Parched earth

The evening sun slanted at the far west and smuggled its rays squirting into her room through the windows panes. Its dazzling golden flecks fanned and danced over the locks of sable black hair that it gleaned like an unflattering puce silk scarf.

Was it purple or muddy red?

Lena was overwhelmed with the crimson flakes that furtively gate crashed into her privacy. The horrid nightmare that devastated her, a couple of days back lay graphic before her eyes as a pictorial prose.  She dithered, gumming the cud as it unceremoniously frequented her mouth with its soar taste, ever since she was back from the hospital cot. The sight of smokes, antibiotics and the stethoscopes, the aseptic smiles of the white-capped angels, the long white coats of the medics with their latex-gloves and hairnets and the sickening smell of iodoform and carbolic acid made her flesh crawl.

Lena gazed off in to space through the slid frame of the sash window. A batch of unruly and restless little tykes pranced and gamboled in the play park that lay sprawled behind the newly opened mall towering on the west of the motorway. Some flew dotted and bespeckled kites that soared and kept airborne for hours together over the town. She could only see the kites, not the fingers that slackened the strings. The mongrel dogs sniffled the air, whined and trembled like an incontinent patient. They gazed and bayed at the far-flying kites without any specific reason or plan or rhyme.

The ancestral pond that abuts the eastern hedge of the sprawling homestead has lost much of its historic grandeur and grace with the man-hewed laterite stones misaligned that looked like lichened boulders, ancient- like the feckless and dissolute gravestones in a time-aged cemetery. The pond once stood as a status symbol for the clan, now lay wasted and abandoned, full of mud and green slime. Children learned swimming, frolicked, rollicked splashed water on each other in its salad days. Now It is only a nebulous relic of the nostalgic past.

“In our idyllic childhood, we have seen our elders somersaulting and diving into the pristine clear water in the pond, swimming combats, holding breath longer in water- a real test for the lounge power. The bully’s kept the weak, their head pushed down in water for fun, akin to water boarding.”

Lena remembered her mother telling the aunt reminiscing her childhood days.

The pond wore a dissolute gloom with its banks dense with spiny hawthorns, shrubs, coppice, creepers and such other thorny plants and weeds. Now nobody came, young or old to the pond to swim, cavort or splash. No poolside frolics. Cattle rearing are no more a means to live. No cows come to drink water. Now all houses have posh toilets and bathrooms. White-breasted water- hens, plovers and cranes waddled freely in the pond to plough out the trout’s in the trance buried itself in the mud.

When the road was thin and the traffic less, women joined up at the turn of desk to wash and bathe in the pond. The shrubs and the bramble bushes that grew thick on the west end provided the wall that saved their modesty. The occasional workers retreating to their house after day long labor, the belly full of toddy they consumed nerved them to have the audaciousness to cast side-glances on the half naked caste women.

“Why would papa and mom behave like mongoose and snake?” They are the unlike polls, still they repel against the natural law that unlike polls attract. ‘You have lightened up my life’  has given way to ‘You have snuffed up my life’, though they have lived up their lives on their own volition.

Both of them were lured in taking credit for everything that turned out good. But both glaringly disowned and shifted failures on the other. It was like the clichéd metaphor “. Success is a sense of achievement; it is not an illegitimate child.”

“Life is a comic opera.” Lena mused below her breath.

 

The windows and the doors ajar,  shut on the much sought after cool and enervating breeze in the scorching early-April-night. The gushy wind that followed slammed dunk and scored with ease on our windows. The summer rain may be on the pipeline to appease the plants and the animals.  Finally it rained slutty and dishonest, like a tart who feign shy to move in to the cart of the cat dog.

As usual the clouds make the hue and cry but does not come down heavily.

It was a hot, torrid summer Sunday. The sun was beating down. Lena woke up and  sauntered lonely in the compound for a while that restored her lost vigor. Wild plants and creepers flourished on the hedges even in the parching heat. Wild sprigs barbed with sharp thorns carried small flowers that added various hues to the natural garden. Rose trellises climbed the stones that are disorderly stacked up to work as walls to the garden. Clumps of bushes like blackthorn stood stern even in this summer, around the hedges. Thickets, bushy shrubs and spinney formed the hedgerows. The dry-stone compound walls and the shady copses and spinney’s punctuated the expanses of the plot.

Vishu is setting in. The spring is heralded by the full golden blossom of the Golden shower. In the local cant, this state flower is called “ Kanikkonna” which is also the national flower of Thailand.

Golden-Shower is a fast-growing tree which reaches 30 to 40 feet in height and 30 to 40 feet wide. The well-spaced branches are clothed with leaves. The leaflets grow up to eight inches long. These leaves wither fast and are quickly replaced by new leaves. In summer, Golden Shower is decorated with thick clusters of yellow blooms which cover the drooping branches. Dark brown, cylindrical seedpods hang on the tree throughout the winter before they fall on the ground. Its bark is used to make a concoction to reduce high blood pressure. The barks contain tannin and are used in leather industry. The pulp in the seed is an anti toxic against foot-worms. This year the flowers have withered by March-earlier than usual.

Keralites open their eyes to the Vishukkkani in the bell-metelled Uruli where the nature smiles, the Gods unite in the presence of lamps. Vishnu opens up a door to expectations of the New Year.

“Why do the golden shower bloom so early by Mai? By the time Vishu comes to the door, the whole leaves are withered.”  Lena quizzed her auntie whom she called Mai.

“Global warming is the real villain. Scientists at the Jhon centre have discovered the reason why the first buds arrive earlier as the climate changes. Plants have an ideal temperature called ‘sweet spot temperature’ for seed set and flower at a particular time of the year. When the climate warms up early to reach to this sweat spot temperature, the plants recognize this and adjust their flowering time accordingly as if spring sets in earlier in the year. “

The auntie had her graduation in Botany.

“Have you seen butterflies of vivid hues in the garden yet,” The auntie asked with her squint-eye, the deceiving cornea directed to the garden, but actually set on Lena’s countenance.

Lena did not see the butterflies in the plot. By this time the garden used to be a riot of colors though.

Mai had her eyes now set to the garden with her face in an obtuse slant. She wore all-white pumps even inside the house as she belabored a pathologic pain in her perceived torment of being of less height. She carried always a steamy ‘wet look’ image. Strappy high-heeled sandals and fabulous glitter-encrusted stilettos never looked gorgeous even to a connoisseur in this temple town.

“Therein lies the crux. Butterflies and their host plants have a symbiotic relationship. The host plant provides its butterfly with food, a place to lay its eggs. In turn the butterfly pollinates the host plant. If a flower blooms early at its sweet spot temperature, the specific butterfly can arrive late. When its butterfly finally arrives, the flower will be past its blooming period. In some scenario, butterflies come out of hibernation earlier than their host flower blooms. Both are the losers and the victims of climate warming.”

The auntie hurried back as her mother called from inside the kitchen. The auntie assured her, “We will have detailed discussion later”

“A quick spray on the withering plants will be in order” She thought.

“Ma; they need an insect spray as well. Look at the spray of Orchids!  Aren’t they fine Ma?  I had the crop sprayer with me.”  She turned to her mother wishful of an ardent admiration. The Ma smirked with a patronizing nod.

Lena returned back to her room.

Farther away from the road in the open area, the speckled cows grazed in the grassy grounds, often raising their heads staring at the pedestrians in a speculative trance. Children speared fishes lying swaddled in the mud of the drying ponds. The sky is overcast with grayish- dark clouds that drifted like wads of cotton wool.  In the outskirts of the town, a circus group is dismantling the tents and equipment to move out to the next destination. Corny old Hindi songs from yester years are blaring out from the mikes securely strapped high on the masts.

Lena was dank with sweat. The anguish and fever tested her agility. The tea that is left on the table is now as cold as the moss-grown brinks in the river bank. She loathed looking at it. To alleviate the tyranny of boredom having been laid back close to a week now, she stood up and sashayed inside her room.

A smudgy soft-focused photograph in monochrome, of her grant parents in their youth is hung high on the wall. Grand pa stood upright behind with a single-breasted sack jacket having narrow notch lapels and highly polished shoes, with his wife seated in front on a spindle-legged chair, his masculine arms resting heavily on her shoulders.  Lena felt that the Grandma had a little winkled-smile. Or it so appeared to her. She surmised, “It can be a swift thought that glided past her mind in a second, for an affected half-winked smile that got trapped at the exhortation in the click-moment when the photographer said, “say, and ‘cheese!’”

“The grandma with the classic polka dotted sari in the monochrome shade, fabulous with her heavy jewellery, looked glorious with cherubic cheeks-smart, confident, and independent individual contrary to what she was in real life.” Lena thought.

“Dress shabbily and they remember the dress; dress impeccably and they remember the woman.” She tried in vain to recollect whose quote that could be.

The Walnut finished Grandfather Clock that hung above the window on the head side of the bed struck half-past five. A clock symbolizes life and death. It also symbolizes endless love and jilted life. Miss Havisham in Great Expectations has all the clocks in her mansion frozen at precisely twenty minutes to nine – the time when she received the letter of rejection from her betrothed on her wedding day.

She touched her scalp where the nurses had wrapped the cloth.  It still burned.

The images of the nightmarish incident came rushing in to her mind.

Lena with her school mate Haritha was out on an evening stroll into the country lanes they frequented.

“It is fast emerging into a modern sprawling town, in its grotesque urban sprawl, even the goons likely to sprout up with spraying guns.” Said Lena, reminiscing the metaphor from a novel she has just finished.

The by-pass that stretched to the railway station on the far west of the town up to the turnpike that preceded the fly-over, newly refurbished with pale yellowish color,  slithered upwards from where it dissolved in to the main motorway that went to the Naval Academy,  round the Railway station. In the night, the summit in the junction blazed in the sodium haze. The town-link road leading to her village has many a sub-lanes and alleys where the shops are thick set. The lanes were cluttered with residential buildings. The link-road runs in front of her house. The Perumba River that circumvents the municipal area serves as it border. The Shornur-Mangalore rail line that took sharp left, passes just 1/2 km south to her house. The rear side of the cluster of houses of her clan lay vast swathes of paddy fields. Lena and her friend were on shoot breezing on the country ride.

“I remember when we settled here being relocated from Ramanthali on the advent of the military academy; there were several pathways around through the fields. Human and animals left their spoors here. The whiff of animals and men filled the lanes and walkways. ” Haritha was nostalgic.

“When did your family settle here”? Lena asked.

“Hardly a decade back, I had my LKG here. You came here last year vacation. No?” Haritha was joyous.

“Yah; before that, we were at Parappa, a nondescript hamlet in Kanhangad, the only bigger town in our vicinity. We relocated here as part of the ancestral property division in which my Mom got the homestead as her share after adequately addressing her brothers dues. My grandpa died a couple of years back and the grandma expired a year before him. My dad is a professor in Physics in the Govt College at Kasaragod.”Lena replied.

The crooked country roads and the narrow lanes are the sacrosanct spaces of solitude. These pathways, by all means, belong to villages. Pathways are the veins and nerves integral with the village that is bounded with the hillocks, streams, fields and bays. In the countryside, the Byzantine line-like walkways, the alleys, trails, causeways, pavements-all meet and lead to a unique but different tiny habitats carrying bizarre names known only to the dwellers there. They then accumulate, would flow to a common tiny town collecting the sediments like the rivers to the sea. These local lanes lay cool so much so, at times  untraceable and secluded. Pagoda flower creepers, Karaveerakam, hibiscus, paper-flower limber and the wreathed trellis with buds and bells make nice outer-hedges to these alleyways. Thickets, bushes, the wild vines, flower vines and trailing plants straddled them, lined on both sides. Flocks of tiny finches and barn-swallows zoomed and swooped to graze in the sallow fields.  In summer the plants brought coolness, in wintry months, they brought warmth- supplanting the seasonal opposites.

Lena thought of Parappa her last home village and said: ““The monsoons that gushed down the slippery slopes in obstreperous wildness are a horrid nostalgia. The roads turn murky with the water that pours on the hills, gashing down the slopes. The walks in the rain-drenched uniforms, splashing muddy water with the toes are distant dreams now.”

Lena looked at her friend. “I had a friend who was more an elder sister there.  Anjali sister had a faint likeness with you.  She went back to Calicut on transfer with her husband.”

“The village pathways are destined to give a perfect layout to the snakes for their war-fronts. The snakes fought ferociously, entwined lasciviously in their procreation urgency. They provided the congenial stage for the furtive rustic romances of the naive adolescents, of love and insanity, stupid delights and suicides.” Haritha chuckled.

“I don’t know about you, but snakes give me the willies. Lena laughed. “’How many smackaroos, how many kisses and how many scathing  drops of jilted love would have melted and parted like ice in these lanes- untold and unsung.”

She looked at the forlorn alleys as far her sight would fetch and sighed.

“The alleys and pathways near the town have metamorphosed into residential lanes. The solid runways lay sandwiched by concrete jungles on both sides. The urban sprawl into this countryside is alarming. Kerala seems to have no villages. ”

Abruptly  Haritha poised a Shakespearian question. “You are to me what Anna, Dido’s sister, was to the Queen of Carthage,” Didn’t you have an affair, Yet!”

Lena fell into a brooded silence. She felt a pang deep in the recess of her heart.

“We are too young for that kind of a thing. No?”She laughed.

Huge billows of thick black smokes from the smoky chimneys of the tile factory on the banks of the slim Olavara river rose high on  the western horizon drawing grotesque figurines on the sky. The Perumba river when it reaches  the west of the town takes the name Olavara River.

It was getting dark.

“The smallish road that runs to the town will soon be emptied. People of slender means hurried to reach their huts. We must fast pedal. “ Haritha announced in a hurry.

“A dusky sky is gloomy, grotesque and gothic as in vampire stories.  The Pine Trees soften the outlines of the houses.  The sunset is a stunning spectacle.  Mom will be up her steams if I be late.” Lena was trembling.

The sun had slipped behind the copse of trees just beyond the toll gate. The desk had fallen. The west wind spattered the whiff of the river to their nostrils. Children on the other bank reveled splashing the briny water on each, challenging themselves on how many minutes they can keep under water. They heard the mothers calling them by names and it is the first warning whistle for the urchins to return.

Lena said, “The wind shepherds the cloud from west to eastwards. When you see rain clouds in the east, it means the rain is at your steps.”

Haritha nodded affirmatively. “It wouldn’t wait. It would pour accompanying the winds. When the rain drops fall, it will be like silver plates lined up.”

The sallow street-lamps stood as cocky-eyed sentinels on the road with their heads slouched under the load of dark sky. Prostitutes solicited openly in the shady lanes in the streets. The packed shops are now getting emptied. The silhouette of the faceless high rise apartments near the ply factory in the emerging town rose above like towering ghosts. The kerb-crawlers drove slowly in the night looking for street tarts. The Thattukada, The grotty little eatery on the road side, the male dominated space that remain open from desk to morning would have begun to serve hot porotta, fish, chicken fry, omelets, thattu dosha, fried items, the  cheap and best food.

 Lena stayed sided for the funeral procession to pass.  It is already sun down and within seconds the darkness would climax in to pitch dark. A snake coiled up on the grass, slithered away into the bushes. Her skirt caught on the thorny bush. She was worried and was spooked by the strange noises. Somehow she reached to the pathway to her house. A sigh of relief escaped her throats.

Suddenly Lena felt a wreath-like presence before her.  A stout hirsute apparition skulked behind in the dark trellis. A heavy hulking figure towered high above her in the dim light.

“Who is out there?” Sensing harm, she tried to call out in full throat. The trees looked goofy in the half-light of dawn.

Her voice was muffled by fear. She was scarred and numbed.  Instantly the big palms of the beast caught up her mouth and dragged her slender body towards the spinney trees. Snuffles of her Laddy, her pet dog was audible in the bushes but it kept docile. She gritted her teeth against pain. Invoking divine intervention, she tried to scream but it came out like whimper, smothered halfway. She writhed in pain. Upon sensing his master in trouble, the dog barked loudly and repeatedly, but withdrew from wrestling with the beast.

Lights turned on. The predator slacked its palms in an involuntarily moment. As a reflex action, she caught the loosened hands and bit with full strength and fury. Her teeth gashed deep through the hirsute forearm of the beast and went through the procedure at least thrice. She made a loud cry and the hand was released. The beast’s guttural in pain was audible. With heavy hands it struck hard on her head. She went reeling and could hear fading but hurried food steps leaving away from her. She heard loud clumps and thudding  of feet running down the stairwell of the house and of many feet running towards her. The beast vaulted over the fence and was quick in its step towards the town. She keeled over and lay unconscious in the heap of fallen leaves amidst the thorny bushes and shrubs. Blood spurted from her nose.

She knew it was a man. Far away in the distance a bike hummed and rode away in haste. Was he making a pass at me?

Human being are like earth that is to be dug deep to unearth the intricacies of its heart. One cannot fathom the hidden wonders and tragedies looking from above.

It was late-May. The summer rains are far overdue and is most welcome. Happily a shower and the spattering of raindrops on the roof have begun. Lena was tired and out of sorts when she reached home, back from the hospital in the evening. She lay spread eagled on the sofa out of sentimental pain being stumbled and sprained an ankle in the tussle, with a bandage in place which gave her sporadic pain when strained. Down in the dumps, she sprawled in the armchair as she was spuriously tired. The TV in front blurt out the skewed Govt channels and the ads of the burgeoning corporate in its full flair.

Stephen reached home late, wringing wet. “The rain is earlier than its schedule. “ He murmured in monotone.

“You are soaked through, soaked to the skin. Come in and dry off. You are sure to sniff throughout the night and let nobody sleep. This is the first rain in the summer-Sure to get cold.” Lekha was anxious more of the havoc he would create  on the likely sniff and snores in her room.

“Give the clothes a good sock before you wash them “ Lekha reeled out at her in-law looking towards the kitchen.

Stephan was having the sniffles. Lekha was in full spate and snipped back.

Lena twirled in pain.

“Well, at least you weren’t hurt. The streets are abuzz with freaks and weardo’s at desk. Beware when you go out? I suppose we should be grateful for small mercies. Sob your heart out”.

The mother said with an insouciant shrug and strutted towards the kitchen.

“Was there a taunt or a squib at her father in that? “Lena asked herself and stared at the sodden grass in the dark garden through the window.

“There is no need to worry.” Stephan solaced his daughter, putting his specs in the spectacle case.

“You must try and keep your spirits.  Show a little fighting spirit.” said her father.

“Ok. I will try” She replied with a faraway look.

“That is the spirit” Her father patted her on the shoulder.

Lena felt totally spent, her appetite gone but slept soundly as a bell.

Stephan put on his usual grey shirt and the loose and broody cotton slacks. Lekha still in the kitchen wearing a shapeless cotton apron- smock tainted with smudges of kitchen dirt.

The kitchen hearth smoked badly.

Lekha was rough and sullen. She was Choleric, jumpy, frothing-at-the-mouth.

“The vampire slag; the slapper” Stephen spit out in his fury without assigning much a meaning to the spelt out words partly as a soliloquy and partly heard out, not in a critical way but in unison with the mood that commanded the moment. He wouldn’t slag his wife off that often.

In the swanky bed room he gently sloshed double amber rum on the rocks of ice toasted to the health of his wife, under the cloud of cigar-smoke. He swilled two drinks to slake his anguish. As someone said, anguish starts as a slow burn and accentuates rapidly in to a bonfire. Slowly but definitely it should swell into a conflagration. One has to slum it for the family.

Stephan has lost his spryness and has reduced mobility over a “fake accident” which he seldom feigned to be forgetful, created by his wife’s family early in their life. Ever since the accident, the whole brunt of the presence of foreign body implanted inside his right limb gave him a visible slant to the left and its nasty sporadic pains too. To make matters worse he had a bad disc prolapsed that greatly diminished his mobility added on by the   chronic gripe and insomnia. The year’s bygone has healed him almost completely, but the emotional gruffness stuck with him.  Scar tissues and the extra bone growth in his knee, which restricted his agility, had remained with him ever.

The auntie had an exceptional skill in steering a middle course between the two extremes. The couple felt it a consolation though privately. But the audacity to broker peace was vehemently fought in open. The auntie worried stiff, glanced at him and waived her head sideways that portended a caution to watch his steps. That was the body kinesics of a caring sister-as she knew that her sibling was fatally vulnerable to prolonged verbal duels with his wife.

“Not a dog’s chance for the horny and mawkishly self-righteous women to self-correct”. He pitied with his wife in derision and struck his flag. Stephan did not want to stick around and rolled up his sleeves, washed his hands and legs, flounced off in a huff and stomped up the stairs to his room. He felt a sharp pain in the small of his back, took a couple of painkillers hoping to sleep the pain off. He sank to his bed; reached for the ear-dogged novel and started from where he left off leaving Lekha to stew her own juice.

*****

Professor Panikker, the head of the department of English, knocking at fifty five was a man of distinct features with a hatchet face sporting a grizzled hair with penthouse eyebrow-jutting majestically. Stephan considered the senior as a stick to crutch on and a mentor.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t allow her to slap me around like the way she does to you.” Professor Devasya, from the Mathematics Department interjected, combing the last left out swatches of his long hair meant to mask the bald patches across the scalp which ones would have been a dense forest of hair.

Panikker cast a sharp look at Devassya in certitude of disfavor on the faux pose. Stephan’s eyes narrowed in the slits. His head slouched against the wall-slumped and exhausted.

“She is a froward and high-strung, pushy and domineering as any frustrated battle-axe would be.  Names like battle-axe, shrew is sexist though.” Panikker was prophetic.

“There is a proverb in the bible. Better to live on the corner of a roof
than to share a house with a nagging wife.” Professor Devasya who has no qualms to engage with the students insane frat parties, intervened.

Panikker added with his chronic smile, “No! If she seems fierce, it’s for a reason. Katherine the shrew! That’s the worst thing you can call a young woman.”

“Every eal think it is a whale.” Devassya shrugged and spat in disgust. His unprepossessing appearance with his short nasals and beady eyes went hot and red.

Stephan said; “She loves me madly. She dropped out in the final physics degree classes just to live her life with me. She didn’t even attempt later, not just because it was difficult to do practicals. She even didn’t apply for PSC exams to take care of the family. I had to struggle to convince her on the primacy of having a degree which she did after 2 years“

“Do you know, in the middle ages, the corporal punishment for the gossipers and shrews were harsh. They were fixed with the branks bridle also called scold bridle. This was an iron muzzle enclosed in an iron framework that surrounded the head of an accused woman, like a mask.  The bridle-bit was put in the women’s mouth and pressed upon the tongue. Often a bell is attached and the accused were driven through the cities.” Panikker held out his knowledge of history.”This unpleasant iron instrument, with its twisted animal horns, was used to hurt and humiliate ‘scolds’ who were thought of as too rude or unruly.”

“When would you say a woman is shrew?” Panikker, the intense intellectual continued. “A woman is a shrew when the venom she spews unsettles her man, or when her attitude and words cause him hard-pressed. Shrew-like disposition becomes a habit. Left alone, it can be a spoilsport in any relationship. Many a self-righteous women are unconcerned about the toxins that spewed from their lips”

Once upon a time Martians and Venusians met, fell in love, and had happy relationships together because they respected and accepted their differences. Then they came to Earth and amnesia set in: they forgot they were from different planets.

Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus is a practical guide for improving communication and getting what you want in your relation, written by John Gray.

When a woman loves a man she feels responsible to nurture him, assist him to improve the way he does things. He becomes her primary focus and her reason de etre. No matter how much he resists her help, she persists. The most frequently aired complaint, women have about men is that they don't listen. Either a man completely ignores her or when he actually does, he is quick to offer a solution donning the mantle of a Mr.Fix- it cap and begins sermonizing.  He is all in nerves when she doesn't appreciate this gesture of love. What men have about women is that they are always trying to control them. Men are more interested in "objects" and "things" rather than in people and feelings, while women fantasize about romance. Proving one's competence is not as important to the Venusians, offering help is not offensive, and asking for help is not a sign of weakness for them.

“Do you know how would others take it; when women happened to walk in front of her husband?” Panikker was pensive.  “We take it as a gross breach of etiquette. Interestingly fellow women are the main critics of their own species.”

It was time to disburse to their class rooms. Students were coming in. More teachers appeared in the teacher’s room of the English department. They retired with the word that they will meet in the afternoon interval.

In the afternoon they met again under the mango tree on the eastern end of the botanical garden. The green lawns, garden and other plants mainlined in the biodiversity park have enhanced the beauty of the campus. From there they could behold the majestic Bronze Lamp in the entrance shining in grace.

Mangoes are scarce in the season.3 sentences.

“We tend to stereotype women and regard them as showing lack of confidence. Psychologists say that the argument that men and women speak differently is based on the “androcentric” assumption that men’s speech is normal and desirable. By not fitting in men’s speech patterns, women become deficient.”

Professor Panikker started from where he stopped.

A woman who wanted her man to help with a household chore, because she was afraid of being a shrew, asks for it interestedly. The man now believes there is no urgency and think he will do it at some time later. The woman then gets burst out. Now she feels like she’s become that nagging wife and her behavior only reinforces the image. As a result, her self-image becomes tarnished and ends up doing the chore herself, feeling both resentful of him and disgusted with herself. If you assert yourself too directly, your requests will be ignored because you are perceived as bossy. However, if you let your voice go too low you run the risk of not being taken seriously.

“By using the derogatory term “nag,” a man trivializes the woman’s request.  By resisting her efforts to mold him to her will, the man can look as if he’s in control.”

It was muzzling steadily. They ran to the cover of deep eaves of the hipped and gabled roof of the canteen.

“Insubordinate and mercurial women are to be coaxed, cajoled and if not mend their ways, should be punished with severe bastinado even toe wedging, strappado or rack as being done in medieval inquisitions” Said Professor Devsya strutting his dad bod proudly.

Panikker was visibly vexed and annoyed. He asked the Mathes professor.

“Did you read Shakespeare’s “The taming of the shrew”

“ Yes, during my college years, in the 2^nd year of graduation, it was a play we were taught in the English classes. But I do not remember a thing or two of it except a vague idea of the plot.”

“I am sorry. The taming of the screw is not taught in our universities.” The Mathes professor was a bit narky, but did not make any objections. Prof: Panikker continued.

“Unfortunately, the stereotype of the nagging wife is not going to go away quickly, it is well-entrenched in the social-psyche, having been handed down after centuries of characterization in literature and myth.”  Professor Panikker looked at them.

“Petruchio, the husband transforms the feisty, froward and openianated  Katherine  the shrew who rebels against all stereotypes in to a quiet, benevolent and obedient role of the traditional wife. In the process, he subjects her to mental anguish, frustrations and even physical intimidation. On the wedding day, he humiliates her by appearing in shabby attire and then cause physical abuse by making her horse to dump her in to the mud. In the feminine space, he employs asceticism common to monasteries. Katherine is isolated from others, denied food and sleep to starve her in to submission. Throughout the play, Katherine is abused, insulted and denigrated  by various male character’s for her stubborn ways.”

“She ate no meat today, nor shall none eat//Last night she slept not, nor tonight she shall not” Professor Devasya expounded his erudition.” So shaming in public is the taming tool to civilize women.”

” Petruchio even declares publicly that “I am he am born to tame you, Kate,” Professor Panikker was sober and continued.”He employs the language of animal domestication by calling her a “wild Kate”—a pun on “wildcat”—that he will tame.”

“Petruchio orders her to say that the sun is really the moon.  Katherine  relents and declares that, Petruchio might as well define reality for her from this point forward.  TKatherine the shrew now declares the husbands as their lords, kings, and governors. She says that a woman’s husband protects her and supports her, living a life of danger and responsibility while the woman is “warm at home, secure and safe.” The husband seek only ‘kindness and obedience, which is only a small return for “so great a debt.” A wife is a subject for whom her husband is a prince. A woman proves a traitor if she behaves like a virago. Women should yield to her men. She should understand that  “our lances are but straws.” A woman should even kneel before her husband  and hold his foot. A U-turn from her initial forward, peevish and sour disposition.”

The professor grasped his breath. Looked at them reading their mind, he said;
“The play spills with misogyny, but it only unravel the fallacy of the oppressive male-dominance. The attitude is entrenched.”

Stephan is a highly courtly, home-loving and uxorious husband. He adores his wife. “I do not want her to revere me and treat me like the Christ in the house. I do not want my wife to be a servant”

“Emperors or commoners; men are henpecked. They are husbands tied to the apron strings of their wives. The wives dominance can be ascribed to the excessive devotion or the self-effacement on the part of the husband. He is held as captive and domesticated animal. Submissiveness, sweetness, serenity are the feminine traits while courage, decisiveness and competitiveness are attributes of men”.  Devassya flapped his wings like an ego-driven philosopher and a cold fish, his gravelling voice rose above the others.

Panikker was furious. He coughed up a mouthful of phlegm, rolled it in the mouth and spat violently towards the bush. “Mince your words. Yes, We all have loads of mumps mouse with us. It is highly impertinent and brutal to keep such opinion in this century. You are making a homegrown mossback on yourself. I took Shakespeare just to tell you that such is the misogynistic attitude of our men over the centuries.” He continued. “In the council of Macon, forty-three Catholic bishops and twenty men representing other bishops, held a most peculiar debate In the year 584 CE at Lyons in France. The debate was "Are Women Human?" After the marathon debate, a vote was taken. The results were alas: thirty-two, yes; thirty-one, no! Women were declared human by just one vote! “

Socrates is often credited with the quote:“By all means, marry. If you get a good wife, you will be happy. If you get a bad one, you will be a philosopher.” Said the Mathes professor.

Stephan knew that the snide and catty remarks from Devassya was aimed at him but he ignored them in disdain and kept silent.

Finally he said mournfully; “Her father tortured her for months together, locked her  inside a Yoga centre, mentally and physically harassed her, but she stuck to my wish. The staff at the centre subjected her to ruthless ‘counseling’ extending for weeks, asking her to have a break up or convince me to embrace Hinduism. A divorce was far from her mind.”

Panikker heard him attentively.

“We have no regrets.  We are tolerant of each other’s beliefs; we live together, practicing different religions. My daughter prays at the church. She visits the temple with her mother too. Above all my terrible shop worn jokes could still crease her up! “.

Beneath the veil of his gruff exterior he was weltering in pain and anguish. Panikker twitched a cigarette from the Wills packet and extended to other men and they smoked. They called themselves ‘smoke cohorts’.

“Tell me; had there been anything in your life that made her think that you had been cheating her?” can you imagine any such incident in your life that should ignite her wrath?” Panikker asked him softly, caressing his neatly trimmed goatee. His thick and overhanging penthouse brows shivered in the breeze.

Stephan breathed pensively for a while ransacking his inner mind.” I don’t remember exactly. Let me think.” He replied.

***

Stephen is now working at Maharaja’s college, Cochin, located at the heart of the  blooming cosmopolitan in Kerala. They stayed in a rented flat at Kakkanad, an upscale suburban neighborhood of Ernakulam, a city of large transient population. It was a poky apartment with very little storage space. The open-plan bed room space was small with a small bathroom en suite, a kitchen of equal size and a small prayer room and the store room half the size of the bed room was all the luxury. A wall bed pulled down from the wardrob in the store space acts as a space-saver and is used by the small girl. Her vast lego collection of mountain modes, skyscrapers are stuffed inside the drawer. A blinder parts the room to accommodate a strategically placed sofa and two chairs to mask the kitchen view from the visitors. Books are squeezed in the storage of the divan bed with neat bedspreads. The binder makes the room a spacious feel. They were happy that Instead of lots of different rooms it has one multifunctional space. The large window with the multiple silts opened to the traffic beneath. The common balcony went round the new gaff. It was quaint and unfashionable like old settlers cottages.

Lekha drudged in the household chores alone fighting every advance from Stephen to help her. She cleared the tables ,did the dishes alone.  Lekha, true to be the image of a vintage housewife of typical suburban middle class, got up at the first cockcrow, did the dishes after every meal, cleaned the countertops, appliances and vacuumed the high-foot-traffic areas in the house, did the laundry, replaced bed sheets, mopped the floor, scrubbed the bathroom, toilet seat and bowl. She rousted the lazy snoozers with steamy and piping hot cups of tea. She had a well prepared schedule, splitting down the chores in to daily, weekly and monthly tasks to leave the kitchen uncluttered.

She sent him to the college with a tiffin for the noon. However hard he dissuaded her not to struggle for the dinner preparation as the meals at the canteen are too cheap and affordable, she would not agree. The Tiffin was too clumsy to fill his hand bag to carry in the crowded busses. He often fell living game for others pulling pranks on him, making him ashamed. He knew she was too pertinacious out of her love for him.

“It is not just a cup of rice and a veg curry. It is the manifestation of my love and care”- and he always succumbed. There was no other way-out than to surrender.

"If you specify that rooms have got to be bigger, then you will drive the price up," The broker furrowed his brows when complained of the lack of space. Even the tiny flat cost dearly from the pay.

Happily living in a small home is first of all about psychology, says Hannah Booth, homes editor at Guardian Weekend. "You can live without much more than you think."

Stephan asked her whether she was displeased with the inconvenience of the place, she had no qualms.

“We don’t have that kind of cash to splash with. You know that a home is not a stage where you perform your life for the visitors. There are oodles of space in the kitchen. I am OK.” She reassured him.

“OK” He said extremely admiring his wives frugality. "We had always been frugal.  What if we were extremely frugal?'"

Stephan is already late now. He has an additional preoccupation as an NCC officer for the sake of a modest honorarium that fetched an add-on to his pay. Stephan kissed his beautiful wife and the kid as he regarded her shape and curves and her slowly protruding bellies.

“You are going to be a papa again.” Only a couple of weeks back Lekha has announced in his ear that she has a bun in the oven.

“Pregnancy has more thrills than spills. It is exalting and scary too – it’s a rollercoaster of emotions for the women as her body undergoes dramatic changes owing to a wild play of a cocktail of hormones. Every pregnancy is a new experience. “Her doctor told her with a side glance at Jacob.” She is in her 1^st semester.”

Stephan readied himself and within an hour, not waiting for the elevator ran clumsily past the downstairs. He called out his wife reminding her to take the child to the Kindergarten as he is busy. The Yezdi waited patiently in the garage. Without looking at it, he limped past the main gate and hurriedly squeezed through the ruck and dissolved in the crowd that seethed the park bus stand, a good km away from his apartment.

The leafy town lay before her like a frumpy women eagle spread with the long hairs in all directions-the town in perpetual turbulence. Lena looked down from the window-sill. A small traffic tie-up in the early morning caused by the early commuters to colleges, sales boys and the professionals- an assortment of men and women in various hues.

As a god fearing Hindu-Nair women, Lekha slept on his left, stirred early in the cold light of the day, before sun rise and as a reverential ritual touched his feet with both her hands while he is still in bed and daubed her eyes.

In Indian philosophy husband and wife are thought of as two wheels of same chariot of the universe. Followers of (Krishna Yajur Veda) the wife is expected to be on the left of the man on all formal occasions. During the household affairs and sex, the wife is seated left to the husband as she is Vamangi means left. As per tradition, a Brahmin wife stands on the right side. In Kshatriyas she stands on left side. In the pictures of Rama and Sita, Sita always holds left to him.

Lekha had a fetish for hygienic habits. She gave a pedicure to her feet every month. She cleaned her lady parts, avoiding douches and soap and kept dry using cotton panties. As usual she went to the kitchen after a thorough bath unfailingly in the morning with the obstinate cowlicks on the forehead. She kept the radio tuned to the Prayer songs from Akashvani, made strong wake-up coffee and called them to get out of bed. It was an arduous routine to run behind the lazy kid to make her brush and bathe.

“Lekha appeared in the staff room during the third hour. She was on her way back after dropping the preschooler off at the school gate and seeing the child amble to her class room. When she showed herself at teacher’s room, I was refurbishing the portions to be taught in the pre-degree classes. Maya, the other physics lecturer was also at her seat placed close to his desk. As the room was cramped, no distinct separation except for one to enter was left between the tables.” Stephan spoke slowly

They were the only lecturers left in the room.

Maya had her fan-shaped nails manicured with delicate pastel pink that glazed her nimble fingers. A dainty handkerchief lay smothered in her delicate palms. She laughed generously with her perfectly immaculate teeth.  A pea-sized but jagged mole rested as a black stud on her nose. With all the embellishments, she resembled the desolate driftwood that one’s danged in the fresh winds adoring the spiffy trunk of an oak. Maya has undergone the standard hysterectomy for removing the painful fibroids that chewed away all spices of her femininity. The gynecological surgery has removed her valuable objects both the uterus and the cervix and has pitched her to early menopause. Maya was also required to undergo the pelvic organ prolapsed surgery. She is slowly regaining the vitality from the psychiatric morbidity that clung with her for quite some time. The old briskness and elegance that charmed her colleagues has whittled away and she appeared as the ghost of her earlier self.

Panikker remarked with a philosophic touch. ”The menstrual cycle is the tears of bloodshed by the woman’s womb at the bereavement or loss felt at the ovum not being fertilized by the sperm to create an embryo. Creation of life, and its related sexuality are the domain of the woman. Hysterectomy is removal of the womb with all these related functions that it serves.”

Maya stood near him.  She leaned close to Stephan’s shoulders and was trying to help solve a knotty problem in Thermodynamics. The musky, tantalizing fragrance of Revlon Charlie Red emanated from her arm-pits embarrassed him. The bodacious scent was ravishing. Her voice was tender but seemingly flirtatious. Her faint and spasmodic breaths fell on his shoulders. She softly whispered, “You are really the Cupid. I really love you!”  The last part was a bit louder.

She was about to plant a kiss on his cheeks when Lekha made her appearance at the door. Lekha was stunned and visibly unhappy over the scene. The spectacle sent chills down her spines. She expressed her displeasure vociferously and stomped down the steps screaming muffled imprecations and stormed past with glowing eyes at him.

Both Maya and Stephan were in utter disarray and stood transfixed. Stephan felt ashamed.

They did not talk the rest of the day being blanketed in anger, fear, and rage and self-blame.

“Back home I was cautious to speak to her, tried everything to pacify her. But she behaved as though she is unbothered and withdrew into sullen silence. In the bed she laid passive before me as an outsider.” Panikker heard him sympathetically. Stephan sighed.

“ No I keep my conduct with my colleagues at professional level. Nothing has swayed me in my life. Nothing could make me infidel. That is for sure” Stephan told her.

“I can’t take all that you say without a pile of grains of salt. You old crappy liar!” She put both hands on her ears, her voice quavered with rage as if not bothered to hear any excuses.

“Be reasonable. It is a myth that all professional bonds are affairs just about sex. It’s also a myth that all affairs are just about unmet emotional urgencies.” He wanted to console her.

“You are too tired of this domestic life. I am too vanilla. You want to venture out. I know!” She told him in the bed.

“It is the way of all male flesh. Every men drop their drawers once away from home. If I wanted monogamy, I should better marry a swan. The infidelity is not necessarily in the sex, but in the dishonesty. It galls me! If that’s what you two enjoy, that’s perfectly fine!  You are free. But don’t lie for gods sake!“

“Imagine how free, relieved and happy you would be, if you could stay calm and poised in the midst of whatever is happening in your life. Think how much physical, emotional and mental energy you could spare, if you were able to avoid being upset, angry or moody.” Stephan sighed.

“ But, you were in with every bone in my body. Every beat of my heart was for you. It wasn't perfect, but I know for sure that I loved you in every inch of my soul, with everything I had; I loved in such a way that your happiness was always mine. And I'm thankful for that too.”

Life is like a journey in a crowded train, you meet at some station. The passenger board out at another station, the other continuing the journey as he has to.

She feigned indifference, more like Stepford wife, impassioned and immobilized robotic-docile, fawning and submissive.

Lekha rose at the wee hours as usual. After the morning toilette attended her morning orison in the prey room, visited the neighborhood temple collecting rose petals, jasmine, marigold, camphor and incense sticks in a copper bowl as if nothing untoward happened in her life.

“Ayurveda says that water in copper vessel balances all the three Doshas in the body, by positively charging the water. The thulasi water is a remedy for sore throats, Fever, Common Cold, Coughs, Respiratory Disorder, formation of Kidney Stone and the like. It is a heeler of mental strife also.” At once Panikker felt ashamed thinking that it has been a tactless utterance at the wrong time.

Lekha did the Pradakshana or perambulation around the sanctorum, the inner most chamber of temple where the deity resides, in clockwise direction for nine times. The idol inside the Garbhagriha(sanctum sanctorium) absorbs all the energy from the bell sound, camphor heat and vibrates the positive energy within the Garbhagriha. On the forehead, between the two eyebrows, is a spot that is considered as a major nerve point in human body since ancient times. The red ‘kumkum’ between the eyebrows retains-the energy in the human body and control the various levels of concentration. This also facilitates the blood supply to the face muscles. Coconut and Banana, the only fruits in this world considered to be “Sacred fruits” have an important place in all religious activities.

She felt a lot better – mentally, emotionally and physically. She began more and more religious. She bustled around the kitchen, hustled to make breakfast and relished the family as that rendered her the emotional tranquility.

“But an ocean seethed inwardly. The silent rage wrapped in the stoic resignation was frightening.” Stephan muttered in muted tone.

She patiently made the kids hair, braided low in to a pony tail in a school-ready style. Some days she adorned her hair in a lower bun with silver hoops and clips. Some other times Lekha threw her hair into a polished, but slightly messy topknot. The kid looked a little more sophisticated. Occasionally she took the pigtails to the exalted level with a super sleek pair like Brooklyn Prince. As an add-on she wrapped one tail around elastic. Gold hair elastics like Eris Baker doubled the charm. She created trendy tails with the kid’s hair-the adventures did leave the kid happy. The experiments on the kid gave her immense solace. She dropped Lena in the Kinder Garten. Lena’ teachers were happy to receive her at the gate.

She did all these in a vengeful catharsis of her fury. Stephan used to leave Lena in the play-school on his way to college except in those week days when he has the NCC session. Lekha took her back in the afternoon. Now Lekha insisted that she would help her on all days with a pretext that she is alone having nothing to do fruitful in the leisure times.

“Lena’s Mom looks gorgeous.” The doll-like Miss at the Kindergarten exclaimed. The girl had a voice that chimed like music in the summer breeze. Willowy and with reduced bust, she exuded an aura of charm and sprightliness. Ruddy tints on the cheeks jutted out loud in her whitish complexion. Dolly wore a full sleeved shalvar kameez, long up to her toe and fully covered from back neck line that at once suggested that she is a Kashmiri origin.

Lekha gave her a once over.  She could not direct her eyes away from the chiseled face and sculpted body of the girl, sylph-like in flesh-toned ballet shoes that made her legs look longer. Dolly wore a nude-colored tulle around her head. Dolly was done-up with her glossy and well-coiffed locks with dark mascara, eye shadow, eye-liner and blush. She adored a nude lip-gloss. Lekha guessed it was most watchable. Speaking to her seemed an edifying experience to Lekha.

Scientists say women check out other women's breasts as much as men do. The women are just as culpable for the "objectifying gaze" as their male peers. Larger breasts, narrower waists and bigger hips prompted the longest looks. Women, Psychologists say that women do it often for comparisons. Men do it because, based on evolution, they are more drawn to curves because curves imply better childbearing abilities! Tracy Vaillancourt found that women express indirect aggression toward other women, and that aggression is a combination of “self-promotion” making themselves look more attractive, and “derogation of rivals,”. One women will be more or less will be catty about other women.

She asked Dolly, “Kashmiri women look so much pretty and cool and with such moisterous skin. How could that be? “

“Kerala women are the beautiful people I have ever seen.” Dolly was up front at that.

“What kind of face packs and lotions you use to keep the spunky complexion?” Lekha asked.

“Do it in the natural way. Mix sandalwood powder with milk and saffron to create a thick paste. Apply on the face and rub in circular fashion. This simple and natural face pack helps in restoring moisture to the skin. You can try it at home. For the naturally moisturized skin, Just mix milk cream with a bowl of gram flour. Apply it over your skin and let it dry. Wash it off after 20 minutes, Repeat it weekly and say goodbye to dry skin problems. You can make incredible face scrubs with almonds. Just soak 8-9 almonds in water for a couple of hours. Drain the water and keep the almonds. Crush the almonds well and blend it with milk to create a thick paste. Wash your face with this natural scrub to remove dead cells on the skin and find your natural radiance again.  For hair, walnuts rich in potassium, omega-3, omega-6, and omega-9 fatty acids are proven to strengthen hair follicles. So walnut oil is heavily used for the scalp for glistening skin and long and strong hair” Dollie paused a while and giggled. “Lena’s Mom! But I do heavy make-ups, use cosmetic creams and lotions. I love all the modern beauty aids.”

Lekha wore a Kasavu saree with gold border, the pallu hung loosely and pinned on the left side of the shoulder. She wore a high necked sleeved maroon blouse that added more of a look of tradition with gold brocade. A string of jasmine loosely hung from her truss. Lena looked at her mother with gaped lip in appreciation. She exclaimed quiet innocently.

“My mom is the beautifullest mom in the world. You cannot judge her age by her skin”. That was something Lena heard in the TV ads. She was a bit embarrassed when everybody joined in her innocuous jest. Soon she was whisked away to her class by a baby sitter.

Stephan slid down into bitter tears of guilt and self-reproach. He felt desperate, criminally molested, drained and insecure.  He was hit over the head with a guilt trip. He kissed his beautiful wife and the kid without waking them up beset with regret and remorse.

“Lekha was a wounded tiger inside. She did not touch on the incident any more, but I could sense the tides of intense anguish and despair raging in her heart. Still waters run deep.” Stephen was quiet desolate.

Maya was equally stressed. She wondered what happened in that despised moment. “Can my husband brook such fierce perfidy, the breach of fidelity that cannot be compromised? Have I been cuckolding?” She felt guilty for the deviant infidelity on her loving partner.

Weeks passed. Nothing drastically changed outwardly. But the ice began to thaw, Lekha became less rebellious although she showed disquiet on his positive advances. Stephan persisted with his efforts to mollify her.

He wished;”Everything will be normal soon” although they were still aliens under the same roof”

While in bed, Stephan surveyed at the knocked-up wife. She is lying on her left side. A loose black opal necklace lazily decked her chest. The little miracle is growing inside the preggie. She has put on extra kilos in the front and the belly is growing more like a water melon. She has become less moody. Her abdominal muscles are quite toned and tight now and she had a bigger right breast. She adorned a growing thick, luxurious hair. She is in her 2^nd semester. Faint tan lines of linea nigra ran from her umbilicus to the ribcage and had a cluster of chin spots also. Last time it ended at the belly button. The areolas surrounding her nipples have turned darker. Her looks have gone for the better.

Stephan crooned in her ear.” Prepare to paint the nursery blue. This time it is the boy”

She let out a faint smile. “Oh! You are putting on your weight” feigning to be somber. She felt for her cold feet, her legs seemed hairsuit, her body dry.

“I will keep it steady throughout your pregnancy” He laughed pleased with her witty remark. Lekha nestled against her husband.

“Everything tally with the old-wives predictions. When our Miss Sunshine was in your womb, I remember you had acne all on your body. Now you have the perfect complexion which indicates a boy. Your belly carried Lena high. You were struggling from heart burns and high pregnancy nausea. The baby’s heart rate was high above 140.”

“These old wives tales do not hold truth. As always there is 50-50 chance for a boy or girl and is only a bit of fun.” She smiled back amused with his knowledge in the ancient wisdom.

“There is no harm in having a little fun. A boy or girl makes no difference in our life.”

“True; then we can also have the wee test and the ring test too.” She held her wedding ring tied to a piece of hair so that it dangled above her belly.

“Look how the ring move. You are right” The ring moved around a circle.

“These old-wives theories cannot out rightly be dismissed as jokes. There are some researches to support the theory that pregnant women who crave more food each day are more likely to be having a boy.” They laughed heartily.

Stephan was much relaxed as he had found his wife laughing with ease after the incident in the lecturer’s room.

Pregnancy is an event that involves numerous somatic and psychological changes. Months long stressor too that can trigger different perinatal complications like mood swings, pain and emotional upheavals that may affect the new-born. Stephan wanted to help her with emotional and psychological support. Marriage is a union of two souls in one body, a single avatar in two halves. In modern era we say better halves. It does not limit to a terminology, but is the matter of sharing of responsibility which justifies each other to be a better half.  The journey of pregnancy is the division of responsibilities to make it a unified and memorable one. The mother needs be safeguarded as she faces numerous primal changes both internal and external if the fetus needs to be well-nourished. The pregnancy is the period when men are to be more patient and listen to the wife as it is the absolute emotional journey for her.

Stephan  stayed with her side more frequently.  He assisted her in cooking so that she could take some much needed breaks. He discussed small things like baby’s name , health policy , some investment for future. Lekha is in the 3rd trimester which had been a huge discomfort for her. This has been most critical for them since the baby’s growth is rapid. The gynecologist apprised them that the baby grows up to 3 times its sizes during the 3rd trimester and should be provided with ample nutrition and care. They visited the doctor every second week with the little Lena clinging his hands. They kept track of the baby-weight as directed, took the iron, calcium and vitamin supplements on time. On Stephan’s persistence Lekha had to undergo regular yoga and breathing exercises. He kept away from all party-animal and friends buddy role.

He very often reminded her “Your unborn baby in your womb can see, hear and feel all that is going around it. You can even talk to your baby” He stroke her belly gently.

“How do the new mothers lactate automatically when they hear babies cry? Why does that even happen if the baby does not belong to them?” Stephan often wondered.

“Do you have the couvades syndrome?” She mocked him seeing his extra attentiveness to her. That is what they call the phantom pregnancy or sympathetic pregnancy.”They laughed sumptuously.

Stephan was overwhelmed on her recovery out of the self-inflicted and protracted ordeal. He was close to devastation and at his wits end. He felt rejuvenated as the situation has reached normalcy as if he has conquered the entire world.

As a new addition is to be brought in, they felt the need to shift to a more spacious environment.

The two storied abode is a spacious retreat, with verdant lawn and a magnificent landscaping around, located in a quiet, peaceful and area in a gated community. It is full of designer colored walls with stylish flooring, roll down blinds and vintage furniture with air conditioning in each floor. On entering the veranda on the ground floor, an arched passage leads into a spacious, stone carved living room, painted yellow. A large designer sofa added to the lively vibe. From the living room one enters the master bedroom and the kitchen. The large and chic master bed room has en-suite bathroom, four-poster bed with Hessian drapes and a large walk-in wardrobe. The bathroom has a two persons Jacuzzi with separate toilet area, luxurious jetted tub and shower. The living room opens to another bedroom that also has en-suite bathroom and a walk-in closet.  The open plan Kitchen is equipped with granite counters, cupboards, LG refrigerator and 6 burner gas stove, dishwasher, coffee maker machine, blender, stainless steel appliances and other culinary essentials. It has an open view to the rear garden through a large window. The dining area had exquisite round table with six oak chairs. The sculptural adobe staircase led to the 1st floor. There are two double bedrooms both having en-suite bathrooms and walk-in closets. Each bedroom offers is exquisite with vintage interior decorations and furniture. The windows opened to the astounding lake view of the most beautiful Vembanat Kayal. The open terrace was a added charm.

A huge photographic triptych of crucifixion stood high in the living room. It was an amazing fancy house.

When the broker took us to the house, she looked amazed, but soon was devastated. . Lekha felt it as heavily extravagant and was shattered when she looked at the monthly rental. They do not want such a spacious accommodation for three lives.

“Living from paycheck to paycheck is disastrous, and it sucks leaving one emotionally crushed. Financial wizards say that debt has a way of snowballing and your stress snowballs right along with it.” Lekha was obviously anxious.

“Economists say that spending 20% on rent, utilities and other maintenance is the new normal, nothing to worry about. I wont get cost burdened. It is affordable.” Stephan reassured her.“

“I am not cheapskate or stingy. Also I don’t believe starving is saving. We will have a new one to arrive now. We will have to save our resources to other bigger dreams. If my childhood taught me anything, it’s that you don’t really need to have a lot of money to have a good life.” She sighed wearily. “ All you really need is enough clothes to keep you warm, a roof over your head, food and water in your belly, something to engage your mind and body, and good people in your life for friendship and guidance. That’s all children really need. That’s all people really need. Everything else is just fluffs and extra embellishments. Do I really need a high end chef’s knife? Not really. I’m a decent home chef at best.”

” Cheapness uses price as a bottom line; frugality uses value as a bottom line. I can save a good amount in my travel costs. I have a careful judgement on every single dime I spend.” Stephen gave her a huge wink.

Lena was impressed. She thought of setting up an amazing terrace veggie garden on the 1^st floor to grow every day spices and herbs. She fixed the spots were sunshine is in abundance.

“ It is spacious out there! No? dad;Garlic, chillies, herbs, tomatoes, beans, cucumbers, kale, bitter gourds, Spaniards and other curry leaves can be easily grown.”

Stephan tried to cajole his wife. “Women who are thrifty with their money are considered sexy and intelligent, a new study has found.” Lekha laughed heartily.

“I am not buying a private island or chartering a jet to Atlanta to reserve a table for  the Baja Mexican sea-food or mesquite grilled meats, or taking you to Tipsoo lakes for capturing the stunning shots of Rainier reflected in the lake. I just want my loved ones a bit of relax and fun,” Stephan was final. “ Nor am I building the ridiculous Xanadu estate for myself and my family  to live on.”

“OK . As you like Sirs. “ Finally she had to succumb to the logic.

There is a fine line between cheap and frugal, and the side on which you fall can make all the difference. Trying to get best out of the expenses is frugality. Comfortable in their living space reduces stress and helps well-being. Home becomes an emotional refuge. Home means a secure, cheerful place where you are respected and loved. It cannot be an ugly shell. Our sense of the place we live is closely tied to our sense of who we are. There is no place like home.

Roy  T.Bennett says, “Attitude is a choice, happiness is a choice. Optimism is a choice. Kindness is a choice. Giving is a choice. Respect is a choice. Whatever you make, makes you. Choose wisely.”

Stephan got a new a land phone installed in the house. By 1998 he has purchased an Escotel wireless phone which was rare gadget in Kerala. Hardly 2 years since the  first for the state, renowned writer Thakazhi Sivasankara Pillai and then Vice Admiral A R Tandon of the southern Naval Command  had exchanged pleasantries to each other using hand held mobile phones in the presence of famed writer Kamala Das. It was a chick gadget with a small antenna. Stephan kept it as a precious possession although sparingly used.

Lekha was nearing the last period of the 3^rd semester. She had problems with preterm labor with persistent backache, regular contractions, and vaginal bleeding that necessitated frequent ultrasonic examinations and pre-eclampsia that involved elevated blood pressure. The auntie Mary arrived in the afternoon. Stephan was relieved as the auntie has ministered the post-natal care during the first delivery.

Lekha was very happy with her presence. Mary was with her in the entire ordeals when Stephan took his wife home after marriage. Those were the turbulent days, when the new couples worried whether Stephan’s family would accept her. Lekha regarded Mary closely.

Mary has grown and gained weight and appeared pudgy faced with flaccid butts and boobs. She has transformed a lot from an hour-glass body to a pear-shaped, in to a slow and grotesque gait. She wore a by-spectacled glass which further aggravated her squint eyes. The high-heeled sneakers refused to give her additional height. Mary looked a teeny midget in respect of hight, standing next to Stephan.

”When I met her at Stephans home after the marriage, She looked moderately fleshy and beautiful, a marvelous youngster ready at my heels to make me comfortable.” Lekha reminisced.

The auntie would shoot back when somebody looks at her amused with a bemused countenance.

She quips, “Studies launched in 1960 concluded that pear-shaped women  of bigger hips than waists, are less likely to suffer from heart disease and diabetes than are apple-shaped men”

Mary had been a wonderful post partum doula, a well-informed birth advocate and her skills were a handy tool in Lekha’s first pregnancy. Though not having a formal obstetric training, she gave guidance and support during labor and delivery when Lena was to announce her entry to the ring.

.Lena was the happiest as the arrival of Mai has been always a welcome fest. Mai would take her in the garden, read stories and speak about a lot of things which she did not understand well. She helped her in the arithmetic’s and English lessons too.

After a full-term pregnancy Lekha was due on Christmas eve. Mary on her routine examination of her sister found that the dilation has started 3 days back. Random and painless Braxton-Hicks contractions have set in. They took her to the hospital a day before she was due. Stephan and his daughter were confined to the waiting room, or "stork club".

Early next day, the regular contractions started. She was whisked to the triage room and a fetal monitor was hooked on to the belly to check the baby’s heart rate and measure the contractions. IV poles were fixed at the bedside and she got the IV on to her hands.

Later the auntie explained to my Dad that; “ Misoprostol and Pitocin doses have been served and she was fully dilated in 5 hours. There was a quick epidural. The nurses started the medications to induce labor. Aminoctamy was done for breaking water by the doctor and the baby was crowning.”

The contractions had now become more intense and she writhed in pain.

It was a normal veginal berth. A clean bundled baby was put in the hands of the father  in less than 5 hours. Stephan-junior had little wispy tuffs of hair all over his head.

He was wrapped in a blanket, weighed and  measured and given doses of vitamin K and had his first breast feeding within 30 minutes.

The Auntie said to the little girl wondering; “The clamp will remain in place for twenty-four to forty eight hours, or until the cord is dry and no longer bleeds. The stump that remains after the clamp is removed will fall off sometime between one and three weeks after birth.”  The whole drama made no sense to Lena.

Lekha looked at Stephan. Admiringly, his prediction has come true. She was discharged a couple of days after, the mother and babe were hale and hearty. Mary took charge of the whole family and domestic chores. She prepared food, tidied Lena , prepared her to school, slept with her in the bedroom at the ground floor.

The life was smooth and everybody’s eyes were glued on the boy. The new addition has become an addiction.

*****Maya fell into bipolar depression, become a paranoid and has always sulked in self-guilt and revulsion. When she became depressed, she felt sad, tearful, empty and hopeless. She lost interest in most activities. At times, in the mood shift, she felt euphoric, full of energy, at other times swayed to unusual irritability which affected sleep, energy judgment and relationship. She lost appetite and weight significantly. During such episodes of mood swings, she often thought of quitting her profession. She was full of self-loathing and hopelessness. Her self-esteem was on the ebb. The disorder required long-term treatment as it was a chronic, relapsing illness.

Maya’s husband Sreenivas, a senier bank manager in his early fiftees was Stephan’s best friend and well-wisher. They met ones in the week end at the pub. Sreenivas was back on the wagon after a long gap while Stephan remained a social drinker. They sat in a corner cube with pleasant chairs and table.  The high mast sodium street lamps from the busiest junction of the main metro, got struck on the glass panel and smashed in to smithereens inside the cube. They ordered for a beer each.

They didn’t breathe a word about what happened in the lectures room.

“Stephan, “We are moving. My wife can’t hold the depression any more. She has asked for a transfer to her home town in the capital.” Sreenivas spoke in a subdued and forlorn tone.

Stephan knew that there wear gossips doing the rounds. After the incidence he did not take initiatives to mingle with her freely. Stephan heard rumors on her deteriorating heath. Over the months, she has gone anemic. They hardly spoke to each other in the office as the sense of guilt was mounting on them.

Stephan said in a low, muffled tone. “Isn’t she on medication? Although one may tend to believe that medication is not necessary, perhaps it might help speedy recovery.

Bipolar disorder requires long-term treatment. It is a chronic, relapsing illness. it’s important to continue treatment even when one is feeling better. “

“Flowers shall bloom till the world lasts. But the flowers that withered in the autumn, they won’t blossom in the spring.” Said the nerve-wrecked Sreenivas.

Pangs of guilt spliced Stephan’s bones. He writhed in unfounded agony, and stood stoic in the others presence.

“What medical regimen is prescribed for her?” Stephan asked.

“bipolar disorder requires a combination of medication, psychotherapy, and psycho education. Sometimes hospitalization would become necessary as well.”Sreenivas paused for a while and continued.

“Mood Stabilizers like lithium valproic acid, lamotrigine are presently prescribed. It is told that it can take months to achieve the results.  Perhaps antipsychotic medications may have to be used in combination with mood stabilizers.”

Stephan sighed and kept silent waiting for Sreenivas to continue.

“I would also be on transfer. We must be aware of risks. Counseling or psychotherapy can help build up healthy habits and overcome potential barriers to good mental health.” Sreenivas fell deep in his thoughts.” Perhaps the transfer might be affected by the month end. Maya has suggested we would host a farewell to our close friends here. All of you from her department are welcome. You can consider this as an invitation.”

Stephan smiled and nodded. He was in a dizzy.

“There are 3000 plus direct words with a wide range of idioms and slangs  in English associated with liquor or booze, perhaps more words than those relating to sex or anger.” The  pot-valiant Professor from English department asserted.

“I bet it could run over a lakh, far in number than words that attribute to sex or anger.” Another young lecturer in English topped up his Professor.

If maid or widow you would win,

And wear your wished-for treasure,

You'll find it best to fill your skin

He turned to some humming; probably he couldn’t remember the whole lines. He soon amped up and continued the old English ditty, lost in haste.

While more might overshoot your aim;

So woo her-half-seas over

Rajesh was half-see over with just a noggin of rum. Sreenivas and his wife came over there and said, “Have enough O-be-joyful, brothers enjoy for her health.” They abruptly left the scene.

The liquor-starved-monks from the departments were hilariously drunk. The dead men-the empty beer bottles on the table lay agape. Stephan ate nothing while others topped up their bellies with plateful of Prawn, chicken, mutton Biriyani’s. They belched the air out to refill the space.

The whole gang drank for three hours and were loaded for bear. They were whisked  to their residences by the aides of the couple. Stephan was helped by Sreenivas him selves to the Waggoner and sped off to the villa. He assisted Stephan up to the veranda and stood there. Stephan managed to enter the living room and plunked on to the sofa.  Lekha came out from her room.

“ I am husband to Maya, the physics lecture at Stephan’s colleague. And she is transferred to Trivandrum. Thank you, Stephan to take part in our pleasure.” Sreenivas left abruptly.

Lekha stood stunned for a while. She had all her wits drained. Mary leaned his body against her own as a human crutch, rested his head on her shoulder and stroked his hair as his legs wobbled precariously. He held on like grim death, throwing his full weight on her. She painstakingly hobbled her selves to the adjacent bed room in the ground floor. Mary put him under the shower, poured cold water over his head plentifully and toweled off his body dry as he babbled. Mary made him to drink a lot of water and left him to sober. He slept like a rock. His dark curly hair has flopped down to his eyes and the eyes hard-closed.

“You addle-brained madcap!” Lekha ran around in the kitchen like a grumpy cat.

Auntie Mary was worried the way the situation began to spoil. “You've got to break this belief that your partner's supposed to make you happy. You probably have some fairytale-type expectations. You see, too many people live with hate in this world. Those same people live with anger and fear. This is often the way power-and-control struggles to play out in a relationship: trying to get dominance. If only you are happy within you, then only you can make others happy".

She spoke low inorder that Lekha is not hurt.

“God gave you this amazing opportunity to love. It brought you to so many beautiful places, taught you so much about life and gave you memories to be cherished forever. How can you ever be angry about that?

“I was insulted. Look how he asserted that he is the husband of Maya. It is a revenge.”

“Giving your partner the silent treatment, making passive-aggressive jabs, or keeping frustration pent up inside isn't going to fix whatever is bothering you.”

Emotional agitation, anger and hurt feelings bring a lot of distress and lead nowhere, except to more pain, suffering and broken relationships. They disturb your mind, disrupt your concentration, and prevent you from focusing on the matters at hand. If you wish to enjoy inner peace, it is imperative that you try to gain at least some degree of inner detachment.

“Who is the most miserable man in this world?” Aunty asked Lekha. “The death of the male or female first. Which would youappreciate more as the couples get old?

Lekha remained silent as if she did not hear her sister-in-law.

“I have met a lot of miserable elders in the old-age-care-homes. It is the widowman who suffer the most the old age. None in the world bear the throes of a man who lost his wife in the old age.”

The lady told a story.

“A noble man lived an aristocratic life who never entered the kitchen except for food. The wife kept everything ready at the dining table. All that he wanted to do was to wash the hands and sit at the dinner table. The wife read what he wanted from his face.

The husband had a habit of drinking a cup of water at the sack time and back after urination during sleep-interruption. The wife knew the habit well. She keeps a tumbler of water and a glass on the dining table. One day his wife has dead. It was the first time he was alone and cut-off. One night after a broken-sleep he went for the usual water. But the jar was not there.

The absence of the wife began to affect his life.

Diffident and bashful, he called out his daughter-in-law to fetch some water. She did and he slacked his thirst and slept. As usual after a brief sleep, he again woke up. After urination, he looked for water. But the jug was empty. With dry throat he knocked several times at the door of the room where his son and wife were sleeping.

He was taken aghast when his daughter-in-law opened the door. She simmered in displeasure having broken her sleep.” What?” She asked angrily.

“Nothing serious. It’s OK” He was shocked and unnerved for he had never encountered such an ghastly face. He just did not have the temerity to ask for the glass of water and returned back to sleep.

The next morning he was found dead in his bed.”

The aunty finished the story and said; “The parting of the wife is the most difficult thing a husband has to suffer in the marital life. Children or in-laws cannot supplant the wifedom.

All the aunties pleadings did not cut much ice with Lekha. Mary knew that Lekha was blowing hot and cold and is in a desperate need of rest. “Start to be realistic. Wake up and smell the coffee!”

Life became horrible again but Stephan kept always silent in the house as he did not want to have a shouting match to make his voice heard outside to stir the neighbors.

Men are the most helpless of all the creatures of God in front of his wife weeping and pleading for release. You can beat her, mishandle her, mangle her but you cannot miss her.

Can anybody forget the beautiful moments we created?

“ I have made every  initiative as a man. But she never succumbed. Even th0ugh the pressure was great between us as it should. I was ready to forsake anything. See how it has turned out.  But we loved each other. Neither was she-a perfect batter axe to turn.

No relations are perfect. We climbed all the way to the top together, perhaps only to slip and fall as soon as we got there. We couldn't undo what had been done, Men are the best dads, the selfless providers. We ran carefree in this theme park we call life. Holding each others' hands, we laughed, cried, loved, and we were in awe of everything we experienced. We were children with dreams, and together, we thought about the day when all of ours would come true-the roller coasters never to be stopped. The music will die down, the lights will be shut off, and our magical journey continues. But every time remind our self of the beginning of the relationship and all of the reasons why we fell in love with her.

Panikker felt sad with the way he had been suffering. To relieve the scene he said.

“ Do you know that Socrates  was often credited with the remark on his wife Xanthippe who once even poured the contents of a chamber port over his head?By all means, marry. If you get a good wife, you will be happy. If you get a bad one, you will be a philosopher.”

Socrates was once asked as to why he put up with his wife when she is an acclaimed virago. His answer was that he married her precisely for argumentative nature. His thinking was that if he could put up with her, manage her fiery temper, then he could easily converse with any other person in Athens.”

Stephan felt a little grotty. “I looked at her because I thought she were the most beautiful thing in the world. I didn't care what she were wearing – whether she had makeup on. I'd look at her and get lost in her laugh and smile. Whatever flaws she believed she had, I loved - how she'd look in the mirror and always suck in her stomach;  how she'd pace around on the phone when she were nervous. I noticed everything. But I loved it.”

Silence stood firm and turgid between them.

 “I am afraid, sometimes I feel I am losing my grip, feeling torn  and would make an argumentative Idiot.  At times I have got to keep my head down and play it as it comes.”

Stephan  stood clenching his hands on the lap.