Two and a half years back I had announced my marriage with Rekha on this blog. Today, I would like to announce that I am a bachelor again. No! Girls, wait! Not yet. Rekha is gone only for six months and when she is back I will have one more reason not to dump her – the Kerala chips she will bring for me. Just kidding.
Last Friday, Rekha renounced her kingdom and made me the king again. She will be in Kerala for six months and in her absence I will be ruling our house. Have already taken her sandals which I can keep on the TV and seek guidance. My only grudge is…I had to soak the sandal in surf water before keeping it on the TV.
She has come up with five pages of instructions on what needs to be done to maintain the house the way it is now. They have been labeled Daily, Weekly and Monthly. A surprise inclusion in the Daily column is me taking bath.
Of the tasks labeled weekly the one that made me sigh in relief was: Give fruits to the maid servant once in a while. Apparently, she is pregnant. I am so glad our maid servant is already pregnant….I can`t visualize Rekha`s reaction if I had to tell her after a few months that our maid was pregnant. It would have been too much of a coincidence.
Of the tasks labeled Monthly, nothing interests me. All of them are about paying back to banks, institutions etc. Didn`t somebody once say, “Life is all about giving.” How true.
We landed in Kerala on Saturday afternoon. Like Keralites, even their trains are laid back. Don`t ask me how I know…for on our way I saw 14 compartments of one of their trains lying on their backs in a paddy field. Not something one would appreciate. Especially, during the weekend when there is so much rush.
As usual Rekha`s father was at the station. Apparently, he had come to the railway station two days in advance….so that he didn`t get late for receiving us. I said: ‘Accha, you could have come in today afternoon…why come two days ago?”
“That`s fine Rajan….I didn`t buy any platform tickets. Whenever the railway police came, I hid under a gunny bag from which I had evicted a homeless child.”
One can`t really argue with a person like him so I opted for the lesser of the two devils. I started talking to Rekha again.
While leaving for Chennai again, I held back tears and told her as only a man can pretend: “So, you are on your home soil. Six month here and you will turn into the daughter of the soil again with a hibiscus flower in your wet, greasy hair topped by a pearl-colored saree.”
She didn`t reply…too choked perhaps. Sometimes love can hurt.