HOW TO WORRY
A Story
By
VIKRAM KARVE
But not before she subjected me to a few onslaughts of her terrible spells of worry.
Her son got into IIT – then into IIM – and he 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.
And – her daughter – who had married her doctor colleague – she lived nearby – and she visited her almost every day.
Still she kept worrying.
Soon – her daughter-in-law had a baby girl.
They were blessed with grandchildren – and all of them together 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 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 – instead of me looking after her – most of the time – it was she who was looking after me – and making my life miserable by her constant worrying.
I was her sounding board – and she kept bombarding with her worries.
That’s why I secretly called her “Worry Amma”
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 torrent of worries – 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 – since she had gone on a holiday abroad with her husband and entire family.
A Story
By
VIKRAM KARVE
Dear Reader – here is one of my humorous stories – I wrote this story 7 years ago – in the year 2010
WORRY AMMA – a story by Vikram Karve
“I am worried...” she said.
“Worried…? About what…?” I asked.
“Marriage…” she said.
“Marriage…? What marriage…? Whose marriage…?” I asked.
“My marriage – you stupid fool...” she admonished me.
“Your marriage…? But you are not getting married…” I said.
“That is what I am worried about. Why am I not getting married...? I am worried that I may never get married…” she said.
“Of course you will get married…” I said.
“Really – you think so…?” she asked.
“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…” I boosted her spirits.
She did get married.
Yes – she got married at the right time.
In fact – she got married to the best boy.
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 she said to me: “I am worried…”
“Not now…!” I admonished.
“Don’t talk to me like that – You are the only one…” she pleaded.
“Okay, okay, tell me…” I said.
“Do you really think we are compatible…?” she asked, with a look of doubt on her face.
“Of course you are compatible – in fact – you two are “made-for-each-other” – a perfect match – and your marriage will be a big success…” I assured her.
“Will he let me work after marriage…?” she asked.
“Of course, he will let you work – didn’t you both discuss it the other day…?” I said.
“Yes – but I am worried that in the heart of his heart he does not want me to work...” she said.
“I spoke to your fiancé. I asked him very clearly. He wants you to work and have a successful career…” I lied.
“Really…?”
“Yes...” I assured her.
She had a flourishing marriage and a highly successful career – but that did not stop her from bombarding me with her salvoes – her fits and spells of worry – whenever we met from time to time.
“I am worried. Will I have children...?” she was worried.
She had two children – 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...” she worried.
Both her children did very well in their studies and careers.
Her son got into IIT – then into IIM – and he 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...” she said during one of our periodic meetings.
“Now what...?” I asked, exasperated.
“My children’s marriage – you fool. I am worried about my children’s marriage – will my son get a good girl – will she get along with me...? And my daughter….?” she said.
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.
In fact – her daughter-in-law doted on her – and they stayed together as a happy joint family.
And – her daughter – who had married her doctor colleague – she lived nearby – and she 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...” I said.
Her daughter had a very smooth pregnancy – and delivered a bonny boy.
Soon – her daughter-in-law had a baby girl.
Now – she had two grandchildren.
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.
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 all of them together 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.
It seemed to the end of worries – as far as “Worry Amma” was concerned.
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 – instead of me looking after her – most of the time – it was she who was looking after me – and making my life miserable by her constant worrying.
She was always worried:
Will the bus come on time...?
Will she be late for school assembly...?
Will she do well in her exams...?
She worried about her homework – and later – when she grew up – she was worried about how she looked – about her her crushes – she worried about everything – yes – everything – Worry Amma worried about everything you can imagine.
Will the bus come on time...?
Will she be late for school assembly...?
Will she do well in her exams...?
She worried about her homework – and later – when she grew up – she was worried about how she looked – about her her crushes – she worried about everything – yes – everything – Worry Amma worried about everything you can imagine.
I was her sounding board – and she kept bombarding with her worries.
That’s why I secretly called her “Worry Amma”
She did very well at studies.
So did I.
I thought that she – like other girls – would study arts – but to my horror – she too joined the same IIT as I did – and she made my life miserable with her worries for the next five years while we were studying for our B. Tech.
So did I.
I thought that she – like other girls – would study arts – but to my horror – she too joined the same IIT as I did – and she made my life miserable with her worries for the next five years while we were studying for our B. Tech.
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 torrent of worries – 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 – since 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 Restaurant.
She did not ask if she could join me – she just pulled a chair and she 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...” she said.
“Me...? Why are you worried about me...?” I gasped, choking on the food in my mouth.
Worry Amma looked at me with firm determination and she said to me:
“Yes – it is you that I am worried about. 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 you don’t worry – I will find a nice wife for you...”
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.
