28-02-2026, 10:14 PM
(This post was last modified: 28-02-2026, 10:27 PM by garamrohan. Edited 2 times in total. Edited 2 times in total.)
Well, we have grown up seeing the strict nature of Papa but sometimes he becomes too unreasonable. I mean, I knew in the morning itself he wouldn't join us for the market visit in the evening; but why not mummy? Common.. she was sensible enough to know how to carry herself along with the newly-wed couple without spoiling their privacy, and I was anyway going with them.
But dad had got a new excuse by then - mummy’s dizziness in the morning. Well, it was nothing of serious kind, and I knew exactly what made her feel uncomfortable at the moment. Nothing was to happen to her due to roaming in the market, rather that would have made her feel better.
We were all ready and papa was sitting on the reclined chair, reading an old magazine. Di signaled mummy to get ready; mummy just smiled pointing at papa. She had been so loyal to him and so careful for all of us, that she had no ambitions, wishes for herself. Her world started and ended with us. And that thing had made me respect and love her even more.
As we were stepping outside, Jiju cleared his throat and with a smiling face said, “See Papa ji, mummy ji is not yet ready. We are getting late.” Dad’s check post collapsed with that super missile launched by Jiju. And he himself had to turn his face out of paper and ask mummy to go along with us.
Well I love cycling so much, but there is nothing as joyful as walking with your family in the market. I was walking with Jiju, trying to impress him with my PJs while mummy and Di followed us. Quite a womanly chat they had been having! Di was so lucky to have such a forward minded husband, I thought. Considering this was happening around 2000-01, how many husbands were okay with letting their wife go with her choice of food, education and career? She was wearing a washed out denim Jean, and a cream coloured, loose-fit T shirt. And the golden, delicate earrings. Those were big round, the size of a bangle and literally touching her shoulder. She looked like a model in that attire. Needless to say, watching her in that attire had brought creases at dad’s forehead. But now at least she was out of the cage; she had got someone who cared for her more than controlling her.
“Mummy ji, we will eat outside only, can carry parcel for Papa ji,” suggested Jiju.
“You guys please enjoy. I have prepared food for me and Meenakshi’s papa,” mummy replied, “ he doesn't like outside food.”
“But you do, right? Common mummy ji. There is no point in coming to the market and returning empty stomach. Meenakshi was boasting of the tasty chats, panipuri, snacks and what not. Is it true or just another blunder of her?” He winked at Di.
“See for yourself. We are not far away,” Di.
“ The Panipuri you should definitely try, damad ji. It’s the best,” Mummy spoke up soothingly. The faint smile was glorifying her pretty face. Lipstick – never she put on, nor did she need it.
We argued that bhel/chat is much better. It was the only thing on which Di and I had a consensus.
“I will eat Panipuri only,” Jiju teased us, “After all how can I let down the word from my mother in law. And Minakshi is not foody at all, her food choice is so decent.”
It took us a good deal of time to roam around the market. Like always, there was very little buying and so much of exploring. I gifted the wrist bands to Jiju and Di. Whereas mummy purchased a shawl and some accessories for Di’s in-laws. It took a lot of time for them to finish shopping as Jiju and I wandered aimlessly in the market. We told the ladies to finish shopping and meet us at a famous panipuri shop, so we were heading there and suddenly I saw him.
The rambo guy was standing at a panipuri thaila (stall) and the seller was scolding him to get out. But he kept begging for some pani puri with spread out hand. I was disgusted to see him there, that would have spoiled mummy’s mood again, who was looking very happy chilling out with us. After some time he retired from there. The good thing was, he went to the other side of the market and not towards where we wanted to go for having Panipuri.
As I turned, I saw Jiju purchasing gajras (jasmine strings). I went to him, smiling.
“It's good that you are purchasing, but will your dear wife be able to wear it in her short hair?”
“Haha.. that’s a valid point Rohan, but it smells great isn’t it?” He smelled one thread and handled me with the other. The flowers were fresh and the scent was enticing. He asked for two gajaras. One for Di and of course another for mummy. Good then, I thought. At least mummy would wear gajara. That naturally used to look great on her with her long, beautiful hair; be it in bun, braid or loose.
We headed to the shop then. That shop, being famous, was always full of customers. Hence the owner had made a good sitting arrangement. We gave the order. Di and I ordered chat whereas Jiju and mummy ordered panipuri.
“So delicious.. I must agree you have great taste mummy ji,” Jiju picked up another pani puri to relish. He seemed to have liked the panipuri very much. And mummy always liked pani puri. They even ordered one more plate. That evening was turning out to be wonderful. Our conversation had become colorful in the backdrop of the aroma of the chat house.
And suddenly that Rambo guy appeared from nowhere, standing naively in front of the shop. Begging for a plate of panipuri. I became nervous and as I turned to see mummy, she coughed suddenly, spilling water over her body. She excused herself and stopped eating. Her mood instantly became bad.
“What happened mummy ji? Please help me finish, I can't finish all this?” Jiju insisted. But I knew mummy would not be eating anything. I also become super conscious, keeping an eye on the Rambo guy for whether he notices us. At one point he looked towards us, but I couldn’t see any sign of remembrance in his eyes.
‘
Eventually the owner bowed to the persistence that the Rambo guy showed and packed some stuff to him into a newspaper and asked him to get lost. He happily picked that up and just looked towards us, just for a second, and left.
“What? Did he notice us? Did he even remember mummy? It cannot be. He is a mad guy after all.” I tried to convince my mind all the way back to home.
It was past 8:30 and the air was very cold. As we headed towards home, Jiju graciously offered his jerk-in to mummy, saying that she needed it most. For mummy and me the evening had turned out to be very unusual – a mix of great joy with a tint of dark, awkward feeling.
But dad had got a new excuse by then - mummy’s dizziness in the morning. Well, it was nothing of serious kind, and I knew exactly what made her feel uncomfortable at the moment. Nothing was to happen to her due to roaming in the market, rather that would have made her feel better.
We were all ready and papa was sitting on the reclined chair, reading an old magazine. Di signaled mummy to get ready; mummy just smiled pointing at papa. She had been so loyal to him and so careful for all of us, that she had no ambitions, wishes for herself. Her world started and ended with us. And that thing had made me respect and love her even more.
As we were stepping outside, Jiju cleared his throat and with a smiling face said, “See Papa ji, mummy ji is not yet ready. We are getting late.” Dad’s check post collapsed with that super missile launched by Jiju. And he himself had to turn his face out of paper and ask mummy to go along with us.
Well I love cycling so much, but there is nothing as joyful as walking with your family in the market. I was walking with Jiju, trying to impress him with my PJs while mummy and Di followed us. Quite a womanly chat they had been having! Di was so lucky to have such a forward minded husband, I thought. Considering this was happening around 2000-01, how many husbands were okay with letting their wife go with her choice of food, education and career? She was wearing a washed out denim Jean, and a cream coloured, loose-fit T shirt. And the golden, delicate earrings. Those were big round, the size of a bangle and literally touching her shoulder. She looked like a model in that attire. Needless to say, watching her in that attire had brought creases at dad’s forehead. But now at least she was out of the cage; she had got someone who cared for her more than controlling her.
“Mummy ji, we will eat outside only, can carry parcel for Papa ji,” suggested Jiju.
“You guys please enjoy. I have prepared food for me and Meenakshi’s papa,” mummy replied, “ he doesn't like outside food.”
“But you do, right? Common mummy ji. There is no point in coming to the market and returning empty stomach. Meenakshi was boasting of the tasty chats, panipuri, snacks and what not. Is it true or just another blunder of her?” He winked at Di.
“See for yourself. We are not far away,” Di.
“ The Panipuri you should definitely try, damad ji. It’s the best,” Mummy spoke up soothingly. The faint smile was glorifying her pretty face. Lipstick – never she put on, nor did she need it.
We argued that bhel/chat is much better. It was the only thing on which Di and I had a consensus.
“I will eat Panipuri only,” Jiju teased us, “After all how can I let down the word from my mother in law. And Minakshi is not foody at all, her food choice is so decent.”
It took us a good deal of time to roam around the market. Like always, there was very little buying and so much of exploring. I gifted the wrist bands to Jiju and Di. Whereas mummy purchased a shawl and some accessories for Di’s in-laws. It took a lot of time for them to finish shopping as Jiju and I wandered aimlessly in the market. We told the ladies to finish shopping and meet us at a famous panipuri shop, so we were heading there and suddenly I saw him.
The rambo guy was standing at a panipuri thaila (stall) and the seller was scolding him to get out. But he kept begging for some pani puri with spread out hand. I was disgusted to see him there, that would have spoiled mummy’s mood again, who was looking very happy chilling out with us. After some time he retired from there. The good thing was, he went to the other side of the market and not towards where we wanted to go for having Panipuri.
As I turned, I saw Jiju purchasing gajras (jasmine strings). I went to him, smiling.
“It's good that you are purchasing, but will your dear wife be able to wear it in her short hair?”
“Haha.. that’s a valid point Rohan, but it smells great isn’t it?” He smelled one thread and handled me with the other. The flowers were fresh and the scent was enticing. He asked for two gajaras. One for Di and of course another for mummy. Good then, I thought. At least mummy would wear gajara. That naturally used to look great on her with her long, beautiful hair; be it in bun, braid or loose.
We headed to the shop then. That shop, being famous, was always full of customers. Hence the owner had made a good sitting arrangement. We gave the order. Di and I ordered chat whereas Jiju and mummy ordered panipuri.
“So delicious.. I must agree you have great taste mummy ji,” Jiju picked up another pani puri to relish. He seemed to have liked the panipuri very much. And mummy always liked pani puri. They even ordered one more plate. That evening was turning out to be wonderful. Our conversation had become colorful in the backdrop of the aroma of the chat house.
And suddenly that Rambo guy appeared from nowhere, standing naively in front of the shop. Begging for a plate of panipuri. I became nervous and as I turned to see mummy, she coughed suddenly, spilling water over her body. She excused herself and stopped eating. Her mood instantly became bad.
“What happened mummy ji? Please help me finish, I can't finish all this?” Jiju insisted. But I knew mummy would not be eating anything. I also become super conscious, keeping an eye on the Rambo guy for whether he notices us. At one point he looked towards us, but I couldn’t see any sign of remembrance in his eyes.
‘
Eventually the owner bowed to the persistence that the Rambo guy showed and packed some stuff to him into a newspaper and asked him to get lost. He happily picked that up and just looked towards us, just for a second, and left.
“What? Did he notice us? Did he even remember mummy? It cannot be. He is a mad guy after all.” I tried to convince my mind all the way back to home.
It was past 8:30 and the air was very cold. As we headed towards home, Jiju graciously offered his jerk-in to mummy, saying that she needed it most. For mummy and me the evening had turned out to be very unusual – a mix of great joy with a tint of dark, awkward feeling.
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