Just another day in the life of a husband and wife

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At around 9’o clock in the night Mahesh reached home. He had got late by an hour but his wife Priya decided against asking. Mahesh was not in his usual jolly self; not even reacted when she told him about how their year old kid had killed an ant.

Give him some time to settle, her mother-in-law had once advised. But just as the advisor wouldn’t have heeded to that advice for more than ten minutes, so did the advised.

That night he too was waiting for her to raise the issue.

“I seriously have to do something about this Kunal guy”.

“Why what happened? But before that who is he?”

“He is working with me on that hash project. And all day he is dancing around that new-comer Indira”.

“So what’s your problem? Complain to your boss that he is not working properly. As simple as that.”

Arre you don’t know. Even that poor girl will get caught in this.”

If Priya would have ignored this as just another professional-tension-brought-home, the soft-corner for the girl had suddenly raised her tentacles and enticed her to listen for more. But she didn’t want Mahesh to know so soon that she was eying him with suspicion. She didn’t want him to become cautious.

“So what is your problem?” The ‘your’ had been overly emphasized although Priya had exercised caution.

Thankfully Mahesh didn’t notice.

“She is married. And that Kunal has already started romancing her.”


“That’s the problem with these young kids. They have their hearts on their collars. Some days I feel like calling her husband and telling him how this guy is duping his wife.”

“But why are you so concerned about that woman”, Priya had finally come to the point.

Arre she is married and…”, Mahesh suddenly realized the trap he had walked into.

After a momentary silence, he began his defense.

“Why do you always feel your husband is that ultimate Romeo or Casanova? Seeing me, what gives you the idea that some girl would fall for me?”

“Did I say anything”, Priya feigned.

“That’s the problem with you. You don’t say anything but say a lot of things.”

“Delhi girls are like that only”, she defended.

“Does that mean all Delhi girls are pros? Great man! Only that I didn’t get one such girl.”

“See the truth has come out. So you actually want someone like that.”

“And when do I get time to do all of this? In the morning I leave for office and come exactly on time on most evenings. On weekends I rarely go out, and that too is with you. So when do I actually do all of these things you say I am doing?”

“I didn’t say you do those things. But you might do. Delhi girls are like that only.”

“Okay, so what’s the solution? I sit at home. If I won’t go outside, I won’t meet any of the Delhi girls. Is that fine with you?”

“Okays leave that. I have made tasty palak pakoras. Go and get fresh until I warm them. Then we will eat together.”

“Hunh! Someday I feel you just get a thrill of these arguments. That’s why you raise them all the time. Hurry up! I am really very hungry after the tiring day.”

10 thoughts on “Just another day in the life of a husband and wife

    • Hey Roshan, thanks for coming by my blog. Before I got so busy that I didn’t find time for my favourite timepass (i.e. reading blogs) I was very much a regular on your blog. More comments on this matching post will follow on your blog.

  1. Hee hee. Interesting argument. Indeed, no arguments are too trivial to bring up when it’s a love relationship that’s going to be the stage.

    P.S.: Palak pakoras! *makes mental note to get some over the weekend *

  2. INTERESTING!!! Is there a way to follow your blogs? I stumbled upon these as i hunted for complete summary of The bachelor of Arts…but your other articles are equally interesting!!

    • Neki aur pooch pooch. Follow me yaar. I hope you can subscribe to my RSS feed at the top right corner. Also if you are on Google reader, just call for the feed to my blog at http://ityaadi.org/feed/

      BTW do you like Bachelor of Arts? It’s one of my favourite books. I lost the book or I would make it a point to read it sometimes.

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