my sweet smelling wife.

I really wanted to call this hub ‘my smelling wife’ but that would have been grammatically incorrect and Hub Pages would have rejected it as substandard just after reading the title! YET, despite the current name this hub is not about the sweetness of my wife - it is about my sweet wife and her uncanny ability to smell just about everything.

She can, for one, smell out non vegetarian food. She is a strict vegetarian and we hardly ever get any non vegetarian items home. However, the other day I fell sick and was advised to drink loads of chicken soup, and deciding to make it at home we asked the maid to get some pieces of chicken which she dutifully brought the next morning wrapped in a polythene bag.

Now imagine the scene next morning - there I was sitting at the dining table with the laptop, responding to messages on Facebook, the maid was in the kitchen making the morning tea and in walked the wife. Grabbing a cup of tea, she came and sat in front of me, doing her best to ignore the fact that I was on the net (which as all my regular readers know she thinks is a den of vice where I get my fill of ‘strange’ exotic women who for some strange and undoubtedly exotic reason want to flirt with me all the time). All of a sudden she jerked, flared her nostrils, sniffed a few times and asked the maid “Did you get IT?” At this, gesturing to the maid to be silent, I put a thousand flirtatious strange women on hold and looking into her eyes calmly said, “No honey, she forgot.” The nostrils came back to normal and she responded with a tame, “Must be the eggs she has cooked for you... it sure was a non-vegetarian kind of smell!” Whatever that means.

“But they are hard boiled eggs, darling,” I said. “No way they could smell.” At this she retired hurt and went back to the newspaper (or rather she retired and I knew I was going to be hurt before the day was out) and I smirked and went back to my thousand exotic women, which however was not the end of the story. Just five minutes later she jerked up again, walked into the kitchen, sniffed a few times and looked at the who pointed to the polythene bag and nodded. The bag was then dangled jubilantly in front of my eyes with the comment. ”I could smell it,” she said , as I crashed back to earth with my theory that her fantastic sense of smell was just a put on in tatters.

She can even smell the food I eat. This is fine if I am sitting across the table and eating with her as I do most days . This is however also applicable even when I am out and a double cheese pizza or a deep fried chicken has been placed in front of me. Always, without fail, at that exact moment before I trust the first morsel into my system she calls and asks, “Having lunch darling?” And then coos, ”Yes ,do go on, all those pizzas, burgers, fried chicken need customers too, right?” And all that I was about to enjoy turns to ash in my mouth. Mind you, she actually names the specific dish that is in front of me at that moment and she is always accurate! I mostly have one of my office staff travelling with me and once I even confiscated my colleague’s mobile phone before I ordered, trying to test whether it was he who was texting my wife on the sly.It did not work- she got the name right then too. From then I gave up, realising that she could even smell across mobile airwaves.

If it was just food one could probably live with it but she can also smell out women! I hardly have any female friends beyond the ones who are also her friends but every time I meet an old female friend (say once every five years) she can smell it. Again if she could sniff out the smell of the woman on me when I came home it would be understandable (what a marvellous fantasy – a woman meets me outside home and gets so close to me as to get her smell on me -mmmmmmmmmmmm) but she does not let things get so far ever. An example will explain this.

Once I got a call from my ‘between second and third semester of graduation’ girlfriend, who for a brief three weeks had been really, really – nah, let me not get carried away with that one since my daughters read this too. Suffice it to say that she called and wondered if we could catch up over dinner as she was in town for a day. Since I am not allowed out unescorted after 7 pm I naturally mumbled something unintelligible and we settled on a lunch date. I live in the eastern part of Delhi and so I asked her to travel to the western-most part where none of our relatives and friends live. Telling the wife I was going to be out for lunch, and suspending my best judgement, off I went to meet her. I walked up to her, found her looking the same as when I first fell for her, and looking deep into her eyes, shook hands . She responded by warmly placing her hand on mine...and just then the phone rang.

“Having lunch darling,” asked the wife, in that super soft voice she uses only when she intends to sock me with a sledge hammer later.

“Err, yes, yes, of course lunch,naturally,” I stammered back.

Her sense of smell at full blast, she came back with a super soft, “Who with?” My blood froze as I muttered, “A client”.

“Which client, ” she asked, making it clear she actually meant “witch client.”

I muttered a name as she said “Ahaaaa” as only wives can, and disconnected.

Needless to say there was no lunch date then, since the ex-girlfriend saw blood drain from my face as I mumbled the words, “Hospital...sorry...medical emergency...must go,”’ in some kind of order and rushed away, leaving her stranded.My first date with her in 35 years lasted exactly 35 seconds. I guess she being someone's wife too, smelt the truth too and hence never called back. As for what happened to me that evening, that is another story.

(to prevent anything untoward happening after this is published may i state that the episode with the girl friend is imaginary and bears no resemblance to anything that happened in real life ever)

i lost it again

The mobeeloupanishad , one of the greatpest commentaries on the electrigveda, one of our ancient religious texts is very clear on the issue of losing mobile phones.It states -

“one who has never lost a mobile phone is to envied for he has done the impossible,he who loses his first mobile phone loses nothing and must be consoled for who is it on earth that has not lost at least one mobile phone and one woman (unless you are a woman in which case substitute the word man for woman)the one who loses his second mobile phone deserves congratulations for having made an offering at the altar of the God of wealth, (for by buying a new phone he stimulates the market economy all over the world) but one who loses his third is a stupid b xxxxx and deserves to be kicked in his bxxxx  ”(Of course being a religious text it does not say b xxxxxx but merely refers to him as, the person born of unwed parents in a moment of illegitimate lust and refers to bxxxx as free hanging external appendages of the male lower body)

Needless to say this deep study of the scriptures was brought about by my sliding from category one where I had resolutely stayed for more than 18 years to category four all in the space of six months, surely some kind of record!!

I bought a mobile phone when they were still quite rare ( unlike today when beggars transfer their money from bank to bank via mobile banking ) and there was not much of a choice in the purchase of phones. You either brought one that was shaped like a brick or you brought another one shaped like another brick ,and you flaunted it!!!! You were of course careful not to talk into it because calls both incoming and outgoing cost a bomb and so the moment you got a call (unless it was a client or girl friend you were wanting to impress) you pushed the stop button and rushed to the nearest call booth to return the call. I of course being handicapped by being happily married( and hence bereft of girl friends) and having more creditors than clients never picked up mine .This habit survives to this day, claims my wife ,even though the circumstances vis a vis clients have changed.(though not the other status of course)

From those halcyon days till I turned 55, meaning over some 17 years- during which time my daughters got married, we went through three cars, bought twohouses and so on- I did not lose a single mobile phone. I was known for being a stingy guy who always bought cheap phones  and on seeing whom the guys that repair phones would start applying for car loans.

This lasted till last October when my birthday was approaching and my daughter felt that I deserved to carry a better phone in view of my altered financial circumstances ,age, hairline and paunch . She then bought me a phone that had a lot of features I could never know how to use but could talk about .It had internet, wifi, gps, a camera, a diary, mobile office and addresses of all the nice looking women in the neighborhood and many other such interesting but useless features. I of course, sticking to the antiquated notion of that a phone was invented by Uncle bell for talking to people continued to talk into it and send off the occasional message till just six days after the first was bought, I pushed the girl.

Before you think it is a sport to which I am addicted let me explain the circumstances. The Commonwealth games were on and in the heart of town a special exhibition had been set up that was well talked of and in a moment on unguarded romance I decided to take the wife out. (Many have since blamed this rash and disgraceful act of taking my own wife out on a date as being responsible for my loss but then what has been done cannot be undone) So there we were , two fifty plus people, happily married to each other for almost thirty years and very much in love,(cut the sniggers guys – saying this kind of thing is good form) looking at a piece of street sculpture whence we met the wife's brother and his wife and as we chatted on the street this girl came and stood right next to me. I cracked a particularly good joke and laughed aloud at it moving a bit backwards and ,I thought I had bumped into her and actually turned to apologise but found her hurrying away. The usual jokes about how I should now act my age and stop pushing young women were cracked (push women???? Who wants to push women? One would think at all ages one would want to pull them in)and we parted only to discover some ten minutes later that she had actually pushed me and dipped her hand inot my pocket and the first expensive mobile phone that was ever brought for me was gone.

It was crisis time then since  my daughter had bought this one  for my birthday which was only a day away and it wouldsurely  hurt her sentiment to see I had lost it.

A substitute was bought the very next day and before she came back from work I was holding my second expensive mobile phone, exactly like the first. I had depleted my bank account substantially , ensured that  Sam-sung his way to a higher growth rate and the young woman pmust have sold mine and donated the proceeds to the needy orphans for whose sake she probably undertook the dastardly task.

The Lords of wealth were pleased and I was back to my old ways and one more time decided to take the wife out (see- some never learn). Just as we were about to go , I took a call as i was rushing into the loo to wash my face , kept it on the wash basin ANDDDDD walked away for our date( two fifty plus people, happily married for almost thirty years  and very much in love etc etc ) and leaving  my mobile at the bottom of a bucket of water someone had conveniently placed next to the basin. It nicely stayed there till the two( very much in love etc etc) discovered an hour alter that they were  one phone short  and searching all over the house found it there.All the Nobel Laureates in the repair shop were unable to put it together where ended mobile phone two.

So I once again trudged to the service provider for a duplicate sim card and started using the card in my  ancient mobile that had been lying on my office table for all these months and thennnnnnn I decided once more to take my wife out. This time of course it was not quite as criminal an act as it seems at first instance because on this particular trip both my daughters and my son in law were also with us. We travelled in a cab and coming back late at night the driver of the cab made some remark which did not go down well with my family. Normally I am the type to ignore such stuff as not worthy of too much attention but this time I decided that if I did not reply I would be accused of being “as wishy washy as usual”. So, I shouted at him , made him apologize, tipped him for having let me be the macho man and swaggered out , promptly forgetting the mobile in his cab. Needless to say it was not found the next morning and I was left with one more mobile less and the cab driver was left with complete faith in that the Lord always punishes those that are rude to cab drivers for no reason except a desire to prove themselves not wishy washy.

So a fourth mobile has been bought and I am once again going round asking all those that would listen to please just once more send me their numbers lest I lose them from my life.If you think I should have your mobile numbers ,send them to me guys before I lose this one too.

the empty nest- a film by Berticcinno Feluciti

It was great news in the reality show business- the famed Berticcinno Feluciti has agreed to do a reality show for Indian television, to be released globally later. It was to be about a worldwide phenomenon which would strike a chord with people all because of its universality. It was a show about people working hard all their lives to set up a nest and the chicks growing wings and flying away leaving those that spent most of their productive years building it alone in an EMPTY NEST.

The great BF had chosen a typical Indian family as a case study. The man was a 56 year old middling level business man, the woman a 53 year old teacher. Married for 31 years their only claim to the starring roles was that they had just married off their younger daughter and were currently living in an EMPTY NEST. His secret cameras lined their whole house and (lets go into flashback mode now- a cinematic liberty I picked up from his conversations)

Camera one sees him looking at the typical suburban house in Delhi from outside. It is late evening and it zooms in on the house and the great BF sighs as he sees that of all the houses in the street THIS one, which just the other day was all lit up for the wedding of the family’s younger daughter, is still dark . The camera pans in at the trees the couple had planted when the kids were still at school and notes that the shadows of the trees cast by the street lights are causing strange patterns to appear on the now dark downcast walls.” A perfect setting to go with his theme” he thinks as he gets to the main door and-------FINDING IT LOCKED shouts, “CUT ,CUT ,CUT”

Camera two sees the couple sitting quietly in their den staring at the television screen with not a word spoken between them. The woman occasionally sheds a tear , the man puts an arm round her as violins play a long lost tune in the back ground and lights dim as the director moves in for the close up shot BUTobserving what they are watching he shouts” CUT CUT CUT.!!!!!!!!!”

Camera three delights the great BF! It shoots the couple at the dining table very obviously arguing. ”EEt ees the empty nest” he whispers to the assistant fawning over him . “now even the smallest of differences weel blow up into major arguments” he signals the cameraman to get closer to get the argument in the frame ,”my chance to capture life in the raw”, he thinks,” the tragedy of the nest gone empty” ,TILL he hears what the argument is about and shouts” CUT, CUT ,CUT!!!!!!!”

Camera four is set for the mandatory bedroom sequence- he sits by the bedroom monitor , observes the tossing and turning going on inside and knows he has finally found out what the truth is. ”They” , he tells the second spot boy “ cannot sleep – the layers fall off in the bedroom and here is their tragedy all exposed – their true selves - their true lonely selves are finally out for the world to see- and I ,Bertuccina felluciti will capture the moment,” he gloats . The spot boy peeps in again looks back at the boss and winks at him and says,” look carefully Boss, they are not sleeping all right- but I certainly don’t think what they are doing is called loneliness” He has a second look and is so stunned he even forgets to shout CUT,CUT,CUT.

The Great Berticcinno Feluciti has had it upto his gills and rings the door bell and shouts “YOUR NEST IS EMPTY YOU IDIOTS, DON’T YOU KNOW WHAT IS EXPECTED OF YOU?”

“OHHH we are not allowed to do this? “ I stutter.”Of all the nights you had to choose this one- and on camera too!! heaven knows what he will do with the filmed part”,hisses Sarita.

The great Berticcinno Feluciti first throws down his wig and then begins to pull the balance of his hair out. While he works at his favorite exercise, l turn to explain that it is US he is filming , me and my wife of 31 years, Sarita, recent empty nesters with both daughters now married and just the two of us at home. (we are back in current documentary mode now)

He told us recently that he wanted to shoot a documentary on the empty nest syndrome and thought we were perfect subjects. He told us he would shoot us unobtrusively and that we were to just be ourselves and we gladly permitted him thinking this would be a new adventure( of course we never expected him to enter the bedroom but when I noticed the cameras I thought he was doing it for oomph factor.) Except that now it seemed we been living life all wrong . (back to flashback mode- clever huh!!!)

“You are doing eet all wrong- YOU two are supposed to be miserable!!! and when I tried taking a shot of your dark house three nights in a rowI found it was dark only because it was locked as you had gone out every single night “ he yelled , “This is not done!! You are supposed to be home and mooning”.

“And when”, he raved on,” I found you sitting quietly in the den you should have been watching reruns of the wedding videos and getting teary eyed and you were actually munching at pizzas while watching the latest blockbusters!!”

“And when I finally found you arguing, would you ever have the sense to argue about each others quirks and foibles- there you were arguing about in what resort to spend the next extended weekend” he loudly ranted.

“You two are disgusting, a blot on empty nested parenthood, sceallatioslstampondas,spilencias” he shouted ( maybe these were Italian words cause we did not understand them)” and now” he continued,” just as I thought I was capturing your real loneliness,” he screamed.”you two get into bed and do this” ( as if his parents had been amoebae and did not do this when he was born)

I did want to tell him that kids going out was not the end of life but could actually be a new beginning. I did want to ask him as to why now that we had both time and money and no responsibilities toward either parents or kids, could we not lead a vibrant active full life. BUT it was too late, he had stormed off ,as had the second assistant director and four spot boys and all the sponsors leaving just the two of to sit and argue about whether to continue what we were doing or go out for dinner. Any guesses what we did?????