MARRIED “BACHELOR”
Unforgettable Story from My New Delhi Navy Days
A Fictional Spoof
By
VIKRAM KARVE
In Marathi – the word माहेर means mother’s place
One of the favourite dialogues of my “Better Half” (wife) is:
“I want to go my mother’s place (माहेरी)...”
And – whenever she says this – I let her go to her mother’s place (माहेरी) to enjoy माहेरवास
So – in our more than 36 years of married life – there have been many occasions when I am Married Yet “Single”...
Here is a story from the early days of our marriage – this story happened more than 36 years ago – in 1982 – when I enjoyed “Married Bachelor” Status for a few days – as my “Better Half” decided to go to her mother’s place (माहेरी)...
MARRIED YET “SINGLE”
In a love marriage – a wife misses her husband when he is away.
In an arranged marriage – a wife misses her parents (especially her mother).
Ours is an arranged marriage.
My wife would have preferred if her husband had lived in her parents’ home as a “Ghar Jamai” – this would have enabled my wife to forever be with her doting mother.
However – I happened to be in the Navy – and my wife had to come along with me to faraway places wherever I was posted.
Living with a “terrible” person like me – and that too – so far away from her doting mother – made my wife feel extremely “homesick” – especially in the early years of our marriage.
I once asked my wife:
“Tell me – in your opinion – do I have any good qualities...?”
My wife thought about it for a long time.
After thinking thoroughly – my wife said to me:
“You have the ability to live with yourself...”
“What do you exactly mean...?” I asked her.
“You can independently manage on your own – you are not dependent on me – in fact – you are quite happy living alone – I don’t have to worry about you when I leave you alone and go away – that’s what I meant when I said “you have the ability to live with yourself”…” my wife said to me.
During our “durable” marriage – which we are “enduring” for more than 36 years – my wife has made full use of this sterling quality of mine (my ability to live alone).
Since my wife had no qualms about leaving me all alone to fend for myself – from time to time – whenever she felt “homesick” – my wife would leave me all alone – and make frequent trips to her “mother’s place” (माहेरी).
Even as I write this – my wife has gone to her mother’s place for a few days – and I am “relishing” my glorious solitude as a “Married Bachelor”.
We got married more than 36 years ago – in May 1982 – and – as a newly married couple – we lived in Curzon Road Apartments in New Delhi – as I was posted in the “Northern Naval Command”.
Within a few weeks of our marriage – my wife suddenly felt “homesick” and she began pining for her mother.
So – I put her on the first available flight to Srinagar – where her “Fauji” father was then posted.
My wife felt “homesick” – so – I immediately sent her to her mother’s place (माहेरी) to enjoy माहेरवास
Of course – I purchased a one-way ticket – because I was not sure when my wife would like to come back to me – or whether she would come back at all.
To my surprise – she returned after a week.
Then – after a few months – she felt “homesick” again.
So – I booked her on the Rajdhani Express to Howrah – as her father had meanwhile got posted to Calcutta (now called Kolkata).
At 4 o’clock in the evening – I stood on the platform on New Delhi Railway Station – with “tears” in my eyes and a “lump” in my throat – saying “good bye” to my wife.
A Navy friend of mine – an ex-shipmate – was also standing with me – while I was “seeing off” my wife.
He had come to book a “military quota” seat at the Movement Control Office (MCO) – on the Frontier Mail to Bombay (now called Mumbai) – where he was going on Ty Duty – on some future date.
Having finished his work at the MCO – while walking back – he spotted me – so he came along to meet me.
Since my wife and I had come to the railway station by auto-rickshaw – my friend said that he would drop me back home on his motorcycle.
“Your husband is really feeling very sad that you are going away...” my Navy friend said to my wife.
My wife laughed and said to my friend:
“Sad…? The moment my train leaves – my husband will head to a foodie joint to get some “small eats” – and then – he will go home – he will open a bottle of Rum – and “top up” to the hilt…”
And that is exactly what happened.
After the Rajdhani Express departed – I told my friend to drive via Gole Market – where I picked up some “small eats” – Seekh Kababs, Boti Kababs, Fish Fry and Tandoori Chicken.
Seeing the huge amount of food I was buying – my friend said to me:
“You are buying Kababs, Chicken and Fish by the kilo – will you be able to eat all this…?”
“Firstly – I am feeling sad that my wife has gone away – and for me – good food with a hearty drink is the best cure for depression. And – secondly – you are going to give me company while I “wallow” in my misery…” I said to my friend.
Around 3 hours later – after polishing off a bottle of Rum – we were sitting in my flat in Curzon Road Apartments – feeling “nice” – having imbibed a substantial amount of our favourite “Hercules” XXX Rum – and having partaken of copious amounts of “small eats”.
Since I was officially supposed to be feeling “sad” – to add to the “gloomy” atmosphere – I had put on a cassette of some sad Mohd Rafi songs on my music system – and the ‘potent’ combination of Intoxicating Alcohol, Satiating Food and Soothing Music had put us in a blissfully melancholic mood.
Suddenly – my friend said to me:
“Hey – I have to go now – my wife will be waiting for me for dinner…”
“Dinner…? After eating all these ‘small eats’…” I said – pointing to remains of the Kababs, Fish and Chicken.
“No – I haven’t told my wife that I would be coming home late – so she may get worried…” he said.
At this stage – let me digress – and take you back 36 years in time – to 1982.
Those days – there were no mobile phones – and we did not have landline phones either – since – in the Navy – only senior officers were given landline phones at home.
Most Navy wives did not worry too much if their husbands were “delayed”.
On most evenings – after our jog on India Gate Lawns – we sometimes took a small “detour” to Kota House Officers Mess for a “replenishment halt”.
The “replenishment” session ended when the bar closed at 11 o’clock – and we would go home “swinging” happily at around 11:30 at night.
It was only if we did not turn up home by midnight – that our wives got worried – and neighbours were sent to search for us – in case we collapsed intoxicated – and were sprawled “inebriated” on the lawns of India Gate or on the footpath enroute from the Kota House Mess to Curzon Road Apartments – or in case we had passed out “dead drunk” in the Kota House Mess itself.
End of digression – let’s get back to our story now.
As I told you – my friend suddenly said that he wanted to go home because he hadn’t told his wife that he would be coming home late – and he thought that his wife may get worried.
I looked at the wall clock – it was only 8:30 PM.
I was quite surprised by my friend’s comment that his wife would get “worried”…
“It’s not even 9 o’clock...” I said, “your wife will start worrying if you don’t reach home by midnight – we still have 3 hours more…”
“No – No – I must go…” he insisted.
“Okay – okay – but at least have one more drink – “one for the road” – as they say…” I said.
Since we had already polished off one bottle of Rum – I opened a new bottle of Rum – and I poured him an extra-large peg of Rum – a true “Patiala Peg”.
Then – I said to my friend:
“Down the Hatch”.
That was my mistake.
My friend picked up the glass – he shouted: “down the hatch”
And then – with flourish – he gulped down the entire extra-large peg of Rum in one go.
That was his mistake.
Beads of sweat broke out on his forehead.
His eyes became defocused.
Then – he started swaying as he tried to get up.
I realized that he was drunk – totally intoxicated.
And – it had happened quite suddenly.
Or maybe – I had not realized it earlier – since I was in “high spirits” too.
But one thing was sure – his drinking capacity was much less than mine.
Had I known this fact – I would not have goaded him to drink so much Rum.
There was no way I was going to send him home in this “inebriated” condition.
So – I said to him:
“Why don’t you lie down for some time and take some rest…”
“Lie down…? Why…? No. No. I am going home…” he slurred loudly – and he picked up his helmet.
“Wait – I cannot allow you to ride your motorcycle in this condition…” I said.
“Why…?” he asked.
“I think you are quite drunk…” I said.
“I am not drunk…” he said.
“Okay – Okay – I will come with you…” I said.
My friend was so drunk – that he could not mount his motorcycle.
I tried to put him on the rear seat – so that I could drive him home – but the way his body was swaying wildly in his drunkenness – I was sure he would fall off the motorcycle and hurt himself.
So – I decided to walk him home.
He lived nearby – in “Sangli Mess” – which were dilapidated barracks converted into temporary accommodation.
I lifted his arm – and – I put his arm around my shoulders.
Then – I helped my drunken friend stagger along – as we slowly headed towards his house.
I knocked on the door.
My friend’s wife opened the door.
She was shocked to see her husband in this pitiable drunken state – totally inebriated with alcohol.
I deposited my friend on the sofa.
“What happened…? Why are you drunk…?” my friend’s wife angrily asked my friend (her husband).
My friend pointed towards me – and he said to his wife:
“His wife has gone away – so we were drowning our sorrows…”
My friend’s wife looked at her intoxicated husband curiously.
Then – she said to her husband:
“Your friend’s wife has gone away.
Your wife has not gone away.
His wife has gone away.
It is okay if he feels sad.
It is fine if he “drowns his sorrows”.
But – why are you feeling so sad because “his wife” has gone away...?
Tell me – why are you “drowning your sorrows” for “his wife”...?”
I doubt whether my friend heard his wife’s scolding – because he had passed out dead-drunk on the sofa.
Then – my friend’s wife looked at me – and – she gave me a lovely smile – an inviting smile.
VIKRAM KARVE
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Disclaimer:
1. This story is a fictional spoof, pure fiction, just for fun and humor, no offence is meant to anyone, so take it with a pinch of salt and have a laugh.
2. This story is a work of fiction. All stories in this blog are a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the stories 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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