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Thursday, May 14, 2009

You wouldn't know it from the (in)frequency of this blog, but I am rather jobless. My friends who juggle careers and homes and even babies often wonder what on earth I do with my time. And the answer is a lot - I do a lot of deep thinking - about the meaning of life, about the schedule of Fox Crime channel, about the the answer to the lyric-riddle of the Gin-Soaked boy, about why I married Vipul... Mostly about why I married Vipul.

And for good reason. After all, Vipul doesn't perform the three main functions a husband is supposed to perform:
1/ Kill cockroaches
2/ Manage the bank statements
3/ Tell me I am the light of his life

I know, I know. Most men falter at the third point and are useless at the second point. But point one? At least point one?

Last week, we were visited by a flying cockroach. Of course, I shrieked and performed some sort of a dance in the kitchen. Of course, loudly.

Hearing me, Vipul shouted out from our room, naturally concerned "Did I miss a sixer? did I?" He hurried down the corridor, saw that IPL was not on TV, got upset at uselessly running so far so fast, and then saw the insect, finally.

"Oh"

"Kill it, ow ow ow!" I opera-ed.

"hmmmm. hmmmmm. Did you try the insect spray? Baygon? Damn good."

Seriously, Baygon? If I had Baygon, implying I thought this building had cockroaches, we wouldn't be renting here in the first place.

"bhagwaan ne tunhein pair kyon diye hain? Why did God give you feet? Use them!"

"Stamp on it you mean? Are you sure you want me to stamp on it? You'll hate to clean up the gooey remains"

After steering through a conversation which meandered through humanitarian grounds for not killing cockroaches and how nice these green slippers are and really should not be spoiled, I figured: even after nearly ten years of knowing Vipul, there are still things I don't know. Such as, he doesn't touch a cockroach, dead or alive, with anything shorter than a bargepole.

[If only he'd show the same sense of judgment with respect to certain bollywood movies. Ab Tumhaare Hawaale Hai Watan Saathiyon? Who buys that DVD???]

Anyway, I don't know what happened finally, coz the cockroach flew again, leaving space for me to run out the door and retire in the farthest part of the apartment. But I'm told that it was stunned with a broom and thrown down the garbage chute.

Meanwhile, of course, I've bought the Baygon.

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

hahahah...i can so relate to that!!! mom used to walk in and kill the cockroach with a slipper or a broom or just pick it up with something...remember??

Anuja byotra said...

yah, I'll forever hold mom responsible for my phobia! If she hadn't exposed me to the sight of the cockroach's underbelly when she picked it up, I would have been much saner!

Anonymous said...

U should post more often if only to entertain us with your musings on married life! Hugs, Sameera

inklets said...

"At least point one?"

ROFL!! ;D

Gypsy Girl said...

Hey.. the hubby not too good at the first point either.. and coz he's jain he'll just point and say " Dekho Cockroachh" and give me the -i don't kill stuff... you do it! " look.