08-09-2022, 11:45 AM
Old Man and Indian Wife
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*beepbeep* *beepbeep* *beepbeep*
My wife's cellphone buzzed and rang multiple times to announce the arrival of several text messages as soon as she turned the phone on after the pilot announced it was okay to do so.
"So Shipra." I said icily, "I guess those are all text messages from Jeff?"
Shipra ignored me and her fingers worked the keyboard furiously as she replied to the text messages.
"Only two of them." Shipra said once she got done. "The third was from my sister saying Chintu is doing fine."
"And what did Jeff want? Some recipe perhaps?"
Jeff was our neighbor and "friend" back in New Jersey. He was divorced and lived next door, and lived with his son who was the same age as Chintu - 6. I had started off liking Jeff when we moved into his neighborhood a year back. He was friendly, his son and Chintu got along very well, and he seemed genuinely helpful. Which he still was.
What had started bugging me was that he and Shipra seemed to have become a little too friendly. Shipra was a stay-at-home mom, having quit her job in banking as soon as we had Chintu. And Jeff had a catering business which he managed from his house, and even when he had to be away, it was usually for dinner services at nights or on weekends. So when I was at work and Shipra was home, usually, so was Jeff. And Shipra often told me that he came over or invited her over to talk about recipes and food, a topic Shipra had gotten really interested in of late.
"No, Pavan. He just texted the address of a restaurant he recommends. And wished us both safe travel and a great vacation." Shipra replied.
"You know what'll make my vacation great? No texts from Jeff." I said as I pulled our handbag from the overhead compartment.
"Pavan please. Don't start." Shipra shook her head and slid out from her seat.
After this mini-tiff of sorts, both Shipra and I were silent as we made our way off the plane, got our luggage from baggage claim and took a taxi to the Venetian - a posh casino-resort. I waited for her to break the ice, convinced that I was right in being suspicious of Jeff. I was convinced that he had the hots for my wife, and was working slowly but surely to get her into bed. If, that is, he hadn't already.
Over the past few months, I had noticed a change in Shipra's appearance and demeanor. Usually her attire was pretty standard - jeans or trousers, with modest t-shirts or blouses, and frumpy sweaters. After Chintu's birth, Shipra had gone from a very fashion-savvy and spiffily dressed young woman to the archetypal suburban mom. But recently, I noticed she was wearing skirts more often, with tank tops or blouses with a low neckline. She was back to dressing the way she used to 7 years ago when we met and started dating in Bombay. And I wondered if this sudden change had anything to do with her friendship with Jeff. Although I was glad of the occasional throwback to our initial days together.
Ah, our initial days together. I had been smitten with Shipra the day she walked into the conference room on her first day of work in our bank. She was one of the new trainees, fresh out of business school. I was there in my capacity as my division's Vice President, to address the newbies about our operations. She was dressed in a figure-hugging knee-length black skirt, a formal blouse with one button open, and a matching black blazer. She was tall and not just by Indian standards - 5 ft 10. Her skirt showed that she had an awesome butt and shapely legs. And even the formal blouse and the blazer could not hide the fact that she was exceedingly buxom - 34DD as I later found out.
I found myself staring at her a little longer than appropriate. She obviously noticed, looked right into my eyes, and flashed me a dazzling smile. And that was all it took to get me hooked.
I waited a few weeks before doing anything though. After all. Shipra, a fresh MBA 24 years of age, was 15 years my junior. I was touching 40, and although I worked out regularly to keep my body in shape, the gray was beginning to show at the edges of my hairline. I was still unmarried, thanks to a long long relationship that ended abruptly 5 years ago. I still dated casually, and got plenty of action - a good looking, tall, well-built successful banking executives in his late 30s does not find dating difficult in a city like Bombay. But most of the women I had dated had been my contemporaries. I had never even thought about going after someone in her mid-20s.
Until Shipra walked in that door.
Although she got assigned to my division, I kept things strictly professional. I could see that she was getting a lot of attention from guys her own age, something she seemed glad and adept about handling. But i did get some fairly strong signals from her of her interest in me. She would compliment me on my looks, ask me about my taste in music, movies, and books. And try to spend a lot of time talking about things other than work. And she kept talking about how she wanted to "settle down" but all the guys she met were too "immature".
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*beepbeep* *beepbeep* *beepbeep*
My wife's cellphone buzzed and rang multiple times to announce the arrival of several text messages as soon as she turned the phone on after the pilot announced it was okay to do so.
"So Shipra." I said icily, "I guess those are all text messages from Jeff?"
Shipra ignored me and her fingers worked the keyboard furiously as she replied to the text messages.
"Only two of them." Shipra said once she got done. "The third was from my sister saying Chintu is doing fine."
"And what did Jeff want? Some recipe perhaps?"
Jeff was our neighbor and "friend" back in New Jersey. He was divorced and lived next door, and lived with his son who was the same age as Chintu - 6. I had started off liking Jeff when we moved into his neighborhood a year back. He was friendly, his son and Chintu got along very well, and he seemed genuinely helpful. Which he still was.
What had started bugging me was that he and Shipra seemed to have become a little too friendly. Shipra was a stay-at-home mom, having quit her job in banking as soon as we had Chintu. And Jeff had a catering business which he managed from his house, and even when he had to be away, it was usually for dinner services at nights or on weekends. So when I was at work and Shipra was home, usually, so was Jeff. And Shipra often told me that he came over or invited her over to talk about recipes and food, a topic Shipra had gotten really interested in of late.
"No, Pavan. He just texted the address of a restaurant he recommends. And wished us both safe travel and a great vacation." Shipra replied.
"You know what'll make my vacation great? No texts from Jeff." I said as I pulled our handbag from the overhead compartment.
"Pavan please. Don't start." Shipra shook her head and slid out from her seat.
After this mini-tiff of sorts, both Shipra and I were silent as we made our way off the plane, got our luggage from baggage claim and took a taxi to the Venetian - a posh casino-resort. I waited for her to break the ice, convinced that I was right in being suspicious of Jeff. I was convinced that he had the hots for my wife, and was working slowly but surely to get her into bed. If, that is, he hadn't already.
Over the past few months, I had noticed a change in Shipra's appearance and demeanor. Usually her attire was pretty standard - jeans or trousers, with modest t-shirts or blouses, and frumpy sweaters. After Chintu's birth, Shipra had gone from a very fashion-savvy and spiffily dressed young woman to the archetypal suburban mom. But recently, I noticed she was wearing skirts more often, with tank tops or blouses with a low neckline. She was back to dressing the way she used to 7 years ago when we met and started dating in Bombay. And I wondered if this sudden change had anything to do with her friendship with Jeff. Although I was glad of the occasional throwback to our initial days together.
Ah, our initial days together. I had been smitten with Shipra the day she walked into the conference room on her first day of work in our bank. She was one of the new trainees, fresh out of business school. I was there in my capacity as my division's Vice President, to address the newbies about our operations. She was dressed in a figure-hugging knee-length black skirt, a formal blouse with one button open, and a matching black blazer. She was tall and not just by Indian standards - 5 ft 10. Her skirt showed that she had an awesome butt and shapely legs. And even the formal blouse and the blazer could not hide the fact that she was exceedingly buxom - 34DD as I later found out.
I found myself staring at her a little longer than appropriate. She obviously noticed, looked right into my eyes, and flashed me a dazzling smile. And that was all it took to get me hooked.
I waited a few weeks before doing anything though. After all. Shipra, a fresh MBA 24 years of age, was 15 years my junior. I was touching 40, and although I worked out regularly to keep my body in shape, the gray was beginning to show at the edges of my hairline. I was still unmarried, thanks to a long long relationship that ended abruptly 5 years ago. I still dated casually, and got plenty of action - a good looking, tall, well-built successful banking executives in his late 30s does not find dating difficult in a city like Bombay. But most of the women I had dated had been my contemporaries. I had never even thought about going after someone in her mid-20s.
Until Shipra walked in that door.
Although she got assigned to my division, I kept things strictly professional. I could see that she was getting a lot of attention from guys her own age, something she seemed glad and adept about handling. But i did get some fairly strong signals from her of her interest in me. She would compliment me on my looks, ask me about my taste in music, movies, and books. And try to spend a lot of time talking about things other than work. And she kept talking about how she wanted to "settle down" but all the guys she met were too "immature".
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