From Butter Nan to Biscuits

By Mr. Sanjay Verma

Podcast by Mr. Sumangal Haldar

You can listen to the article here or read the transcript below…

Disclaimer: This write-up has nothing to do with health related tips. So please don’t stop exploring it; explore it, as it may help you in taking wiser decisions.

Few experiences in life are not just mere incidents, but have a lot to convey. As this one became a lesson for me, I decided to share it with you all. This life is full of ups and downs, lows and highs, and various paraphrases that could fit in the list. However, this experience revolves around my married life. Those married amongst the readers and listeners of this blog, would feel akin and nod their heads in conformation. While those yet to tread upon this pathway may take wisdom from the wise and experienced.

“And they lived happily ever after” … A quote that often accompanies after wedding scenes with the bride and groom walking hand in hand against the setting landscapes. But, a lot of effort goes in to make this happen, because we are no pre-programmed robots that will accurately adhere to a set of rule-book/manual. We are humans: no embodiment of all virtues. So, mistakes are bound to happen from either side and the relationship of husband and wife is one such narratives. There may lie so many anecdotal references like… With mistakes comes anger, with anger comes discontent, with discontent comes discord, with discord comes silence, and with silence comes evocation of love and that keeps things going. 

In one such transitional phase, there came a day when we were invited to one of our acquaintances’ wedding. Due to some earlier argument between us, both of us were inclined to teach each other a lesson. On the very day of the invitation, in a sombre tone I announced the wedding reminder in the morning itself; and also stated the time for our departure post our return from our respective workplaces. In the evening, I purposefully returned a bit late, but ahead of the scheduled time that I had stated in the morning. As expected, the lady was in no mood to accompany me to the wedding, and I had no intentions to pester her, still I did. The answer came in the form of a query pertaining to my return time from the wedding, so that doors can be opened and I may be allowed inside the home at night. I suggested a tentative return time and left. 

You do feel alone when you visit such gatherings without your other half; however, I was pushing my feelings to the back-end enabling my mind to feel that it was a nice decision. The grand Indian wedding was as grand as it could be: lawn full of multi cuisine delicacies, each row intricately laid. The decorations and garnishing were a compliment to the served cuisine. I did not lose a single chance to show my selfie instincts by immaculately capturing, not myself but the cuisine. The intentions were clear, I will send them to my wife, my time will be spent and she would feel bad about her decision of not accompanying me. And I did the same. I could see her opening all my posts as the double ticks turned blue. But there was no response. Post cuisine photo shoot I clicked many more from gate to the marriage hall, and to everything I could lay my eyes on, and kept on forwarding it to her and she kept on watching them.

As usual the groom’s arrival was delayed and hence the dinner time too. No body was willing to venture into the dining area before the arrival of the groom, so I had to follow the suit. The baraat was late, it was almost midnight; the hunger pangs were now taking a toll on me, but I had no option other than waiting. I knew had she been here she would have managed something, but without her I could not muster courage to do anything. Finally, the baraat arrived; it was a huge procession. I thought that now my chance to quench my hunger with sumptuous food would come. But as the diner availability was announced, all of a sudden there was a human commotion, I could not even pave my way towards the dining lawn gate. It was super crowded. Forget about choosing your best delicacies for your platter, obtaining anything worth filling your belly was a challenge there at that time.

I waited for the ordeal to end, but maybe there was some miscalculation in the part of arrangement. The food felt short. My hunger pangs, which by now had increased to the extent of being unbearable, indicated me to return home. It was already past midnight and a bad night for me. Now the impending plan was to sneak into the house and spend the night. As I reached out to my house door, my wife opened it without my pushing the calling bell. She was awake, watching television. Ushering me in she went to sleep, without saying a word. I thought now it would be easier to get something for my belly without being shamefully scorned for coming back home hungry and helpless. I was unaware of the whereabouts of the snacks. Still I happened to find some biscuits in a jar on the kitchen shelf, that helped me to satiate my hunger. While eating I wondered how could my wife all the time managed to bring out wonderful and tasty cookies, mixtures, and variety of snacks which I relished every time whenever starving with hunger. Finishing my biscuits which I devoured like a hungry hippo, I went back to sleep.

Next day in morning, she woke me up, asked me to quickly brush my teeth and come to the table for breakfast. Like an obedient boy, after committing a grave mistake, I followed her instructions. The gala breakfast was all laid on the table. I sat and before I could utter a word she said, ‘last night I heard you menacing with the containers in the kitchen. In the morning I found the biscuit container empty, so I thought I should prepare this and she smiled’.

I could not say anything further but just smile and enjoy the delicious breakfast.  

The author is Managing Director of Lovely Packers and Movers

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