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Satheesh Vellinezhi
| Photo Credit: Satheesh Vellinezhi
Folks, my marriage has come to a standstill. Now, bear in mind, a standstill is very different from a standoff. A standstill is when people don’t know what to do next. A standoff is a standstill, but you face the other way. I see you are asking lots of questions, I’ll take them one at a time — “Give an example of a standstill”? Good question.
Imagine you are getting some work done in your house and in the middle of the work your contractor asks for cash. Now ever since your mother stood in line to return the cash on November 9, 2016, you don’t have any left. But, the contractor doesn’t care about your mother. In fact, he insists, he’s never heard of your mother. Furthermore, he’s never heard of the word demonetisation. When you use the Hindi translation, vimudrikaran, he assumes you are abusing him, and then starts hitting you with a cement bag that he wants you to pay for, in cash.
Okay, I’ll take the second question, “Hey can you give me a shorter example, and be clear this time, please”. Fair enough. You know when you are walking down the street, and a dog makes his business on the public road, in public view? At this point, you have nothing to clean the business with. Worse still, its not even your dog. In fact, you’ve never seen that dog before. This is a solid, (excuse the pun), instance of a standstill. Neighbours stare at you. You stare at neighbours, dog stares at the business, and then all concerned expect you to clean up. A complete standstill.
Now follow the rules here, and listen carefully, if you turn around and look the other way, your standstill evolves into a standoff. Sorry, I’ll be taking no more questions. Now, let me get back to my marital situation. The wife says she can no longer accompany me in public. As in, she doesn’t want to be seen with me in public. I found this very surprising as our very first meeting was in public.
My mother’s contention was that it had to be my body odour. My daughter opined, it was her scant regard and respect for my monthly bath system. (People, Mumbai’s water capacity is under 20% as I write this, am I the only self-sacrificing Mumbaikar, who has abandoned bathing for the greater good?) To find out the truth behind this anti-social situation, I knew there was only one path to an honest answer. Only one way to get to the bottom of this. Only one way to unearth the naked, bare, absolute truth.
I turned to her Insta account. Sadly, all was revealed. First, there were 17 revealing pictures of me unveiled without my prior permission. For a 52-year-old male, mind you, revealing means top shots of your head. Let’s call it God’s eye view. However, that wasn’t the cause of the standstill. Apparently, she was miffed at the colour of my hair. Wait, let me quote from Encyclopedia Brittaninstaa. “Cyrus’s hair has been coloured unnaturally black. It’s the same colour as a pair of black formal shoes. It is so blatantly artificial that the staff can’t stop laughing. One of them laughed so much, that he called in sick, and he lives in the house itself! I can’t be seen in public with a man who has the body of a 60-year old, and a scalp which looks like a raven that’s fast asleep.”
So, here we are at a standstill. Guess, I have no choice, but to face the other way.
The writer has dedicated his life to communism. Though only on weekends.
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