved my head.

By the way, that crush is now the husband J