Subbu glanced at his watch. It was 9:45 p.m. Way past his dinnertime. He hated the very ticking of the expensive cuckoo clock he had bought recently out of pressure, not able to tolerate his wife pressing on him for it.
Tick. Tick. Tick
Subramaniyam, better known as Subbu, was a clerk hailing from Bandra. Last night after being hooked on a very interesting conversation on phone, his wife had been soaring in seventh heaven and was so excited that she didn't even notice or hear him narrating the story of his promotion that he got today.
Subbu was puzzled. "Why is she acting so weird?, I wonder why..." he thought to himself. He tossed and turned on the bed. After a long turmoil, his mind drifted off into an uneasy slumber.
However, the next morning she seemed to be really busy and preoccupied. Before he could blink, she tore through the house and dashed out.
Subbu had never seen his wife go in top lightning speed, especially when the job involved going to the market. Subbu was famished. He rummaged through the mess in the kitchen to find some breakfast. To his shock, there was none! All he found was a empty bowl with a few crumbs of food left among the heap of to-be-washed utensils. He grabbed a chakli and hurried to work.
Though there wasn't much distraction compared to the other days, he just couldn't concentrate that day. His mind went back to the odd behavior of his wife and how she left the kitchen in a mess. Yet, he went on clacking on his rusty typewriter.
It soon struck twelve noon. His tum-tum was already growling. Instinctively, he went to the canteen to check for the dabbawallah's crate. Even after several minutes of searching, he couldn't find it. He enquired the dabbawallah on his lunch and soon realized that his wife was not home yet!!
Subbu was tense. His wife hadn't reached home yet! Where was she? Oh Lord! He bolted out and did not bother to let his boss know. He dashed and tripped over the staircase, but he hardly cared. He brushed his knee and carried on. He sprinted and wriggled through the crazy Bombay roads, his heart thumping out loud. Even after searching at home, the mall, her friend Rekha's house, the Women's club of Bandra,etc. he couldn't not spot her.
He was helpless. He was literally drenched in sweat and was at his nerves. His fear knew no bounds. His hair looked like a bird's nest (rather even worse), his face was red and his clothes were coated with a wheatish thick layer of Bombay dust and smoke. After sprawling on the road, going about like a madman, saying, "I'm mad! I'm mad!". He went on asking people,"Do you know where my wife is?" and when people offered help, he often flung back, saying,"Don't you dare tell me!" People stared at him in disbelief.
He stopped at a chaat stall to catch his breath. He was starving. He stuffed four pani Puris and three gol gappas. The vendor, taking pity on him, offered free popcorn for the evergreen Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge at the legendary theatre Maratha Mandir which was just adjacent to the stall. Having lost all his hope on finding his wife, he wearily handed over the ticket to the person on the counter. Just then, he saw a familiar woman who was clad in a red benaras sari and adorned a string of fragrant rajinigandha on her jet-black hair oiled and plaited neatly, gleefully chatting with her fellow friends how Rajesh Khanna mesmerized everyone in Maqsad .
Subbu, not able to bring his eyes into focus, adjusted his cracked, dusty glasses. He wiped off the dust with haste, but his vision was still blurry. He brushed it aside and entered the cinema hall. To his surprise, the same young woman was sitting beside him. And yeah, he could recognize that voice..When he turned to see who that was, he got the shock of his life! It was his wife! His dear Aruna!
ARUNAAAAA!
The startled people stared at him in silence.
If you liked the short story, please share, comment and follow my blog!
Tick. Tick. Tick
Subramaniyam, better known as Subbu, was a clerk hailing from Bandra. Last night after being hooked on a very interesting conversation on phone, his wife had been soaring in seventh heaven and was so excited that she didn't even notice or hear him narrating the story of his promotion that he got today.
Subbu was puzzled. "Why is she acting so weird?, I wonder why..." he thought to himself. He tossed and turned on the bed. After a long turmoil, his mind drifted off into an uneasy slumber.
However, the next morning she seemed to be really busy and preoccupied. Before he could blink, she tore through the house and dashed out.
Subbu had never seen his wife go in top lightning speed, especially when the job involved going to the market. Subbu was famished. He rummaged through the mess in the kitchen to find some breakfast. To his shock, there was none! All he found was a empty bowl with a few crumbs of food left among the heap of to-be-washed utensils. He grabbed a chakli and hurried to work.
Though there wasn't much distraction compared to the other days, he just couldn't concentrate that day. His mind went back to the odd behavior of his wife and how she left the kitchen in a mess. Yet, he went on clacking on his rusty typewriter.
It soon struck twelve noon. His tum-tum was already growling. Instinctively, he went to the canteen to check for the dabbawallah's crate. Even after several minutes of searching, he couldn't find it. He enquired the dabbawallah on his lunch and soon realized that his wife was not home yet!!
Subbu was tense. His wife hadn't reached home yet! Where was she? Oh Lord! He bolted out and did not bother to let his boss know. He dashed and tripped over the staircase, but he hardly cared. He brushed his knee and carried on. He sprinted and wriggled through the crazy Bombay roads, his heart thumping out loud. Even after searching at home, the mall, her friend Rekha's house, the Women's club of Bandra,etc. he couldn't not spot her.
He was helpless. He was literally drenched in sweat and was at his nerves. His fear knew no bounds. His hair looked like a bird's nest (rather even worse), his face was red and his clothes were coated with a wheatish thick layer of Bombay dust and smoke. After sprawling on the road, going about like a madman, saying, "I'm mad! I'm mad!". He went on asking people,"Do you know where my wife is?" and when people offered help, he often flung back, saying,"Don't you dare tell me!" People stared at him in disbelief.
He stopped at a chaat stall to catch his breath. He was starving. He stuffed four pani Puris and three gol gappas. The vendor, taking pity on him, offered free popcorn for the evergreen Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge at the legendary theatre Maratha Mandir which was just adjacent to the stall. Having lost all his hope on finding his wife, he wearily handed over the ticket to the person on the counter. Just then, he saw a familiar woman who was clad in a red benaras sari and adorned a string of fragrant rajinigandha on her jet-black hair oiled and plaited neatly, gleefully chatting with her fellow friends how Rajesh Khanna mesmerized everyone in Maqsad .
Subbu, not able to bring his eyes into focus, adjusted his cracked, dusty glasses. He wiped off the dust with haste, but his vision was still blurry. He brushed it aside and entered the cinema hall. To his surprise, the same young woman was sitting beside him. And yeah, he could recognize that voice..When he turned to see who that was, he got the shock of his life! It was his wife! His dear Aruna!
ARUNAAAAA!
The startled people stared at him in silence.
If you liked the short story, please share, comment and follow my blog!
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