He called out to her, “Honey?” Then he called out again. “Where are you?” singing it out as if playing a game of hide-and-seek with his wife. She did not reply. He went around looking for her but found no trace of her. He made a face, the desire for pan-cake disappearing to the smell of last night’s leftover. Maybe she has gone for a quick run, he thought to himself. He decided to take a shower.
He spent a long time in the shower; hoping breakfast would be ready by the time he stepped out. He stood in front of the mirror for a while, staring at his bulging tummy. Hmph! He flared his nostrils and lifted his head to see inside them. Then he stuck his finger inside and began nose picking. It was a habit she despised but then she was not inside the bathroom with him.
After finally stepping out of the bathroom, he called out to her again. No reply. He bumbled about the house wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, his belly protruding obnoxiously. She hated it. He found it cute. Surely she loved it as well but only pretended to be angry. Now he began to worry a little. Where was she? He went back to the bedroom to fetch his mobile phone when he saw a paper next to it. He lifted it up to read. It only had two words on it:
“You. Asshole.”
He read it a few times. It was his wife’s handwriting for sure. If only there was an “i” in there, she would have drawn a heart over it. But then what did the message mean?
He gave her a call.
“Hey! Where are you?”
Silence.
“Hello? Hell-oooo”
Silence.
Call disconnected.
He called again.
“Hullo?”
“What do you want?”
“Where are you? I have been looking for you”
“Oh yeah? For me or for breakfast?”
He blushed.
“You know. A bit of both”, he mumbled.
“Screw you.”
Call disconnected.
He called again.
“What the hell do you want, you pig? Are you such an oaf that you can’t figure out what’s happening? You will get the divorce paper today. Now don’t you dare call me again. Get lost and go to hell.”
Call disconnected.
He didn’t know what had happened or why his wife would be so angry. Maybe the food last night had really upset her? He knew he couldn’t call her again because she was furious. Maybe I will wait for her to call. He waited for a long time hoping she might call and secretly hoping she would come back with some great breakfast as a compensation for getting mad at him even though it was her suggestion to order Chinese food. He had to change from his comfortable pyjamas to a pair of jeans and then go and collect the food. While waiting for her call, he munched a couple of packets of biscuits. Surely, she would not get angry for eating up whatever was lying around. He hadn’t even had breakfast!
He woke up a couple of hours later to his phone ringing . He was slumped on the couch with biscuit crumbs over his bare body. It was his manager calling. He winced even before he answered the call.
“Where the hell are you?”
He opened his mouth to reply but instead came a very unexpected and thoroughly unpleasant burp.
“You lazy ass! I want you in my office within half an hour”.
“But…”
Call disconnected.
He muttered to himself and began to get dressed. He tried to comb his hair but realized that a part of his hair towards the back of his head was standing up, refusing to get combed. He opened his closet to take out a tie but realized that his wife was not around to tie the knot. Mumbling, muttering, and thinking about lunch he reached his office, four hours late.
As he was going to his cubicle, he ran into his only friend-James-the janitor. James never really said much and he rarely had any opinions, thereby making him a good companion. And he ate less so he could pick food off his lunch plate. James listened patiently as he told him all about the incident with his wife. When he finally explained his Chinese food theory, James stared at him for a few seconds before saying, “you are an asshole” and then he went away. He stared at James in disbelief. His wife, his boss, and now James too! Everyone on Chinese food or what?
He finally walked into his manager’s office. One look at his uncombed hair, open collar, and bored eyes, and the manager burst out in profanities. “You are fired. Get lost” he added towards the end. He walked out of his manager’s office and decided to have lunch before leaving the office. The only good thing about Mondays was the addition of some French fries in the canteen lunch menu.
He walked out of his office carrying whatever little personal possession he had in his cubicle. He went to a nearby orphanage where he used to go every Sunday afternoon to read to the children. Often he would play with them or do other activities with them. They were very surprised to see him on a Monday but the children cheered him when they learnt that he would come to them every afternoon. He never really had any talent but every time when he made a fool of himself, the children loved it. The time he spent with the children…it was the only time he never thought of food.
Later in the evening that day, he went to a nearby park and settled down on a bench. He wondered if in his brief married life he should have told his wife where he went every Sunday afternoon. She would assume that he went to some idle friend of his. He played a little while with a neighbour’s baby, making funny faces for the baby to giggle at. When he finally got up to leave, it was dark. Would she be back by now, he wondered? Then his thoughts drifted away to dinner. Chinese takeaway?
-Parekh,
Pravesh
January
13, 2015
01:52
AM
NIMHANS
(SH-15)
