Adultery Indian Wife in the Prison of Spring by aurelius1982-Completed
#3
"Mansi, I am so sorry, but I have to get going. A bit of an emergency at work." Reena aunty returned and picked up her purse and her shopping bags.

"Oh, no problem. Where do you work?"

"I am the assistant manager at a hotel nearby. A couple of the staff members didn't show up, so now I have to go fill in for them." she said. "But we should meet Monday for sure."

"Absolutely."

"But don't you dare return that little girl's shoes. If you give me as much as a single paisa, I will never talk to you again."

"Come on, aunty, that's not fair!" Mansi tried to protest, but Reena was already on her way out.

----

Mansi finally managed to drag Pinky out of the ball pit and take her home. She agreed to leave on the condition that she could wear her new purple shoes. Mansi reasoned with her that they would get dirty in the local train on the way back, but she wouldn't budge.

When they walked up the three flights of stairs to their one bedroom apartment, the door was open, and the familiar cacophony of male voices could be heard.

"But Amar, even if Hitler had not been distracted by Yugoslavia, it was a matter of time before the Soviets would have prevailed. Maybe an extra year."

"You don't know what you are talking about." Amar shook his fist in the air. "If the bitz krieg had...oh there you are Mansi."

"Papa, papa, look, new shoes!!" Pinky jumped in his lap.

"Very pretty, my little princess!" he said.

"Namaste, bhabhiji." Amar's friends said.

"Namaste." Mansi said and went to the bathroom to freshen up.

When she got out, Amar was standing there.

"How about some chai?" he said.

"Okay."

"And some of your famous onion pakoras."

"Amar, onions are..."

"Yes, I know, they are very expensive. But you can't put a price on the pleasure of friends." he said and went back to his intellectual conference.

For the next couple of hours, Mansi slaved in the hot kitchen, frying pakoras for her husband and his friends. She hoped against hope that the session would end soon. But they kept rehashing world war 2 history all evening, and she eventually had to make dinner for everyone. Which used up all the vegetables in the house that she had hoped to make last til next week.

By the time everyone dispersed, it was midnight. Pinky was asleep on the bed next to Mansi. Amar came in, and laid down in bed, sighing heavily.

"Dinner was spectacular as always." he said.

Mansi didn't say anything.

"I know you are upset about the onions." Amar finally said.

"Shouldn't I be?" Mansi turned around. "It's not easy for me to budget our needs when you keep bringing friends home without notice."

"You should consider it a compliment, Mansi. They love your cooking so much that they always insist on coming here."

"I don't mind the cooking, Amar. You know that. But I don't have Draupadi's magic plate here. I was hoping to make those onions last at least a couple of weeks for us. And now..."

"I'll get onions tomorrow." Amar flatly said.

"Yes, and that'll be another couple of hundred rupees we didn't budget for."

"Then don't use onions for the next couple of weeks." he said, annoyed.

"Why are you getting annoyed at me?" Mansi flared up.

"Mmmmmm..." Pinky stirred on her bed.

Husband and wife stayed absolutely quiet until she went back to sleep.

"I need to withdraw two thousand rupees tomorrow for Pinky's textbooks and stationery."

"Textbooks...stationery...uniforms...picnics...it's like they are running a for profit business." Amar grumbled.

"You're the one who wanted to put her in that fancy school."

"Education is something I will not compromise on." he said. "Designer shoes on the other hand..."

"She threw an almighty tantrum right in the middle of the store!"

"How much did they cost?"

"Not too much."

"How much?"

"Five hundred." Mansi lied, not wanting to tell him about Reena aunty. She knew her husband was really big on self-respect, self-reliance, and pride.

"You could have just refused to buy them."

Mansi felt really annoyed at this comment. Amar knew how much effort it took to manage Pinky's demands. And handle her tantrums. He himself never really scolded her or said no to anything. He played the good cop. Mansi was supposed to be the bad cop.

She felt like throwing a tantrum of my own. But she just seethed silently in anger, half-expecting Amar to apologize. But soon, his patent snores filled the room.

----------

"It's not even like I am asking for anything extravagant for myself. It's not like I expect him to buy me diamond necklaces or take me on a European vacation. But is it too much to expect him to show some recognition of our situation?"

"Not at all." Reena aunty sympathetically nodded.

"I know he himself is a very simple man. And he is a very nice person. Nice to a fault. Part of the reason our financial situation is tight is that he keeps donating a chunk of his salary to this charity that helps slum children go to school. I appreciate his generosity. But isn't it prudent to take care of your own family before going to help others? Hasn't he heard that charity begins at home?"

"Some dessert ma'am?" a waiter appeared out of nowhere.

"No, thank you. I am already stuffed." Mansi said.

"The chocolate lava cake here is divine. Try some." Reena aunty said.

"Really, I couldn't."

"Get her one." she said to the waiter who smiled, nodded and walked away.

"Aunty, this is too much. I am really really full." Mansi protested. And she really was full. The rich food at the restaurant was not something she was used to.

"Just have a couple of bites. You won't regret it."

Mansi was overcome by a sense of gratitude for the nice lady. She had called up Monday morning asking if Mansi could meet her at her hotel. It was a very fancy four star hotel in Malad, the likes of which the young middle class housewife had never stepped into. She then took her to lunch at a posh restaurant next door, insisting that it would be her treat.

She was being so nice that Mansi couldn't help but unload all her troubles and complaints on her. Mansi didn't really have any close friends. She spent some time now and then with Amar's friends' wives and Pinky's friends' mothers, but there was no one she was close enough to for her to open up like this. Her last close friend had been in college in Meerut and she had lost touch with her after getting married and moving to Bombay.

So Reena aunty was like a throwback to her younger more carefree days. And she had been so nice and generous. Mansi felt an instant bond forming. Reena aunty had listened patiently throughout lunch to all the whines about her middle class life.

"Mansi, let me ask you something." she said, folding her palms under her chin. "Why don't you just get a job?"

"Hehe. Who'll give me a job?"

"Why not?"

"I have no skills, no real qualifications. Just a meaningless B.A. from a college no one has heard of even in Meerut. That too with mediocre grades."

"Don't be so hard on yourself."

"I am just being honest, aunty. I have seen how it works nowadays. Everyone has an MBA or an MS or some sort of an advanced degree. Even these career-oriented women. But my parents never really thought of me having a career." Mansi sounded a little resentful.

"Lots of people have jobs even without an MBA." Reena said.

"Besides, even if I did get a job, who will take care of the house and Pinky? We can just barely afford a maid for washing clothes. I have to wash the dishes, cook, clean the house, take care of Pinky's homework..."

"I could give you a job."

"That's very nice of you. But like I just said, with all my household duties..."

"It won't take up too much time." Reena aunty said.

"You mean in your hotel?"

"Sort of." she mysteriously answered.

That's when the waiter came with thedelectable chocolate lava cake. Mansi stared at it wide-eyed, like Pinky would have. Dinners in posh restaurants like these were way beyond their means. They usually ate at mid-level udipi type restaurants, that too on special occasions. The most fancy dessert there was a scoop of chocolate ice cream with a cherry on top that Pinky always demanded.

"Dig in." Reena aunty said, handing her a gleaming spoon.

"Mmmmmmmm." Mansi moaned in delight as the rich gooey chocolate filling danced around in her mouth. Although she had really felt full, this heavenly dessert whetted her appetite again.

Ten minutes later, Mansi had finished the whole thing. Reena aunty paid the bill and they started walking back to her hotel.

"Thank you so much for lunch, aunty." Mansi said, as Reena led her into her office.

"You're welcome, sweetie." she said. "No offense, but it looked like you really needed that."

"What do you mean?"

"Some indulgence...something nice...something out of the ordinary. Your life needs some more sunshine."

"What my life needs is some more money." Mansi bitterly said.

"So would you be interested in a job?" she asked.

"In the hotel? Like a receptionist?"

"Sure, you could be a receptionist if you want." Reena aunty said. "But those shifts are a minimum of 8 hours."

"Oh, that doesn't seem like something I could do."

"Hmmm." Reena said, playing with her phone. "I will think of something. Do you want some tea?"

"No thanks, aunty, I am so full with that dessert." Mansi said.

"It is amazing, right?" Reena smiled. "I have it at least once a week."

"I wish I could afford to. I saw the price on the menu. It was...let's say it cost a lot more than the ice cream we have at our usual restaurant." Mansi said. "Thank you again for the treat. And the shoes. You are being so kind. I wish I could repay you back in some way."

"Nonsense!" Reena shrugged. "You are an old friend. Friends shouldn't really bother about repaying stuff."

There was a lull in the conversation. Then Reena started talking again.
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RE: Indian Wife in the Prison of Spring by aurelius1982 - by Ramesh_Rocky - 10-01-2019, 04:41 PM



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