DON’T WORRY, BE HAPPY
(A Humorous Story)
By
VIKRAM KARVE
(A Humorous Story)
By
VIKRAM KARVE
From my Creative Writing Archives:
One of my humorous fiction stories – I wrote this story more than 4 years ago, in the year 2010
One of my humorous fiction stories – I wrote this story more than 4 years ago, in the year 2010
WORRY AMMA – a story by Vikram Karve
“I am worried,” she said.
“Worried…? About what…?” I asked.
“Marriage…”
“Marriage…? What marriage…? Whose marriage…?”
“My marriage, you stupid...” she admonished me.
“Your marriage…? But you are not getting married…!”
“That’s what I am worried about. Why am I not getting married? I am worried that I may never get married…”
“Of course you will get married…”
“Really…you think so…”
“Of course I think so…you are the most eligible girl…so beautiful…so talented…so educated…the best boys will queue up and ask for your hand in marriage…”
She did get married.
Yes, she got married at the right time and to the best boy.
But not before she subjected me to a few onslaughts of her terrible spells of worry.
But not before she subjected me to a few onslaughts of her terrible spells of worry.
For example, just before her engagement ceremony she took me aside and said, “I am worried…”
“Not now…!” I admonished.
“Don’t talk to me like that…you are the only one…”
“Okay, okay, tell me…”
“Do you really think we are compatible…?”
“Of course you are compatible…in fact you two are made for each other and your marriage will be a big success…” I assured her.
“Will he let me work after marriage…?”
“Of course, he will let you work…didn’t you both discuss it the other day…”
“Yes, but I am worried that in the heart of his heart he does not want me to work. ”
“I spoke to your fiancé. I asked him very clearly. He wants you to work and have a successful career…” I lied.
“Really…?”
“Yes...”
She had a flourishing marriage and a highly successful career but that did not stop her from bombarding me with her salvoes, fits and spells of worry whenever we met from time to time.
“I am worried. Will I have children?”
She had two – a boy and a girl.
“I am worried about my kids. What will they do in life? It is so difficult, there is so much competition.”
Both her children did very well.
Her son got into IIT, then into IIM, and got a very good job in an MNC.
Her daughter got into AIIMS, became a doctor, specialized in Gynaecology, and was working in a leading hospital.
But her blitzkrieg of worries continued unabated.
Her son got into IIT, then into IIM, and got a very good job in an MNC.
Her daughter got into AIIMS, became a doctor, specialized in Gynaecology, and was working in a leading hospital.
But her blitzkrieg of worries continued unabated.
“I am worried.”
“Now what?”
“My children’s marriage, you fool. Will my son get a good girl, will she get along with me? My daughter….?”
Both her son and daughter got the best of spouses who got along very well with their in-laws.
In fact, her daughter-in-law doted on her and they stayed together as a happy joint family.
And her daughter who had married a colleague doctor lived nearby and visited her almost every day.
Still she kept worrying.
In fact, her daughter-in-law doted on her and they stayed together as a happy joint family.
And her daughter who had married a colleague doctor lived nearby and visited her almost every day.
Still she kept worrying.
“I am worried.”
“Now what?”
“My daughter – her pregnancy – will her delivery be okay?”
“Come on, both she and her husband are the best gynaecologists in town. Surely there is no reason to worry.”
Her daughter had a very smooth pregnancy and delivered a bonny boy.
So did her daughter-in-law.
So did her daughter-in-law.
It seemed to be the end of her worries.
She and her husband were well off.
They had a beautiful house in the posh area of the Pune.
They enjoyed the best of health and they were looking forward to a satisfying retired life.
They were blessed with grandchildren and gave the impression of one happy family.
I envied her.
She had everything in the world.
She was really lucky.
At least now, there was absolutely no reason for her to worry.
She and her husband were well off.
They had a beautiful house in the posh area of the Pune.
They enjoyed the best of health and they were looking forward to a satisfying retired life.
They were blessed with grandchildren and gave the impression of one happy family.
I envied her.
She had everything in the world.
She was really lucky.
At least now, there was absolutely no reason for her to worry.
Worry Amma, as I called her, came into my life when I was a small boy studying in the third standard.
She was our newly arrived neighbour’s daughter, my new classmate, and I was supposed to “guide” her and “look after her” especially as we travelled to school and back in the public bus (there were no school buses those days).
But most of the time it was she who was looking after me and making my life miserable with her constant worrying.
She was our newly arrived neighbour’s daughter, my new classmate, and I was supposed to “guide” her and “look after her” especially as we travelled to school and back in the public bus (there were no school buses those days).
But most of the time it was she who was looking after me and making my life miserable with her constant worrying.
She was always worried:
Will the bus come on time?
Will she be late for assembly?
Will she do well in her exams?
She worries about her homework, and later, about how she looked, about her her crushes, everything - she worried about everything you can imagine.
I was her sounding board who she bombarded with her worries.
That’s why I secretly called her “Worry Amma.”
Will the bus come on time?
Will she be late for assembly?
Will she do well in her exams?
She worries about her homework, and later, about how she looked, about her her crushes, everything - she worried about everything you can imagine.
I was her sounding board who she bombarded with her worries.
That’s why I secretly called her “Worry Amma.”
She did very well at studies.
So did I.
I thought she, like other girls would study arts, but to my horror she too joined the same IIT as I did and made my life miserable with her worries for the next five years.
And then, try as I did, I could not escape her salvoes of worry whenever we met.
In fact I seemed to have got so used to her that I missed her whenever we did not meet for some time.
Just like I was missing her now.
I had not met Worry Amma for over a month as she had gone on a holiday abroad with her husband and entire family.
So did I.
I thought she, like other girls would study arts, but to my horror she too joined the same IIT as I did and made my life miserable with her worries for the next five years.
And then, try as I did, I could not escape her salvoes of worry whenever we met.
In fact I seemed to have got so used to her that I missed her whenever we did not meet for some time.
Just like I was missing her now.
I had not met Worry Amma for over a month as she had gone on a holiday abroad with her husband and entire family.
“Hi, all alone?” Worry Amma accosted me as I was enjoying my SPDP at Vaishali.
She did not ask if she could join me – she just pulled a chair and sat opposite me.
“I am worried,” she said.
“Now what? Are you worried that you have nothing to be worried about?” I joked.
“I am worried about you.”
“Me? You are worried about me?” I gasped, choking on the food in my mouth.
Worry Amma looked at me with firm determination and said to me:
“Yes. You. I am really worried about you. Look at you. Living all alone. Eating all this junk food. Nobody to look after you. I am really worried about you. But don’t you worry – I will find you a nice wife.”
Now, I am worried.
VIKRAM KARVE
Copyright © Vikram Karve
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© vikram karve., all rights reserved.
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.
Disclaimer:
This story is a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the story are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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Copyright © Vikram Karve (All Rights Reserved)
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.
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