Month: November 2004

I was innocent. For I thought she loved me. I was obviously (and naturally) thinking like a man.

Rekha used to call me at least four to five times during office hours. If I include calls made to remind me to pay the phone bill, drop the Credit card cheque, or book train tickets…it would amount to about ten calls a day.

For long, I thought the amount of calls that a wife makes during office hours is directly proportional to the love she has for you. Guess, it is just the opposite.

The first call would be around 10 a.m. “So, did you reach safely?” she would ask.

“Yes. Nothing happened to my Yamaha.”

“Good,” she would say and keep the phone down.

The other calls would be timed for 11.00 a.m. (she knows that`s the time I go for coffee), 1.00 p.m. (that`s the time I go for lunch) and 3.30 p.m. (afternoon coffee).

Though not a daughter of a Army General, Rekha sure was punctual with her calls. So much so, once I got the second call of the day, I would yell at my colleague, “Hey, looks like its coffee time. Wanna come?” Guys generally like to have coffee with me. That is, if I offer to pay. Otherwise, they prefer lady colleagues. Their motto is simple; if you are not saving money…at least have some fun.

As I have already told you, I am a man quite chaste. And the innocent me never suspected any ill will in Rekha`s calls.

A few days back she calls me when I was having lunch.

“So, what you doing?” Rekha asks.

“Me? Nothing…I am just having my lunch. Why do you ask?,” I question her knowing fully well that she would not answer.

“I can hear a lady near you. Whom are you having your lunch with?”

“Hooo…that`s Pratima. A colleague.”

“Married?”

“Nah, but she would get married soon,” I turn an astrologer.

“So she is pretty?”

I wanted to ask her…Arre if only pretty girls get married…how did YOU get married. But such questions are best wrapped up in an aluminum foil and kept safely inside your right ventricle.

“Yeah, kind of,” I tell her.

“From tom, you shall not have lunch with her. So it took you only two months to start flirting again?”

“What flirting? I am only eating!” I exclaim. I am furious, but then gentlemen like me do not show their anger out in the open. So, I speak into my mobile lovingly: “My dear Rekha, I am only having my lunch.”

“That`s all fine. I am glad I called you. My two months of keeping a watch finally paid off”

I ask her softly. “What watch? Just two months into our marriage and you have hired detectives to tail me?”

I am sweating with anger and indignation…but I am not suffering from mad cow`s disease and hence would not reveal my anger.

“No baba I have not hired any detectives. Why do you think I was calling you so often?”

I don`t recollect how the conversation ended. But it hurt. Now she doesn`t call me that often. But knowing her, I am sure…I have a few detectives behind me. I don`t see them, but I know they are seeing me. They could be my lady colleagues too…

Diwali was a blast. Pun very seriously intended.

It was raining yet my brother-in-law and I went to buy crackers. The initial child-like enthusiasm died once we saw the crowd. It was the day before Diwali and everybody was queuing up in front of the veddi kaddai (that`s how we call a shop that sells crackers).

“Guess everybody wants to be part of the Big Bang on Diwali,” I commented.

“Gang bang, is more like it,” retorted my brother-in-law.

I chuckled; just enough to attract my brother-in-law`s attention. He prefers a good laugh…for his jokes.

Now, we were at the cracker shop. There were different types and both did not know what to buy, leave alone how much. The sales man was frothing at his mouth, shouting the rates at the top of his voice.

“Sir, I just got married and this would be my first Diwali. Which type of crackers would you recommend?” I asked the salesman.

“You should try the Mallika Sherawat rocket,” he said with a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“And what would that be?,” I asked.

“It is a rocket with a pay load. You light it…it goes pretty high and bursts. And her undergarments gently float down.”

I was not very keen on the Mallika rocket. My parents would have bombed me. So I asked him again: “Sir, anything else that you suggest?”

At this question he handed me a list of Special Crackers he had –

Kanchi Shankaracharya Jayendra Saraswati cracker – So pure that it can only be used only inside temples…and only by temple managers.
Lalu Prasad Yadav cracker – If you buy this you get the Rabri Devi cracker free.
Sourav Ganguly cracker – Doesn`t go off at all.
Uma Bharati cracker – It is a pack of ten small crackers. When lighted…one of them bursts first and sets off the others.
Manmohan Singh cracker – Goes off silently.
Amitabh Bachan cracker – It is a bomb that does not need a light…one just needs to pour some Pepsi over it.
Aishwarya Rai cracker – If you blast one in India, you will be able to hear it only in US & UK.
Vivek Oberoi – When lighted, goes in search of Aishwarya Rai cracker.

We just bought the normal, made-for-middle-class crackers and came back home.

I know it sounds like a Hindi movie actress picked up by a rouge for a rape scene. But this article is about my In-Laws

Do you know why they are called In-laws? Coz they think they are THE Law!

I got to tell you this…those of you who are married are probably aware. If your in-laws are coming home to stay with you for a day or two, fake a business trip and stay in a hotel. Or better still, fake an accident and get admitted in ICU.

I was at the Central Railway station at 6.00 a.m. on a Sunday for a train that would arrive at 7 a.m. from Kannur (Rekha`s native). My wife had kept the alarm at 4.30 a.m. and woken me up, and peacefully gone back to sleep. I had tried to protest, but her stare mellowed me down.

The previous night, Rekha had said: “Make sure my parents don`t have to wait. They don`t know our address, they don`t remember phone numbers and they don`t know Tamil.”

That had given me a ray of hope. I could lose them in the crowd, and come back home. Rekha might scold me for a day or two, but then forget. And by the time her parents find our house in Chennai, we would have had two kids…and anyways at that point of time we would need her parents to baby-sit our kids. But I was scared. So I went straight to the station, and waited for the train that was already one hour late.

I saw the twosome get down at the station. Quite a sight they were. I wanted to hide behind a porter and see their reaction on not seeing me. They were pretty calm. Guess they had faith in their daughter`s ability to get me out of bed.

They had three suitcases and a cardboard box kept in place by a red nylon rope. I asked my father-in-law, “So, we take a porter huh?”

“Arre, why do we need a porter? We can carry this,” he said even as he picked up two small suitcases and started walking. I looked around and even her mother had started walking swinging her arms like a windmill.

I was left to pick up the two heavy pieces of luggage. Mind you, the cardboard box weighed 25+ Kgs and I am still nursing a bruise on my shoulder. Later I would know that the box had 100+ bananas. Gosh, these in-laws!

On reaching my house, I kept down the cardboard box and rang the bell.

An excited Rekha opened the door. “So how was the journey,” she asked her father.

“Everything was good, except for these heavy suitcases,” the old man blurted out. You should have seen the look Rekha gave me. My knees gave way.

Having just smiled for three hours, my face muscles were tired. I rushed to the washroom and relaxed a bit. But that was short-lived. Once inside our bedroom, Rekha reprimanded me for not hiring a porter so that her father could swing his arms and walk freely in Chennai air.

She refuses to believe that her father is trying to make my life miserable. Little does she know that my parents are planning a trip to Chennai after Diwali.

Tea is perhaps the easiest thing to make. Easier still, if you are as talented as I am.

I embarked on this adventure after reading this article on how to lead a happy married life. I would not say it was a happy ending…but yes, in the end, I had made tea.

I got up, washed and brushed before tiptoeing to the kitchen. Rekha was still asleep…and I wanted to give her this little surprise.

Once in the kitchen, I looked around. I searched for the vessel in which to make tea but could not decide. Determined, that I am, I woke up my mother in Madurai and asked her what kind of vessel I should use.

Now, I had the container…but which water would I use. Our house gets three types of water -for drinking, for washing and the third for just playing around (we have water sports in my house).

It was 6.30 a.m. and I woke up the neighbors and checked. Seemed like the lady next door did not have proper sleep the previous night, she looked hassled. But she helped me zero in on the drinking water.

Now, I had the vessel and the water. How would I switch on the gas? I tried Bharat Gas, but guess they open only at 9 a.m. I was forced to disturb one of my colleagues. She briefed me on the intricacies of using LPG, and I had the water boiling.

Now, I needed the tealeaves. Pity, I don`t stay in Assam, or I could have walked out of my house, plucked a few leaves and made tea. I searched the whole house but could not find it. Though I did not want to, I was forced to wake up my other neighbor. She seemed pretty understanding. When I asked her for tealeaves, she said: “I know you will come for sugar later. How about taking it now itself.”

I was glad, she offered the sugar because, I knew I would have needed it and we did not have any more neighbors.

Now, I had the tea ready but could not find the tealeaves filter. Tried very hard, but was forced to wake up Rekha. She sure was surprised (and upset) when she saw the kitchen.

I wonder if she knows to what extent, I can go to keep her happy.

George Bush has retained the White House.

Shucks, I had gotten bored of the Bush jokes on the net and was expecting Kerry to win, so that we would have a fresh set of laughing matter. Looks like I have to contend with Bush jokes for another four years.

Don`t know why US has re-elected Bush. I mean, there is no Iraqi civilian left to be killed. If you thought people in India did not pick up their phones when it rang, you should check out Iraq. There is nobody to pick up ringing phones. Ever since US Prez Bush started taking the call, everybody else in Iraq has stopped.

According to reports, Osama Bin Laden released Kerry`s daughter from captivity this morning. It is being assumed that Osama kidnapped Vanessa Kerry. In case, Kerry had won, Osama would have used her to negotiate the withdrawal of US troops from Iraq. A few critics of John Kerry believe Vanessa and Osama could be hanging out together.

When last heard, the World famous terrorist was planning to kidnap Bush`s daughter Jenna W. Bush. Determined fella, this Osama guy.

Hope you guys like political posts like this. Or was I beating around the Bush?

Here is a yahoo chat conversation between US President George Bush and Pakistan CEO Pervez Musharraf. These guys are generally invisible; so don`t wait for them to come online. You can send off-line messages, if you are interested.

Bush: Hey Pervez, where is Osama?
Pervez: Search me! 😛
Bush: Man, you refuse to hand him over when I need him most. This is election time, and if I can capture him now…I get to win.
Pervez: I know.
Bush: So why the hell are you still shielding him?
Pervez: Coz, we also have elections here in Pakistan, and I thought it makes sense for me to keep him safe for my use.
Bush: I can give you whatever you want. Just don`t ask me for Madhuri Dixit or Kashmir.
Pervez: One of them you already have in US, the other you have left here coz you cannot take.
Bush: Forget that. What`s your price?
Pervez: My country and I are not for sale.
Bush: I will stop supplies of arms and ammunition.
Pervez: We have the erstwhile Soviet-bloc countries. 😛
Bush: Hmm…I will stop supplying the nuclear know-how.
Pervez: We have China. 😛
Bush: No World Bank loans for you.
Pervez: Heard an Indian bank called Global Trust Bank, gives loans to Tom, Dick & Harry. I am after all, Pervez. 😛
Bush: Hmmm.. looks like I am losing out.
Pervez: Yeah looks, like.
Bush: What if I give you Manmohan singh dead or alive?
Pervez: Half of him is his turban. I am not interested. 😛
Bush: Sometimes, I wonder if I am the most powerful man on Earth.
Pervez: Yeah, me too.

It is a very fine art. You learn with age. Or should I say you realize after some time.

Back in Madurai, we have no tradition of gifting. Of course, we do part with a piece of our earnings…just that we do not go to Archies or a Lifestyle or a Design store searching for that good-looking, cheap gift. The invitees would just walk in with some money in an envelope, and hand it over to the person celebrating.

During my early days in Chennai, I would notice all invitees walking into the reception/marriage hall with a gift in hand, with a nice golden gift-wrap hiding the contours of the cheap gift. Now, it is a different debate that gifts cannot be cheap because it`s the thought behind it that matters.

A curious me wanted to know the kind of gifts exchanging hands and I asked a friend who had invited me, if I could be present during the gift-opening ceremony. He reluctantly agreed. Perhaps, because he owed me Rs 2000. It was a big affair. His grandma, who cannot walk was also wheeled in from the next room.

While my friend`s mother wanted the biggest gift to be opened first, my mate said he wanted to go from the smallest to the biggest. The issue was finally settled. My mate picked up the smallest gift…it had come from a common friend of ours. The guy had gifted four tea cups with saucers. “Bastard!,” I heard somebody saying. Don`t know which side it came from.

The next gift was a night lamp. By the time we finish, we would be left staring at 18 night lamps. Wonder why people think after marriage most couples end up sleeping.

After the lamps, it was a casserole. Next, a flask. Next, wall clock. Next, a picture frame. And then, the gifts started repeating itself. Intelligentsia had even taken the trouble of gifting a Sidney Sheldon. Perhaps, he/she had finished reading it.

Then there was another common friend called Prakash, who gifted him a towel. It looked familiar. Had I gifted it once to Prakash…I was not sure. I looked for that small tear in the corner…which was the reason why I had parted with it in the first place…and yes, it was there. So, that cheapo had forwarded my gift. Now, I also forward gifts.

I have already marked the ones that are not good ‘gifters` and don`t invite them to my functions. BTW, did I tell you…I have not been getting much invites lately.