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‘Vicha, the newspaper fellow claims that he didn’t collect his bill for the last three months. Is he right?’

‘Anna, how do I know? You settle all bills and not me!’

‘So, you have no responsibility in this house? You are careless, forgetful, irresponsible—‘

‘Anna, I saw some clothes in the washing machine’

‘Oh, woo, woo, lying there for the past three days. Forgot completely’

‘You forgot to pickup the clothes from the machine for three days?’

‘Yes, yes, yes, yes’

‘And you shout at me for not remembering a three month old transaction where I had no role to pay?’

‘Oh, woo, woo, shall I make masala dosa for you for dinner ?’

A day of chats, it looks today.

‘Mama, namaskaram, aaseervaadam pannunkol’

‘Namaskaram, deerghasumangali bhava’

‘How do you know that I’m a sumangali?’

‘You called me ‘mAma’ ; so you should be a ‘mAmi’

‘If I’m unmarried?’

‘Still my blessings hold’

‘If I don’t want to marry?’

‘Still my blessings hold. Mangalam is auspiciousness. You will have it for long’

‘I’m your FB friend mama’

‘I know that. That was how you could chat with me’

‘I’m not like your other friends’

‘I know that too’

‘How, how?’

‘No one has told me what you said just now. So, you are different from others’

‘Thanks, uncle’

‘From mama to uncle?’

‘Yes, you don’t seems to be as old as I thought . Can I ask you something?!

‘Please go ahead, madam’

‘Mami to madam?!

‘You seems to be the daughter and not a mother. Go ahead with your question’

‘Thanks again. Are you really a bad character as you depict about about yourself?’

‘When did I do that ?’

‘Mostly. Your stories, poses with wine bottles, your jokes’

‘You consider those bad?’

‘Not bad, but I don’t like those’

‘If those are bad, I’m bad’

‘But you don’t look that bad’

‘I’m not that bad’

‘So you are not very good too?’

‘What is very good?’

‘Look like an elderly Brahmin, spiritual, matured, deal with topics which usualły people of your age talk about etc, etc’

‘I don’t have that elderly, matured, scholarly, spiritual look?’

‘No says my husband. He doesn’t like you’

‘I know that’

‘How do you know? He hasn’t told that to anyone except me! How did you come to know about it? Are you really the Mahamuni of Baltimore?’

‘Your husband is talking to me on phone’

‘Please, please don’t tell him that I told you about his dislike for you’

‘No need. He has told me his opinion about me’

‘What is that?’

‘I have a matured, spiritual, scholarly look!’

‘But, he told a lie to me?’

‘Don’t get emotional. All husbands tell one or two lies to their sweet hearts everyday’

‘You too?’

‘Pappa, I’m like any other man!’

‘Pappa!’

‘You seems to be ignorant of the basic knowledge a wife should possess’

‘Who is the best wife, according to you, mama?’

‘The woman who loves her husband best’

‘And no other qualities?’

‘All other qualities will automatically come. If a married couple love, sincerely love each other, all other attributes will automatically join them. Deficiency if any, will vanish or will be forgiven in due course . Love covers everything’

‘You talk like a saintly, matured, scholarly person. But shall I tell you one thing: your thinking is outdated. How can a woman love her husband if he is a good- for- nothing man? And how can love be unconditional? How can love cover deep deficiencies ?
Be reasonable uncle. You belong to two centuries behind in thinking and four centuries behind in your looks ‘

‘So, poor score for me?’

‘No, you are good for a chat till the cooker whistles thrice’

‘Your cooker has done its job?’

‘That is my husband’s look out . He does my entire kitchen work’

‘And you love him, sincerely?

‘I love him madly. The husband knowing cooking is free from any deficiencies ‘

‘That is the current century’s theory ?’

‘Of course. Bye. Gd dy oldie!’

 

Hyderabad winter has a warmth in its approach, unlike the Baltimore or New Jersey counter part. She slides her soft hand through my chin; doesn’t strangulate me. She whispers, doesn’t yell; She sings love songs, not beat war drums.

Madhavi’s parents had invited for Rudrabhishekam in their house. I forgot the engagement. It was 9,30 am when I got up this morning. I did get up twice before but thought why get up so early. In the morning hours, it is a pleasure in remaining on the bed, pushing head into the gap of two or three pillows soft, silky. I was like that during my early days. History repeats, not sure in other cases, but sure in late getting up in the morning hours.

Mohana’s reminder on landline . ‘Called you several time, your mobile is not working?’ Hurried to pick it up. Oh, no. No charge in the mobile. Had kept for charging last night, but the charger failed me. No problem. Haven’t I all these years lived without a mobile? Where is my electric shaver ? Oh, no charge in it too. No problem. Looked for the razor. No trace. No problem . No harm if participated in the Japam with hairs on the face. Rushed to bathroom, poured a dozen mugs of water over head, no soap , no cheekai powder. Have been using those daily. No damage, if skipped a day. The lessons on Crisis Management learned long ago, came to mind and I applied the theories fast. But was a total failure with Vicha. No problem. He will improve in due course. There is plenty of time. He is only 78.

Kept some rice and vegetables for Vicha in a hurry on the stove and wanted to ask him to switch off the cooker after three whistles. But where is he?

Vicha had sneaked into the ‘restroom’. While in India, for me, it is a bath cum toilet, for him it is a real ‘restroom’! The moment he enters in, switches on the heater as he needs hot water for washing too, even for a small, localized wash. Then he sits on the pot and starts singing Pattanathar or Masthan Sahib. In his peak days, he used to sing Kathakali songs too but not now. While singing K.songs, one has to move his head and limbs which is against my brother’s habits nowadays.

I knocked the door. No response. Again and again I knocked. Later he told me that he mistook my knocks for the batting sound from the front where kids were playing cricket on the street. I could hear his clapping, presumably to encourage a boy who knocked a sixer.

Rudrabhishekam would have commenced.

‘Viswanatha!’
I called. God is great. ‘Deivam manushyaroopena’, they say. Hyderabad Viswanathan opened the door and enquired, ‘you called me Anna?’

‘No, why?’

He said something but I could not hear. My hearing aid battery was dead.. No problem. I have a box full packed by Megh. But, where is my goggle ? How to search for the batteries? I lifted my right hand to my eyes and found the area blank. No problem. I can follow the lip movement of vadhyar and follow him. But, what happened to the pressure cooker? The three whistles would have come out during the past few seconds when I pulled down the door of my aid for recharge. I rushed to the kitchen. I had not lighted the stove! . No problem.

Phone rings. . Thought it was from my cousin Cartoonist Ramki with whom I was earlier discussing about a character’s sketch and replied hurriedly, ‘I like her back more than her front’

I kept down the phone.

The phone rang again.

Now, I could hear the voice from the other end as the battery, when reconnected worked. It will be active for a few more seconds.
The Call was from Mohana!

‘Anna, while I’m waiting for you here, you are telling me about your birthday wishes!
I will call every one in USA and inform about your preference!’

Now there is a problem, a real problem.