‘House-Wife’ Unplugged

promisesThe humble ‘house-wife’ has to be a pro at so many concepts to make sure her house runs like a well-oiled machine. Don’t believe me?

For example –

Chemistry

She can instinctively rattle off what spices go into which item and unnecessary condiments can ruin a culinary delight.

She easily manages to have a rapport with all the teachers and tutors or with the moms of class WhatsApp group

She can smell the chemistry or the budding romance of her brats.


Physics –

She very adroitly balances so many distinct personalities at home.

See-saws between twenty activities simultaneously.

She is the fulcrum. On the flip side, try applying force on her to get work done! You will just have to accelerate your way out of the tempest that could get unleashed.


Maths –

She knows what sells where at what rate.

Commodities pricing is her playground. Try beating her at this purchasing game.

Just watch her divide the food amongst family. No one remains hungry or unhappy. She also remembers every single mark her brat gets, using it to leverage as and when the situation demands.


Arts (Dramatics/History/Linguistics) –

The stories she can spin at bedtime for the moppets can put a Shakespeare to shame 

Her recounting of all the past misdemeanors to win an argument can put the Gyaani Google, out of business.

Words? Words are all she has, to make the heart melt!


EQ – By god, she knows how to make the maids stick and tick. That itself a herculean task to accomplish.

She knows when to pamper the child and when to bullshit the hell out of her brat. Can see through husband’s tall tales uttered to get out of a sticky situation.

IQ – To manage the above said, her IQ has to be stratospheric ain’t it?

Still any doubts?

So, husbands, you have some very big shoes to fill in.

Time to ramp up your act.

Lady, time to flaunt that killer smile and walk ten feet tall!

/author’s note – it is just a funny write-up, no agenda involved whatsoever – Amen */

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Kahani Ek – Teen Endings

 

Kahani #1

“Neha, I’ve chosen a boy for you”

“But Daddy I love someone deeply”

“Girl, Mine works in a Fortune500 company”

“Daddy, mine says I’m his good fortune, has 500 nice things to say about me”

“Neha, my Raj will take you for a cruise on the Thames, for dinner by the Eiffel Tower”

“Daddy, my Rahul will take me to Tirthan and serenade”

“Neha, think about your FB profile after marriage!”

Neha thought deeply.

After fifteen days NehaRaj updated her FB, Instagram with pictures of her honeymoon in Europe with hashtags like #soulmate #truelove

Love is also being practical!

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Kahani #2

“Neha, I have chosen a boy for you”

“But Daddy I love someone else deeply”

“Neha, My choice works in a Fortune 500 company”

“Daddy, my choice says I’m his good fortune and has 500 nice things to say about me”

“Neha, my choice, Raj, will take you for a cruise on the Thames and for dinner by the Eiffel Tower”

“Daddy, my choice Rahul will take me to Nainital and serenade”

“Okay Neha, how do you like your FB profile to look?”

Neha thought deeply.

After a few days, Neha updated her FB profile, Instagram with pictures of her checking into a Grad-School with hashtags like #LoveCanWaitStudiesCan’t  #LifeGoals

Love is also about loving self! Deeply!!

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Kahani #3

“Neha, I have chosen a boy for you”

“But Daddy I love someone else deeply”

“Neha, My choice works in a Fortune 500 company”

“Daddy, my choice says I’m his good fortune and has 500 nice things to say about me”

“Neha, my choice, Raj, will take you for a cruise on the Thames and for dinner by the Eiffel Tower”

“Daddy, my choice Rahul will take me to Shimla and serenade”

“Okay Neha, how do you like your FB profile to look?”

Neha thought deeply.

After a few days, Neha Rahul updated her FB profile, Instagram with pictures of her checking into an Airbnb with hashtags like #LoveMakesTheWorldBetter #LifeGoals

Because Rahul completes Neha! Neha treasures Rahul

Because True Love is a difficult treasure to find and hold onto!

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Dilemma

On a stuffy day, the husband went off on his weekly trip to the districts to oversee and number crunch for his happening business.
The wifey was bored to death because the house was running like a well-oiled machine, thanks to the lovely Bangla machinery who had their own separate entrance to the pristine premises ( by the euphemistically worded ‘service entrance’ )
The bacchus had their day-long school and then in the evening the driver would cart the brats to their various classes (football/swimming/dancing etc)
So the wifey decided a day with her intimate girl-gang was her savior from boredom.
The snazzily named WhatsApp group buzzed like mad and the girls set up a date for the afternoon.
The wifey pitched for the talk of the Gaon, the newly opened coffee shop which served ridiculously priced, fancily named potions which were akin to dishwater. This coffee shop was tucked in a happening book-store. Maybe some titles which promised much gravitas could be procured too. These pathos pages looked good on the coffee table next to the leather sofa. Plus these titles were sure-shot conversation starters where the assembled guests tched-tched in empathy and then moved onto discussing their latest holiday in Tuscany.
The wifey fired up her laptop and Googled ( Funny how a proper noun has become a properly acceptable verb) about the said coffee-shop, clicked on images to check out the interiors. The girls would be Instagramming later about the date. The pics had to be ‘Ohh-La-La’.
And the wifey sat stunned. ‘She was shocked’ would be an understatement. Someone had hit her in the solar-plexus and continue to pummel her in the gut.
The wifey enlarged the image for greater clarity. It was unmistakable. The man in the picture with his hands cupping his cheeks, and a salivating puppy dog expression was her husband alright, listening with rapt attention to a woman in black. She had her back to the camera, so only her long shiny tresses were visible.
More than the woman in the picture, the glint and the looney smile on her husband’s face, burnt the core of the wifey.
When was the last time he had listened to her thus, putting all his paraphernalia down and gazing into her black orbs?
Uff? This was unbearable. True, it was an innocuous snap. God knows who all had seen this and laughed behind her back. What gory stories did this picture hide?
But did she not go out with her male friends? Of course, the husband knew all about it! Did that settle the issue then?
The Whatsapp group buzzed questioningly. She ignored her phone as she tried to make sense of her predicament.
Should she question the husband or not?
And the husband’s call was coming in to announce that he had landed safely.

Should she pick the phone and lash out straight away or wait for him to come back to his lair? The phone went quiet but a loving ping with red hearts arrived. It was the husband confirming that he had landed and was hoping to wind up the work soon as he was missing her already. This was definitely new. Missing her and sending red hearts – What was happening. What obvious signs had she missed?

The wifey then canceled the date using the ‘That time of the month‘ clause, got ready quickly taking care to dress conservatively. She didn’t want any undue attention on her you see. She then set out to the coffee shop in question.

The coffee shop at that hour was barely occupied. Suited her just fine. She disappeared into a wing selling Non-fiction, which gave her a 180-degree view of the coffee shop. The morning shift was changing and the new cashier was taking over.

Wait, there was something vaguely familiar about him. Trim, dressed in black and long tresses with a hint of golden highlights. As he turned back to adjust his counter, the wifey stared at the stark motif on his T-shirt. It was a giant slash across 377 written in bold golden letters on a  rainbow flag. The very same motif that was on the black shirt of the lady whom the husband had been listening to.

The wifey froze.

She couldn’t do this guessing game anymore. She marched straight to the counter and cooed softly, “Hi there, I was going through the images of your coffee shop and couldn’t help noticing your T-shirt. You see this picture on my mobile? This too has the same design. What does this mean?”

The man at the counter stared at her and gravely asked, “Are you from the press?”

“No”

“That sign means down with Article 377! LGBTQ lives matter!”

The wifey didn’t quite know how to proceed now. She decided to take the harakiri plunge anyways. “Oh, I didn’t know that. So you must have many supporters then. Like this one” She said tapping at the picture on her mobile.

“Why that’s me in that pic.” Nodded the man happily. The wifey now gulped.

“And this one?” She was barely audible when she pointed to her husband’s face.

“Ahh! The Man! He is an ardent supporter of our gay cause. He is a dear friend of mine. He often comes here to prep us up.” said the man with a flourish.

“Dear friend huh? Prepping up huh? Really?” A girl who was whipping a cup of cappuccino guffawed loudly, winked at the man and backslapped him while the man blushed to a deep red.

The wifey stared at them blankly. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t sit. She couldn’t comprehend.

So her husband had colorful secrets and she was the perfect dour cover. And now what?

The wifey came home eventually and waited for the husband’s version of the naked truth while she went through their joint accounts, immovable and movable assets.

Both had some cleaning up to do. One had to come clean. The second had to clear.

Because marriage is also about being practical!

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30 Minutes Timer To Just Write

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This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’

30 Minutes timer to write

To write whatever comes to your mind, without the worry of corrections and paying attention to grammar. It is a cardinal sin, one part of me screams.

This from someone who wrote -Florence Nightingale was a promiscuous lady ( I thought this was some kickass word ).

About 4 years back, as i struggled with a major disease, i started writing these lil daily snippets on facebook. Then gingerly ventured into story writing. One fine day, a mail came asking for permission to print a story of mine – Awright! No one fools in June right? That is an April Trick. Turned out the mail was as true as sunrise.

One thing led to another and now i feel incomplete unless i write something and unleash on the poor unsuspecting world. How they react to it? Well that is the thing about fb. It does announce to the world when so and so become friends but when someone unfriends you, you wouldn’t even know. So in the comforting bliss of my ignorance, I flood the cyber-space, that they are eagerly lapping it up (shh- even if you are not, don’t say it!)

But these days, there is a ritual to be followed once you decide to write your quota of 400 words.

  1. Charge your Mac
  2. Check into fb – shower the like/love on posts you love and like ( yeah it is the other way round) – hoping that you will be showered with similar love. Fingers crossed.
  3. Now that Amazon Prime has been picked at 11:30 pm on the last day of the 499/- offer, check if any new shows/movies have been added. Curse self for not seeing House of Cards completely, before they spaced out Kevin.
  4. And frown at web.whatsapp with its crazily mushrooming groups and the ‘Hello it is a beautiful Morning! You are super special! Go seize the day!” pings. Everyone gets the same message okay? So everyone is unique and special no? Aila! First of all, Mine was a terrible Sunday where i suffered the whole day with the knots in my stomach – Wisdom tooth as is expected is coming horizontally (that explains everything!) and I stare at a root canal thrown in as a bonus. Okay I love ‘Buy one- Get one Free’ But this is bumper bonus!  Plus the washing machine creates Madras Flash floods in the kitchen the moment I switch on. The service engineer cannot come because his stock of gasket has been eaten by rats! I swear i am not making up anything. While I lie groaning holding teeth, husband and daughter cook. Something positive did come out of the mayhem.
  5. And on cue son calls. He was always a nut, now he is a health nut. He starts off with a grandiose ‘I am disappointed with you’ Oh yeah that means I am top notch mom. But this time because we haven’t kickstarted our health fix. He then proceeds to give a dressing down to hubby and daughter at the skewed gender bender. They should be more self-sufficient! Have you ever been in liquid oxygen? The type that can not kill you yet wont let you die – same thing I feel – don’t know whether to be exhilarated or cry in agony.
  6. Finally to actual writing. Funnily, without fail, always my daughter takes out her ukulele and belts out top 50 chart busters in UK and USA too. Though the expenses of her music classes now seem to be well worth it – there are times i want to be like that uni-dimensionally angry poppa of secret-superstar – You know, Ukulele’s strings magically get &*^&&. But I know what hell will await me, if that were to happen. Did we forget that husband? He chooses that very moment to share something that happened in Tunisia or those seminary innocuous news bits but will be counted tomorrow as the footprints that changed the world. I nod, I also listen though sometimes, I just hear.
  7. Finally peace! But by now, I have quite forgotten what I was going to write. So i start the loop again – Now you know why I am an eternal Work In Progress? 
  8. Phew I have been writing for  the past 28 minutes continuously- Just whatever came to my mind.
  9. This is the unedited, first draft as the rules demand. I started at 10:30pm and at 11:00PM 😀
  10. So it is a Yes I Can – There is Hope and tomorrow is a better day! Amen
  11. Pens down

Jab Harry Met Sejal

#jabharrymetsejal @AnushkaSharma  @iamsrk #imtiazali

Dear Imtiaz, SRK,

Oh, Boy! Where do I start? Let us get down to the brass tacks first!

What exactly were you snorting on, Dude? Spill the beans already! You had to be high on something to make THIS and pass off on US! Must have thought ‘Inpe Sab Chalega!’

I’m imagining the scene at Mannat while Mrs Khan is darting arrows at PC’s poster and tending to Abram. You both are in the balcony – Just chilling, having red wine!

SRK : “Yaar Imtiaz ‘Piktur banate’!

Imtiaz: “Shah! No Mon, No Fun!

SRK : “No worries! Home Production! Mirchi lagadenge! Woh Bhi lalwaali!

Imtiaz : “Story? My last outing was a ‘Tamasha’, you know!

SRK: “Why do you need a story when I can be in each frame, in HD? Tumhe pata haina , I can romance even a doorknob! Line lag jaayegi ticket counter pe! You try yet another angst filled, nomadic, overgrown man-child, who needs rescuing by another scatterbrained soul-searcher! Ooh I’m getting goose pimples. And get that Bengali babu who churns out killer Punjabi beats!

Imtiaz : “Bro! You are a RockstarSocha Na ThaAhista Ahista kya Cocktail ban rahi Hai!

SRK : “There’s more! Let’s show Europe and get all the travel agents on board! Discount mil jayegi! Better still. I will play a travel guide. Of course, I will drive a dishy car, sport kickass threads. What say to three buttons open with a tattoo peeking?

Imtiaz : “Done! We also recycle the title of my most successful flick. What will be the angst about? I have already dealt with ‘follow your call’, ‘dreams’, ‘molesting’ “

SRK : “Who cares? Punjab ki Khet B/W mein aur Colour mean dikhadena. Show some grooving lassies in dhinchak costumes, which even the locals wouldn’t be caught dead wearing. All in the name of authenticity! Be with me Bro. I will lead you, whenever you need help. Actually, that could be every minute.”

Imtiaz : “Don’t worry! So long as you are putting in the monies! Who will play the heroine?

SRK : “Anoushka ko lelete. Sweet hai, simple hai. Sister types. Wife won’t get jealous too. Dippy bahut Pricey ban gayi, Vin Diesel ke saath, kaam jo karli

Imtiaz : “I’m dancing on the ‘High’Way now!

SRK : “Gujjus are the flavor of the year.  Let us make Anoushka mouth silly Gujjuisms to get the laughs. I will play hard to get while she frets why can’t I paw the sexy her?”

Imtiaz : “Oh I get it. Chastity for thy love. But that was Raj in 90s. This is 2020! Will being formulaic sell? Eh?”

SRK : “Like crazy! I will then protect Anoushka from goons at a pub and she will swoon to become the ‘Cheap Aurat’ who will run away from her engagement, settled posh life to become a Mrs. Tourist Guide. How romantic Na? The Snap-chat Gen will simply eat out of my hands.  And one more thing! I really want to kiss on the screen yaar! 50+ ka ho gaya hoon! Aur CV mein, not even one smooching scene!

At this point Imtiaz passes out and SRK marches into the house, singing happily “BadSHAH hoon main BADShah!

(The Puckering Scene is the yuckiest I have seen so far! Ghar aake listerine kari )

A zonked viewer

One Night

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’

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11:22 PM. 8 minutes to go before the cabbie arrived at the gate. I quickly gulped down the sticky Maggie, put some clothes, checked my purse for money, grabbed my phone.

11:28 PM  2 minutes to go before the cabbie arrived at the gate. I sprinted down, tucking my shirt in, hoping to be there at the gate, before the cabbie. I couldn’t bear his accusatory tone, if I was late.

11:30 PM Paradise regained. Rupa was in the cab and so was Sonali. In 30 minutes, it was Rupa’s birthday. I was hoping to get her nod tonight. I had spent a packet on a ring to gift Rupa and seal the bond.

Rupa smiled warmly. A good omen! Sonali smirked. Nothing unusual. The cabbie revved up. He was in a hurry. As he sped on the bustling roads, braking at will and barely managing to avoid colliding into vehicles.

Rupa became nervous. She slipped her fingers into mine and held onto them. Smirking Sonali, let go at the cabbie, who slowed down momentarily and stuck to his original speed. As we turned into a lane, BAMM! The cabbie managed to bang into a pizza delivery guy, who flew into air on impact. To avoid hurting him further, the cabbie swerved and crashed into a tree.

1:00 AM Rupa wokeup, to see the mayhem around. Air-bags had saved the cabbie. But he was unconscious. Sonali sat rubbing her head. mumbling something incoherently in Marathi. Her man, seemed to have passed out too, though fingers were still entwined. There is this persistent mooing sound. They were in a no-network patch.

1:30 AM Rupa shookher man and Sonali. The man was stirring. So he wasn’t dead. They both comforted each other and came out slowly to check the mayhem. They  flashed  their mobiles to see the extent of damage. The pizza delivery guy was no where to be found. They searched under the vehicle, over the cab. No sign of the guy. But the mooing was now loud and clear. To their utter horror, they saw one horn of a buffalo sandwiched between the bumper and the tree. The Buffalo wasn’t hurt but shocked.

2:00 AM Sonali shook the driver, who slowly resurfaced. He got down to see the bonnet smashed up. And they all heard some feeble sounds coming from the tree. As they all craned their necks to see, they could make out the outline of the pizza delivery boy. The impact had landed him on the top branches and he was moaning. Except the cabbie no one knew how climb trees except the driver, who wasn’t exactly in shape to do so. The mooing was getting stronger. The buffalo was now petrified. They all gathered and somehow managed to push the cab away from the tree, enough for the buffalo to move away. The moment it wriggled, one horn that was sandwiched broke into half and the buffalo ran away.

3:00 AM The ladies, the cabbie and the man were now petrified. What if a crowd gathered and beat them to pulp. But they couldn’t leave the pizza delivery guy, up the wall. How about shaking the tree? The pizza guy continued to moan.

3:15 AM the cabbie somehow dragged himself up and helped the pizza delivery guy down. As they all gathered, firstly they wolfed down an entire pizza and then started walking ahead. Till they found help.

As the day broke, both the cab and the scooter were towed away. Everyone got a day to recover.

And as the day ended a one horned buffalo was trending. Nobody knew what happened.

Rain

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This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’

It was the pitter patter sound that woke Simran up. The sound of steady fall of water droplets, on her glass window,

The rain seemed to come down in sheets. Everything was wet, washed  and the leaves actually looked fresh and green.

This particular shade of green was something she had seen, way back in time, when she was carefree, young and deeply in love.

A period of time, when Simran used to hop onto a local to Lonavala, to trek the Western Ghats along with the love of her life, Raj, and the incessant rain would caress her curves while the mesmerizing greenery would intoxicate her.

Her utterly smitten Raj would share hot cups of masala chai with his Simran as they bundled together, quivering and shivering.

Simran Verma stole a glance towards her husband, Raj Verma, snoring away, utterly unmindful of the beauty of nature, dancing right in front of him, and sighed wistfully.

Her mobile sprang to life. ” MemSaab, Not coming for work today. It is raining cats and dogs”.

The phone was disconnected even before Simran could utter a word.

“Oh these bloody bloody *&^%* rains!!”