Ammalu, why don’t we go for a sleep out?’
‘Don’t we have space inside the house?’
‘Not that, Ammalu. We spend a night in a hotel, enjoy and come back’
‘Sorry, SP. hotel enjoyment, I dislike. Home enjoyment, if you know anything new, tell me. Otherwise, your chukkuvellam is in your flask, in your room. My chukkuvellam is in my flask in my room. Good night’
——————————-
A man becomes a man only when he marries and establishes his supremacy over his wife. What say Ammalu?’
‘Where is he?’
—————————-
One lie a day, I can understand, as it is you and you are my husband. One lie a minute is too much for me, but God may tolerate, because He is God and not your wife. But SP, one lie a second, even God can’t withstand. That was why he removed the second needle from our clock! Look at the clock on the wall’
‘What are you talking Ammalu? There is no clock on the wall. It is my Oxford graduation picture’
‘So, God removed the clock itself! There is a limit for anything, including telling lies to one’s wife’
‘You, my wife? You’re my God, Ammalu’
‘Look there. The wall too just vanished!’
———————————
‘I want to write a poem comparing wives to kariveppilai or curry leaves, which are thrown out, after the essence has been extracted into sambar. Not applicable to you, though. What say Ammalu?’
‘Our servant woman Suppamma showed me a letter she wrote to her husband, who slapped her last night and escaped to his native village. On translation, it sounded something similar to this:
‘Yadu pettukko, remember, you are nothing but a vessel which I heat on the direct flame for my pappu and pulusu, , ( dal and sambar ) and after the use is over, dump into the washing area’
There are other women who have similar poetic talents and they may write better poetry than you and publish too. Not applicable to you though’
———————————-
Ammalu, am I your God, guru, mentor, monitor, heartbeats or pranavayu ?
‘Husband’
‘That any other woman will say’
‘If any other woman says that, I will smash her head’
————————————————
The gentleman who came to our house this morning was not a gentleman, Ammalu. Through his greedy eyes and thick glasses, he was staring at you’
‘That was not a man at all, SP; that was a woman, my old friend Subbamma. She was appreciating my sari’
‘Oh, if the guest was a woman, she was cravingly looking at me’
‘Can’t say, but I can say one thing. She has already two husbands, one a boxer and the other a police officer, one to punch and the other to pinch. Even an inch space is not vacant with her at present’
‘I don’t munch what you say, madam sahiba!’
‘Then get crunched; what else can I do, SP!’