Lapse Realised

  Vinay and Vanita would have been made an ideal couple if their married life had not been marred by typhoons in the tea cup. Vinay and Vanita were no doubt affectionate to each other, but the hitch came when Vanita always disapproved of the selection of sarees, jewels and commetics by Vinay.

  “Sorry dear,”Vanita would pout her lips in utter disapproval, “the saree you’ve selected for me doesn’t suit my complexion at all.”

  Vinay was stung to the quick at Vanita’s disapproval. “Sorry to have disappointed you, dear,”he would offer an explanation meekly. “You’re of golden brown complexion and I thought that this pale yellow colour saree would suit you excellently.”

  “You’re mistaken Vinay” Vanita would retort., “Only scarlet red saree would suit my complexion and slender figure as well.”

  As a natural consequence of Vanita’s disapproval, Vinay would return the saree to the cloth shop owner with a hurt sentiment. He could not help it.

  The same scene was enacted between them when Vinay bought her a gold necklace, studded with square stones. “Oh Vinay,” Vanita was angry with her husband again, “A necklace with round stones only would suit my conch shaped neck well. Don’t you know it?”

  Vinay was too loving a husband to burst out against his wife. “Sorry dear,” he said as if offering an explanation. “I do agree that I have a poor taste.”

  Vinay always received the same treatment even when he selected cosmetics for Vanita.

   If he selected a rose colour lip-stick for her, she would say that she preferred only red colour lipstick for her ruby coloured lips. The selection of face powder, snow and perfumed hair oil by  Vinay was time and again rejected by Vanita. So Vinay had given up the habit of buying things for her. Instead, he gave her money to do the shopping by herself.

  When Vinay’s friends made excellent selections for their wives or fiancees, his sentiment gnawed at his heart. But he got used to it. He told himself that he was not fortunate enough to select anything for his beloved.

  Though it was a bitter pill for him to swallow when Raghu or Ramesh met him at the canteen during lunch hour and told him that the saree he selected was greatly liked by his life.

  All this Vinay bore with great fortitude. He did not say an ill word to his friends about his wife.

  But Vanita was not at all aware of what was going on in Vinay’s mind. When Vinay put on a wry face during the ‘selection wars’ she simply thought that her husband lacked good taste. That was all.

  Of late Vinay was becoming very moody. When Vanita gave him a cup of coffee early in the morning, he would take it silently, drink it and put the empty cup down. Then he would bury his head in the newspaper. But in the happier days of their wedded life, Vinay imprinted a kiss on Vanita’s cheek when she had brought him his coffee. Also the ‘send off ceremony’ while going to office became casual. No more kissing and hugging while going to the office.

  Gradually Vanita also began to feel that there was something wrong with Vinay. But she was quite unconscious about the mental agony she was causing to Vinay. She reasoned to herself that career worries might have made him moody now-a-days.

  While days were rolling on heavily, one day Vanita complained to Vinay that she was suffering from splitting headaches and her sight was growing dim.

  When the general pain killers did not work, Vinay was alarmed. He took Vanita to an ophthalmologist. Vinay expressed his doubts and fears whether Vanita was suffering from Glaucoma, an irreversible optical disease in which eye sight is lost gradually.

  The eye specialist dispelled his fears and prescribed eye glasses and Vitamin-A tablets for Vanita.

  While going back home, Vanay was very tender to her and told her many pleasant things in the taxi.

  But it was a short-lived happiness. When it came to selecting the frame for the eyeglasses, Vanita became her old self again and stubbornly rejected the frame selected by Vinay. “Don’t you know Vinay? ''Vanita said petulantly, “this rimless gold frame doesn't suit my round face. Why don’t you exchange it for a black coloured one?”

  “Of course I do,”Vinay said wearily. “But let us go to the shop together.” 

At the optician’s shop, Vinay sat on the sofa with a resigned look over his face. By that time Vanita had already tried more than a dozen frames. She put on each and every frame and looked at herself in the mirror. She pouted her lips and said that this frame didn’t suit her well and that frame didn’t fit her eyes well. “Vinay,” she said, “let’s go to some other shop.”

  Vinay got up and followed her. He didn’t say anything. He was grim.

  When they were about to move out of the shop, another couple entered. The young man asked the shopkeeper to show the most beautiful frame. The shopkeeper showed one. The young man put it on his wife’s big, round eyes and exclaimed,”dear, you look gorgeous with this frame.” 

  “Then dear,”she replied,”let me have it.”

  “But madame,”the shopkeeper said out of professional courtesy.”You can try some other frames too.”

  “Yes dear,”the young man said,”you have a wide choice here.”

  “No dear” she replied, looking at him with half-closed eyes which spoke of many things,”I know how much you adore me. You know what frame suits me best. Your selection is my selection.”

  Vinay could no longer control his anger that was seething within him for many months now. “Vanita,”he said gritting his teeth,”that lady seems to love her husband. Isn’t it?

  Vanita could not grasp for a while what he was saying. When she realised it, she was stunned.
“Were her casual observations that Vinay had a poor taste was the root cause of his extreme sulkiness all these months? As she realised that it was she who caused her husband’s silent anger though unconsciously, her eyes were filled with tears. Now she recollected how cruelly she rejected the sparkling diamond ring he presented her with, on their nuptial night. Then she had not the least idea as to how heartless she was to have rejected the ring which he presented with a thousand dreams. She didn’t think that her heartless response would have devastated their married life. The thought that it was time now to make amends for her rudeness. She wanted to win back Vinay's love. She looked at him through tears and said,”Dear, your selection is my selection. Choose the best frame for my eyes.”

 Her Hubby’s Helmet

Anand always hated wearing a helmet. He would curse the law that made wearing helmets mandatory for two wheeler riders.

  “Dear,” his wife Malati pleaded with him on a busy morning when he was starting out for office.”won’t you wear the helmet for my sake?”

  “No dear,”Anand shook his head firmly,”don’t entertain any doubts about my driving skills. I am safe enough without a helmet on my head.”

  “But listen to me dear,” Malati argued with him, “you know the accident rate is going up in the city. Don’t you read in the newspapers that many two wheeler riders without helmets are getting killed in road accidents? The helmet is a safety measure. Isn’t it dear?”

  “Not at all,”Anand pooh poohed her advice,”a helmet cannot prevent death. That is evident from the statistics which say that the helmeted heads of the two wheelers riders also were crushed to pulp in road accidents. So give up the silly idea of making my head accident proof with a helmet.”

  That was Anand’s adamant attitude about the issue and Malati’s arguments about the safety of wearing a helmet fell on deaf ears.

  Why was Anand so averse to wearing a helmet? Did he believe in the baseless argument that wearing a helmet made one’s head bald or that long use of a helmet would compress the brain which may damage intellectual capabilities in the long run? 

  No, nothing of that kind.

  Anand was reluctant to put a helmet on his head when he rode on his motorbike just because that hideous thing - the helmet would spoil his lovely curling hair. At eight in the morning, he would sit before the dressing table and apply the costliest hair cream to his curly hair. Then he would comb it in a beautiful way. He would flaunt it before his wife, who would compliment him,”dear, now you look gorgeous.”         

  No doubt, Anand has due consideration for his wife’s feelings. But when it came to wearing a helmet, he found himself in a fix.

  As Malati entreated him earlier, for her sake he imagined himself with a helmet on his head. A helmeted Anand rode to his office but shuddered to see his hair awkwardly pressed to the scalp like a thickly laid tarmac road. He bent before the rear view mirror of his motorbike and combed for ten minute but his hair didn’t curl up again. Anand sincerely believed that his likening of his curly hair to that of a tarmac road would turn out to be real if he put on a helmet on his head.

  Malati realised that she could not make her husband wear the helmet through argument. So she wanted to appeal to his sentiment. “Dear” she broached the subject again, serving him hot steaming coffee as he returned from office, “would you love me sincerely?”

  “Malati!” Anand said, shocked.”What makes you doubt my love?”

  “Nothing dear” Malati said, calculating her words.”If you love me sincerely, can’t you wear the helmet for my sake? Wouldn't it be terrible for me to imagine a life without you in case something dreadful happens to you?”

  “Oh, Malati,” Anand put down the empty coffee cup on the table and stroked her hair affectionately. “As long as I am alert while driving, I am safe on the road. Don’t be worried about it anymore. I hope that this will be the last time you talked about road safety and helmets.”

  Malati did not miss the decisiveness in his voice. She could not do anything. She left the responsibility of saving her husband on the road to God. As she prayed to God, a bright idea occurred to her. She made a supplication to the Almighty to bring about a change in her husband’s attitude and make him wear a helmet. “God is there and He will do the needful” she thought and felt relieved.

  Anand, doing multiplications and subtractions on the calculator at his office, was sorry for having hurt his wife’s feelings the other day. But there was no other go, he reasoned to himself. He would do anything to please his wife except wearing a helmet on his head. He remembered having said once that he would fight even a ferocious lion to win Malati’s hand. Of course it was easier to bring down a lion than wearing  the bloody helmet on the head for Anand. Also to his disgust, the smooth surface of the helmet looked like the clean shaven head of a monk.

  He again remembered with a chuckle Malati’s obsession with helmets. Malati did not like the helmets with visors. She was afraid that the visor might come off and damage the eyes in case of an accident. Nor did she like the open helmets for they would smash the face of the motorbike rider in case of an accidental fall. So she bought for Anand a helmet with a metal face guard. But when the bright helmet appeared on the table in the drawing room on a fateful evening, it sparked off a bitter quarrel between the couple.

  When the small hand and the big hand of the wall clock reached five and six respectively, Anand put an end to his thoughts and got up. He left the office.

  Riding along the main road that was notorious for frequent traffic jams and fatal accidents, Anand was daydreaming that he and Malati were going to dine at a five star hotel and watch a late night movie.

  But his daydreams were rudely shaken by the traffic jam. As he watched a small crowd a few yards away, he made his way through the jammed vehicles of various descriptions. Now right before him was a lorry and in front of it lay a badly damaged scooter of his bosom friend Raghu. A good samaritan was helping Raghu to his feet.

  Anand stepped forward. Intense emotions seized him. He hugged Raghu and cried,”Thank God! Are you alright?”

  Gradually recovering from the shock of the accident, Raghu pointed at the cracked helmet on his head, “But for this helmet, my head would have been crushed like a potato. A cracked helmet is better than a cracked head. Isn’t it?” Raghu tried to be humorous. 

  Anand imagined himself in place of Raghu without a helmet. His mind pictured Malati in widow weeds for a full minute. “Oh my God! It shouldn’t happen like that.” he muttered.

  Walking back home after the late night movie, Anand put his arm round Malati’s slim shoulder and said,”Dust my helmet and keep it ready, dear, I am going to wear it from tomorrow.”

  It was a pleasant surprise for Malati.”There is God”she sighed. “He answered my prayer.”