A cell-phone rings at 9 o’clock in the morning in an apartment in Pune.
The husband picks up, pauses for a moment as if hearing something, and says, “Don’t worry, I’ll be there on time,” and then he switches off the mobile phone and keeps it in his pocket.
He then shouts to his wife, who is in the kitchen: “I’m going out for some work. I’ll be back around one thirty or two for lunch.”
“Where are you going...? You’ve taken leave today. Let’s go shopping...and then we'll go for lunch and a movie.”
“Please. Not today. I’ve taken leave just for this important thing.”
“Important thing…? What important thing…? Where are you going…?” the wife persists.
The husband does not want to tell her but he knows now that he has no choice but to tell her. He knows his wife’s nature so well – she is not going to rest till she finds out. She will nag him to death until he tells her.
So he decides to tell her the bare minimum.
“I am going to the Family Court,” he says.
“Family Court…? Why…?” his wife shrieks in amazement.
“A divorce case,” the husband says nonchalantly.
“Divorce case…? You are filing a divorce case…? You are trying to divorce me behind my back…?” the wife yells hysterically.
“Will you please be quiet and listen…? It’s not us. Suhana has asked me to come for the hearing.”
“Suhana…? Who is this Suhana…?”
“You’ve met her. She’s my colleague at work.”
“Oh...so it is That Suhana…! I knew you always had a soft corner for her.”
“It’s her final divorce hearing today and she’s called me.”
“Divorce case…? Suhana…? She called you…? How are you involved…? I hope the divorce is not because of you…? I knew you’d do something stupid. You are so gullible you know – you must have got trapped by her, fell victim to her charms and now you are in trouble being summoned by courts. Respectable persons never see the insides of a court in their entire lives...!”
“Will you please keep quiet…? You just go on and on…! Suhana has called me just to give her emotional support...”
“Emotional support…? From you…? So this Suhana needs emotional support from you…? Why you…? Tell me…why you…? I knew there was some hanky-panky going on. I’m coming with you. Can’t you see what she’s up to…?”
“Please…please calm down and don’t jump to conclusions. Suhana is just a colleague going through a rough patch. As a friend, I have to help her out, show her a bit of compassion and kindness…that’s all…”
“Compassion…? Compassion, my foot…! This compassion may soon turn into passion…!” the wife says sarcastically, “I tell you…Drying a divorcee’s tears is one of the most dangerous pastimes for a man, especially a married man…!”
“Pastime…? I’m not going there for amusement. I'm going just to help out a colleague…”
“Oh, yes. An attractive colleague in distress, isn’t it...? And our Knight in shining armor is rushing to her rescue…!”
“Okay. Why don’t you come along and see for yourself...” the husband says exasperated.
The moment he utters those words he instantly regrets it, but it is too late.
His wife has already picked up her purse and is heading towards the door.
“Why are they divorcing…?” the wife asks, as they are driving in their car from their house in Shivpeth towards the Family Court in city.
“It’s divorce by mutual consent.”
“Mutual consent…? What nonsense…! There must be some other reason.”
“No. They have just agreed to separate.”
“Agreed to separate…? If they can agree to separate, why can’t they agree to stay together…?”
“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask Suhana that…!” the husband says irritated.
“Of course I will. And I’ll give a piece of my mind to her husband too and tell him to stop harassing his wife.”
“Please…I beg you…for heaven’s sake don’t say anything stupid and embarrassing to them over there. He is not harassing her. They are parting amicably, as friends. I told you, it is an amicable divorce by mutual consent...”
“What nonsense…? Amicable divorce by mutual consent…! There is no such thing as amicable divorce…!”
“What do you mean…? So many people have amicable divorces now-a-days and part as friends.”
“Nonsense…! It’s all nonsense, a cover up… Amicable Divorce is a big lie – an oxymoron.”
“Oxymoron…?”
“Yes. Tell me, how can divorce be amicable…? If a marriage is really so amicable, why divorce in the first place…? If they can divorce and remain friends, I am sure they can remain married and be friends, isn’t it…?”
“I don’t know. Please let's talk something else.”
“I am sure there is something fishy...”
“Will you please keep quiet and let me drive the car in peace…?”
“What’s her husband’s name…?”
“Nilesh.”
“See… Suhana and Nilesh… even their names are compatible,” the wife says, I am certain that there must be some adultery involved. This Nilesh must be having an affair. Or it must be Suhana. Yes it's her. I’m sure she is having an affair…!”
“Don’t be stupid. She’s not like that.”
“How do you know…?”
“I know her for so many years now. She’s quite close to me. She’s told me everything…”
“Close to you…? She is close to you…? Oh, My God…! I hope it’s not you…?”
“Me…? Will you please shut up…? I told you it is mutual incompatibility…!”
“Mutual Incompatibility my foot…! Let me tell you there is no one in this world who is more mutually incompatible than you and me…! But are we divorcing…?”
“Why don’t we…? At least I’ll have some peace and respite from your constant nagging…”
“Ah…you want to divorce me so you can marry her, is it…? You’ve got a hope in heaven…! I’ll cling on to you till my dying day… And then I will follow you as a ghost and even to heaven after that…”
They drive in silence for a while and then the wife asks, "Has she got any children…?”
“Yes. Two. A boy and a girl. In school…”
“Poor kids. What will happen to them…?”
“They’ll go off to a boarding school for a while till Suhana settles down...”
“It’s funny. They’ve got children and are divorcing. We don’t have any children, but we are carrying on together…!”
"Yes,” the husband says, “I really wonder…! We constantly fight but we stay together... and they have such a cordial relationship but they want to separate…”
“Marriage is not supposed to be cordial and cold,” the wife says lovingly, snuggling up affectionately to her long-married husband.
“I’ve realized one thing,” says the husband dotingly hugging his much-married wife.
“What…?”
“The opposite of love is not hate – the opposite of love is indifference.”
Friday, 13 August 2010
Sunday, 1 August 2010
Old Mr. Bali
“Hello?” he answered into the phone.
“Is Uday there?” came the gravelly, unsure voice of the aged man on the other end.
“Uday? No one here by that name.”
“Is this little Shekhar Lambe?”
“Yes. May I ask who’s calling?”
“This is Shitesh Bali.” A ghost from the distant past.
“Mr. Bali?”
“Yes, son.”
“Wow. It’s had to have been fifteen years, at least.”
“Seventeen.”
“Golly.”
“I’ve been gone for a long time.”
“You can say that again.”
“Well, I’ve been back now a week and I can’t seem to find anyone I know. They’re either dead or gone. I happened to see your ad in the newspaper for your shop and thought you might be able to point me to your father.”
“I wish I could, Mr. Bali. But, truth be told, my father and I haven’t spoken in quite a while. I’ve heard he moved out of the state, but I certainly wouldn’t know how to get a hold of him.”
“You haven’t spoken to him?”
“No, sir. We had a bit of a falling out and sort of went our separate ways.”
“How long has it been since you talked to him?”
“Oh… Nine, maybe ten years. We stopped speaking shortly after he and my mother separated.”
“Your parents separated?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Why? I mean, if you don’t mind my asking.”
“Lots of reasons, I suppose. Chiefly though, I think it was money. I think he loved money more than anyone. She was the sort to spend it freely, regardless of how hard-earned it was on those she loved, not realizing that the money was the greater love for him.”
“Did she tell you that? Your mother?”
“To tell the truth, sir, I never really talked to her about it. Frankly, I never really speak to her about much of anything. Over the years I simply surmised as much. But where have you been all these years, Mr. Bali?”
“Abroad. Here and there. I don’t expect you to understand, but I had to leave the world for a while. Now I’m back and trying to pick up where I left off and it’s been so terribly difficult…”
“Everyone wondered where you’d left to. It all seemed so sudden.”
“Hmmm…”
“Most people thought you must have died. You didn’t write or call.”
“It was for the best. But it does bother me that things changed so much in my absence.”
“That seems quite selfish to run away for the better part of twenty years and expect everything to be the same when you get back. People change, Mr. Bali. But I imagine you knew that.”
“Sometimes you know a thing and still hope it’s not true. And it seems as though you’ve changed into a respectable young man. You have your own business, you seem respectable and well-off. Your father would be proud of you.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. My success doesn’t profit him.”
“Perhaps you’re being a bit cynical. Or maybe, perhaps, you’re right.”
“Perhaps.”
“Since I’m in town, would you care to join me for coffee sometime? We can catch up properly.”
“Well, I am quite busy with work…”
“I understand, no time for old friends of your parents.”
“It’s not—“
“—It’s alright.”
“We could do it next week…?”
“No. I’ll be long away from this place this time next week. Truly, you’ve made me realize there really is nothing left for me here.”
“I might be able to break away this afternoon, if—“
“No. I insist. Your work is important, I understand that. Thank you for speaking to me as long as you have. If you do happen to speak to your father again, you’ll tell him that I was looking for him, yes?”
“Mr. Bali, I can’t see that happening. But, if by the grace of God we happen to run into each other and he’s gotten over himself and I’ve, by some miracle, been able to get over myself, then I’ll be sure to mention it.”
“Thank you. That is all I ask.”
“It’s all right. I suppose it was good talking to you, Mr. Bali.”
“It was good speaking with you as well, Shekhar. You’re a good lad.”
Shekhar hung up the phone and was struck by the absurd and unlikely nature of the call he’d just received.
“Is Uday there?” came the gravelly, unsure voice of the aged man on the other end.
“Uday? No one here by that name.”
“Is this little Shekhar Lambe?”
“Yes. May I ask who’s calling?”
“This is Shitesh Bali.” A ghost from the distant past.
“Mr. Bali?”
“Yes, son.”
“Wow. It’s had to have been fifteen years, at least.”
“Seventeen.”
“Golly.”
“I’ve been gone for a long time.”
“You can say that again.”
“Well, I’ve been back now a week and I can’t seem to find anyone I know. They’re either dead or gone. I happened to see your ad in the newspaper for your shop and thought you might be able to point me to your father.”
“I wish I could, Mr. Bali. But, truth be told, my father and I haven’t spoken in quite a while. I’ve heard he moved out of the state, but I certainly wouldn’t know how to get a hold of him.”
“You haven’t spoken to him?”
“No, sir. We had a bit of a falling out and sort of went our separate ways.”
“How long has it been since you talked to him?”
“Oh… Nine, maybe ten years. We stopped speaking shortly after he and my mother separated.”
“Your parents separated?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Why? I mean, if you don’t mind my asking.”
“Lots of reasons, I suppose. Chiefly though, I think it was money. I think he loved money more than anyone. She was the sort to spend it freely, regardless of how hard-earned it was on those she loved, not realizing that the money was the greater love for him.”
“Did she tell you that? Your mother?”
“To tell the truth, sir, I never really talked to her about it. Frankly, I never really speak to her about much of anything. Over the years I simply surmised as much. But where have you been all these years, Mr. Bali?”
“Abroad. Here and there. I don’t expect you to understand, but I had to leave the world for a while. Now I’m back and trying to pick up where I left off and it’s been so terribly difficult…”
“Everyone wondered where you’d left to. It all seemed so sudden.”
“Hmmm…”
“Most people thought you must have died. You didn’t write or call.”
“It was for the best. But it does bother me that things changed so much in my absence.”
“That seems quite selfish to run away for the better part of twenty years and expect everything to be the same when you get back. People change, Mr. Bali. But I imagine you knew that.”
“Sometimes you know a thing and still hope it’s not true. And it seems as though you’ve changed into a respectable young man. You have your own business, you seem respectable and well-off. Your father would be proud of you.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. My success doesn’t profit him.”
“Perhaps you’re being a bit cynical. Or maybe, perhaps, you’re right.”
“Perhaps.”
“Since I’m in town, would you care to join me for coffee sometime? We can catch up properly.”
“Well, I am quite busy with work…”
“I understand, no time for old friends of your parents.”
“It’s not—“
“—It’s alright.”
“We could do it next week…?”
“No. I’ll be long away from this place this time next week. Truly, you’ve made me realize there really is nothing left for me here.”
“I might be able to break away this afternoon, if—“
“No. I insist. Your work is important, I understand that. Thank you for speaking to me as long as you have. If you do happen to speak to your father again, you’ll tell him that I was looking for him, yes?”
“Mr. Bali, I can’t see that happening. But, if by the grace of God we happen to run into each other and he’s gotten over himself and I’ve, by some miracle, been able to get over myself, then I’ll be sure to mention it.”
“Thank you. That is all I ask.”
“It’s all right. I suppose it was good talking to you, Mr. Bali.”
“It was good speaking with you as well, Shekhar. You’re a good lad.”
Shekhar hung up the phone and was struck by the absurd and unlikely nature of the call he’d just received.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
