05-02-2023, 06:17 PM
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 college."
"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.
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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 college."
"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.
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