The Argument..

This morning, I woke up and once again, you weren't next to me. Your side of the bed stayed untouched, unruffled and cold. And with my eyes closed, my arm kept searching for you, till my brain finally told me you weren't there. It took a few more minutes to remember you hadn't been there for a while now - two months and twelve days to be exact.

You were always the patient one and you used to call me the 'Angry young Turk', when you were in a good mood. Those were the times when you found my anger cute or even funny. I would grow angrier and keep ranting about the ills in the society while you tried to calm me down with an ice-cream or chocolate. You would put your hand on my head and say "120 degrees". I would finally succumb to the ice-cream and your joke and start smiling.

When you were angry though, it was a different matter. You knew exactly what to say to cause maximum hurt. The anger wasn't always rational though. Something trivial could make you furious and you would say something so disproportionately mean, that I would feel like I was punched in the gut. And later you would apologize profusely and we would be smiling again. But those words would make me wary for at least a few more months.

Once it was about me not wanting to watch Star Trek. I was showing enough enthusiasm when you were narrating the story hoping I would watch it with you. Someone that became proof of my closed-mindedness. And you said I could never be a good mother, because I was too narrow-minded. The connection between Star Trek and the qualities required to be a good mother, existed in your mind. I think I stared at you looking shocked, wondering what had just happened and walked to the kitchen sink with tears in my eyes. It took you some minutes to see me there, to see my tears, realize what had caused those tears and then apologize. We watched some episodes of Star Trek that day.

That fateful day, the argument was about something stupid. Really! So so so so so stupid. You were planning to make idlis for breakfast and asked me to make chutney. I was in a playful mood and said I wasn't taking orders from you. I was thinking of surprising you with not one, but two kinds of chutney when you returned from your daily run. After some back and forth, you said "You know what? You put the happiest man on earth with you for some time and you can make him miserable". And then you stormed out of the house for jogging. 

But this time it was different. You didn't apologize. You didn't come back. I waited for over two hours - but there was no sign of you. I panicked after that. I called your number and didn't get an answer. I didn't know what to do. I called some of your friends - the few you had introduced, but they hadn't heard from you either. You don't know what it means to the one waiting at home. I went through panic, worry and then even guilt when your number wasn't answered. 

You were the most progressive person I had met. You hated traditions. You didn't believe in marriage - you told me that for you to live with someone you liked, you didn't need society's approval. Not everyone has the same ideas though. When I went to the police station to file a missing persons complaint, the lady constable there did not understand the word "Partner". She asked me if I was your wife and then if I was your sister. She didn't have "partner" in the list of female relatives. So she had to settle for "friend".

And finally Muthu - the peon from your office called me with the news, I rushed to the hospital. Your mother was there and she was as hostile as she was the last time I had met with her. She yelled at me and said I had caused this, I had ruined her son's life and that I had caused his death. 

If I had known that I was never going to see your face again, would I have been less playful and simply agreed to make that stupid chutney? Would that have delayed you a little? Is it possible that had you gone out a little later than you actually did, you would have avoided being run-over by that car?

I know this sounds cruel, but why couldn't you have died that day, when you said you were the luckiest guy on the earth ? That was the third anniversary of the day we had moved in together. We were so happy, we spent the whole day together. Why not then? I could have lived with those memories.
If you had known that it was the last time you were speaking to me, would you have said something nicer? Something I could have cherished in the days that followed? Would you have said what you said, if you knew you were never going to be able to apologize for them, leave alone take them back? Because amidst the pain of losing you, and the humiliation of being shooed away, the last words you uttered to my face keep coming back. I go into a loop of ifs and buts and many nights I have to stand under the shower as if that will wash away the thoughts. 
I don't think I have loved any man as much as I have loved you. And I don't hate anyone as much as I hate you now. You were a selfish and cruel man and I can't live without you....

The Wise Ones.

“Thatha, you can’t be a student in our school. You are too old!”, said Vikky.

“You let Paatti be a student? Why can’t Thatha join?” said Charu.

“It’s ok Charu, I can just watch” I said.

Once again, I sat wondering how much life had changed with Vikky and Anu. Who would have thought that a boring old man like me, would find life interesting again at this age?

I remember my mother telling me, when Chandru was born, that only those who had committed some big sin in the past life would have girl children. I don’t know if she meant for Charu to hear it. Charu – who had grown up with two sisters, and who had to endure my mother’s acid-tongue and my complicity with my silence – never supporting, but then, never protesting either. That is how I was brought up – to never talk back to elders. I guess, that’s how Charu was brought up too. She protested weakly sometimes within the confines of our room, but then gave up after a while.

Charu wanted to name our son ‘Trivikraman’. She never got to even suggest it to my mother, who had already decided upon Chandramouli, after the deity in Kanchipuram. Apparently she wanted to name me that, but her mother-in-law chose my name – Sankaran. I guess the term ‘irony’ wasn’t very popular then.

I wasn’t a great husband – I was too busy being a good son, to my mother who had single-handedly brought me up after her husband left her for another woman, when she was barely 17. And Charu’s upbringing was different from mine, but she managed. Towards the end, my mother had grown totally dependent on her. Charu, to her credit, never brought up the small cruelties my mother had inflicted on her. Women!!

I don’t think I was a great father either. It just wasn’t usual in our times for the fathers to spend so much time with the children. It was considered abnormal. I was supposed to be the provider in the family and that was what I did. In my 40 years of service in the bank, I never took a day of sick leave. I took two days off each for Chandru’s wedding and then for Sarvesh’s wedding.

In our household, we didn’t have conversations. The children spoke to their mother sometimes, on politics or movies. If there was something important to be conveyed, it usually came through Charu. But once Nandini joined our household, it was like something had changed. Nandini spoke to Charu about everything. Apparently Charu was very well read – I heard Nandu remarking about it once. Everyday she would make Charu sit down and tell her everything about her day at work. I had to pretend to be watching the news, or reading the newspaper while eavesdropping.

I got to know about Corporates and the work-culture from Nandini. I got to know that pasta and pizza are tasty too and can be made at home – I had never ventured beyond ‘Onion Rava dosa’ at Sangeetha. And apparently, there was something called ‘Slim Fit’ in shirts and it seems pale blue suits me more than boring white. There was a whole world that I had no idea about! And thanks to Nandini, I got to know some part of it. Nandu even tried to make me read some books. I had read my share of Sidney Sheldon and Harold Robbins, but these new generation writers were excellent!

And Charu! It was like she was a flower who had been waiting to bloom. Nandu used to take her shopping and make her wear some sort of flowing shirt – it was a kurti apparently. I had heard only of kurtas. Who would have thought even clothes had a gender! I started seeing my wife in a new light. She was such an intelligent woman and after all these years I felt guilty for refusing to let her work, because my mother did not like it. I wanted to tell her how sorry I was, but I couldn’t. I simply wasn’t brought up that way. But I think Charu understood. She had understood my helplessness then and she understood my silent apology later.

These days I am very busy. My role as a grandfather is something I cherish. I didn’t know children could be so much fun. And the intensity of love I feel for them, is frightening sometimes. For someone who was told to keep his emotions to himself all the time, the swelling in my heart when the little ones hugged me or made me a birthday card, was something I had never experienced before!

Vikky, when he was young was quite a handful. He used to crawl into the most unlikely places and taunt all of us. Since feeding them their evening snacks was a duty Nandu had assigned to me, I was forced to strain my creaky joints begging him to crawl out so that I could feed him. He used to play with my glasses and my newspaper would often be in shreds before I could even get to them. But I loved every minute of it.

I wanted to tell Chandru to not make the same mistakes I had made when I was younger. The children – they matter, and the time spent with them – it matters, more than anything else. We still spoke in grunts and monosyllables and I couldn’t convey everything I wanted with them. The day I saw him changing Vikky’s diapers without complaining, I realized I didn’t have anything to tell him.

If I thought Vikky was a handful, Anu was another matter altogether. From the time she could crawl, she had every one of us wrapped around her tiny little finger. If Vikky played with my glasses, Anu liked to play with my moustache. Every waking moment she wanted attention. Even tireless Nandu, couldn’t handle hurricane-Anu and put her in a daycare, amidst loud protests from Charu and me.

“Amma, Appa, both of you need some sleep and rest. This kid is a monster. We need some time off. Besides she will learn something useful in playschool”.

The days of watching news were long gone and all of us had to be sitting around her while she bossed over us. And Charu and I now sang “Wheels on the bus” and “I am a little teapot” when we were immersed in our work.

And our most recent game was Teacher Teacher. Charu told me this was a popular game that was going to last the next 3 to 4 years. Charu was always the student and Anu was always the strict teacher. Vikky was given some honorary position like the art teacher or something, but I was allowed only to watch.

Nandu had to finally intervene that day.

“You have to include Thatha in your game Anu”, she said. “He gets you icecream and chocolates, doesn’t he? Be nice to him”.

“This is a girls school. Boys can’t be students”, she countered.

“Vikky is playing with you?” said Nandu.

“He is only the art teacher”, said Anu.

Vikky tried too. “Can we make him the principal? He can then do nothing and sit in the corner?”

“But why can’t you make him a student?” said Nandu.

“Amma, Thatha doesn’t know anything! How can he be the student? He can be a principal if he wants to. But he has to listen to me”.

So that’s how I became the principal of the school. And yeah, there was one thing everybody in the household agreed with -“Thatha knows nothing”. And my mother was wrong about one thing – only the lucky ones have daughters!

The Good One..

The joke wasn't even particularly funny, but I was laughing my head off. And Chandru was laughing too. He knew it wasn't so funny either. But something about being stuck in the office at 7 pm, after getting a heavy lashing from my manager, and the rain pouring outside and not letting me leave, made the joke funnier than it actually was.
That, and the expectant look on Chandru's face after delivering punch line, his eyes twinkling, but also full of hope.
Chandru wasn't the most handsome looking guy in the office. He wasn't even the smartest, but he was the most gentlemanly of all. It wasn't that I had a crush on him. But when the other older guys acted like entitled male chauvinists, Chandru's diffidence made me take notice of him. His self-depracating sense-of-humour was like a breath of fresh air.
And that evening, in the office, waiting for the rain to stop, there was something in the air. Most of the others had left. I realized that Chandru was cracking these jokes to make me feel less conscious of the almost empty office. I knew he had looked at me often when he thought I wasn't looking, but when the chance to say something childish and supposedly romantic to me came up, he did not take it, and somehow that made me respect him further. He walked me to the auto-stand and waited up till it turned the corner.
I was all of 22 then and Chandru, I came to know later, was just 20. But we got to talking often - usually in lunch groups. We ended up talking only to each other even then, but going in a group helped in maintaining the facade that this was nothing more than casual friendship.
After a month, I knew I really didn't care about what people thought and asked him out for lunch. I could see that he was elated. If I had left it all to him, he could have gone on in the same manner for the next 10 years and pining inside. I was the one who declared my love to him. He simply said 'Me too', the first time.
The heady feeling of being in love affected him more than me. He was forever giving me gifts and cheesy cards. He thanked me many times when I agreed to let him hold my hand - he had asked for my permission. I found it cute, when he summoned up courage to ask me out for a movie. It was the noon-show of some romantic Hindi movie. He held my hand and when the hall was dark enough, slowly lifted it. I was trying to suppress my giggle. This guy was really cute! The screen lit up with some song and the hand went down. In another 10 minutes, the screen went dark and this time Chandru quickly lifted my hand and planted a kiss. I was looking at him and he kept looking at the screen. It was more funny than romantic. But that kiss had increased his courage - he lifted his hand to my lips and held it there. I bit into it and the poor guy looked wounded (and was actually wounded, because I had bitten hard).
Those days seem straight out of a romantic film. We were making excuses at home to stay back longer at work. At the office excursion to Mahabalipuram, we hung back to enjoy each others' company and even took solitary walks to get away from the other boring people. When others tried to join us during lunch, we gave out subtle and sometimes not so subtle hints, to leave us alone.
I introduced him to my parents, who treated him like they would treat any of my friends. And he introduced me to his parents, during their housewarming ceremony - it was a tiny house, compared to mine. Only, he introduced me along with the others from office. I think his mother suspected something, but I wasn't completely sure.  After marriage, if things didn't work out with her, we could always move out, I thought.
A few months later, my mother broached the subject of marriage. There were some good proposals they had received, she said. I didn't answer immediately.
"I like someone else ma. You know him too." I said.
"Who?"
"Chandru. Remember? I introduced him to you the other day."
"But he is younger than you, isn't he? You told me so yourself. He looks younger than you too! He will look like your younger brother! Besides isn't he shorter than you?"
"How does it matter ma? We love each other!"
"But he is not from our community either! If there was just one problem I can fight for it. But here everything seems to be a problem! Is he rich at least? That can cover a lot of things."
"No, he is from a middle class family - just like me, in case you forgot".
"Lakshmi, you are not a child anymore. I may sound like a villain to you now. But a parent wants only the best for her child and will always look out for her. You will know when you have children. This marriage is not happening"
"But why? Because he is not rich? Or because he is from another community? Or is it the age?"
"It is all the above, but most importantly the age. You don't know about men. They tire of their wives' looks very soon. Add to it the fact that women age faster than men and you know what kind of foolishness you are talking about".
"Ever heard of love ma?"
"Love can happen after marriage my dear. It is a safer time to fall in love - fewer chances of heartbreak and lesser risk of the a commitment-phobic partner"
"What would you know about love ma?"
"You don't need to know what I know. So no, I am not letting this happen".
I fought, argued, begged, but Ma remained firm.
I made a decision. The next day, I walked up to Chandru's desk and told him I had something to tell him.
"My parents are looking for an alliance. I told them about you. But they refused flat out. Let's get married at the registrar's office. Are you ready?"
"But we are too young for marriage", he said.
"You weren't young for love? My parents think I am at the right age. What should I tell them?"
"Why did they refuse?" he asked, trying to buy some time.
"They say you are younger than me - that you aren't rich enough - that you aren't from our community".
"They are right though. You have lived the life of a princess. I have just started working. I wouldn't want you to suffer for my sake."
"What? So when were you planning to say all this Chandru? Whenever I raised the question of marriage? If it is about the size of your house, I will ask my father to give us his Adyar flat. You and I can move there."
"It's not like that Lakshmi. You know I love you dearly. I am only thinking of your good".
"Why is it that everybody is thinking of my good, but not my happiness?"
He stood there in the cafeteria, with tears in his eyes.
"What were you thinking Chandru? Why didn't you think of all this in the beginning - when I proposed to you? What would you rather have me do?"
And yet, he said nothing. And I walked away, with my heart broken, by well-meaning people who were only looking out for me.
My wedding was like that of many Indian girls- NRI groom, dating on skype, photographs before the actual ceremony to apply for a green card etc. etc. I didn't invite Chandru.
Raghu turned out to be everything Chandru wasn't - tall, striking, well-read and rich. I was lucky that he was also a good person. Love didn't happen immediately. I can't remember the exact moment it happened - maybe it was when 10 days after marriage, Raghu sat me down next to him and said "Lakshmi, all of us have a past. I am not going to ask you about it, nor am I going to tell you anything about mine. The human mind is untrustworthy and so I don't know what my mind would do with that kind of knowledge about you. But here, this moment, we are together. We can be good friends, and good companions. No matter how we were before this, we will be honest with each other from this minute, and respect each other as equals" - it sounded better than the mantras the priest recited during our marriage.
Maybe it was when he insisted that I should continue my education and enrolled me for graduate school. Or when he cooked a dinner with all my favourite dishes on the last day of my exams - maybe it was when he had tears in his eyes when I was crying out in labour pains - or when one morning I found him asleep on his rocking chair next to the crib, with Sanju on his shoulder. I can't remember the exact moment - but somewhere it looks like love did happen.
That day, we were in Lifestyle. We had come on our annual trip to Chennai and I was looking at some t-shirts, when I felt someone watching me. It was good old Chandru - with a tiny paunch and a little less hair on his head - but otherwise pretty much the same as he looked before. And from the looks of it, he was trying to hide from me. It was really funny. I was inquiring into his well-being when Sanju and the younger one Sia walked in arguing over something. Soon a gorgeous looking woman walked out of the dressing room. She introduced herself to me but seemed to have sensed something. Looks like Chandru had done well for himself! An older woman - Chandru's mother! - walked right behind them. She seemed to have recognized me almost immediately. Her expression changed from surprise to worry to fake-happiness in a matter of seconds and she quickly averted her gaze and turned to the kids.
I quickly took leave from there to save them all further embarrassment. I hoped to feel something after the sudden meeting - some kind of nostalgia or sadness. But it felt like everything that had happened with Chandru, had happened to someone else - a young, foolish and headstrong girl. In fact, I couldn't remember the last time I had even thought of him.

"Sia, you are not getting that gun. It is dangerous." I yelled at Sia.
"You always do that! You hate me!!" said a wailing Sia.
It's true - what Ma said then - parents have to look out for the kids.

The Evil one..

“It was a very intense relationship. We were very much in love, but fate was against us. We could not get married. So now you know. I will be a loyal husband. I can promise a peaceful life, where you will never want anything material. I can’t promise my heart. That was taken many years back”,  I told Nandini, the girl my parents had chosen for me, when we met for the first time in a coffee shop. She just gave me her enigmatic smile, which to this day, I have not been able to decide whether was mocking me or was simply one of amusement. It never struck me to ask her if she had any past love. It didn’t matter. Young girls have crushes all the time. I didn’t care for them.

It wasn’t as though I cared about what Nandini thought about me. But I wanted to lay my cards on the table right at the start. I didn’t want her coming in with expectations of finding love in marriage etc. The marriage was mostly for the sake of my parents, but also because I was a practical guy. Everybody gets married and settles down. So I did too. I don’t know what made her agree, but agree she did.

I had promised myself that I would never love anyone like I had loved Lakshmi. Of course I had had flings with other women afterwards – smart and sassy women I had met at work – but only before marriage. Marriage was never in my mind when I flirted with them of course. I was aware it was flirting. In my opinion, love happens only once in a man’s life. And mine was over.

Nandini was a good girl though. She was intelligent, witty, pretty (I think) and most importantly she got along famously with my parents, especially with my mother. In fact, on seeing her photo, Amma declared that there was no way someone so beautiful would agree to marry someone average looking like me – so much for parental love being blind to faults.

Amma, who was getting tired of being around only men after her marriage – with my father, my brother and me, welcomed Nandu with open arms. I was relieved in many ways that they got along more like friends than anything. In fact, sometimes the problem was that they got along too well. Since they never fought with each other, they ganged up against my father and me most of the time. And within a month, my father surrendered unconditionally. So it was now just me against the rest of the family (my brother was studying in the US).

If not love, some kind of camaraderie developed with time – especially after I accepted that she was way above me.  I was an average guy who watched Big Boss on TV, read gossip columns on film websites, watched every sports program on TV, had an opinion on the gutter politics of India, which I freely gave to my mother (who royally ignored it). In short, I was becoming a younger version of my father. Nandu was well-read and smart, but totally without any pretensions. She asked for very little and spoke very little. I had overheard her discussing some books with Amma, but she was mostly silent around me. There was nothing uncomfortable about the silence though – just the knowledge that there weren’t that many things in common to discuss.

In my philosophical moods, I used to tell her about Lakshmi. About how we fell for each other, that precise moment when both of us realized we wanted to be together, the walks on beaches, the opposition from her parents, my hesitation to fight with them, my insecurity about my ability to be a good husband etc. I left out Lakshmi’s name and the bits about the stolen kisses, the weekend getaways to Mahabalipuram etc., for though Nandu was a mature woman, she was still a woman married to me. I never told her Lakshmi’s name. Sometimes I even told her about my various other crushes, before and after Lakshmi – they felt like my achievements in my otherwise dull life. Nandu never said anything, just listened with that half smile on her lips.

Once when we were alone, we were discussing children. And a sudden wave of nostalgia came over me and I told her “Nandu, if we have a girl, can I pick the name?”.

“What name did you have in mind?”

“Reshmi or Sia or Savitha or Lakshmi?” I said.

“Sure. If it is a boy, can I pick the name?” she said smilingly.

“Uhh… What names did you have in mind?”

“Suresh or Vikram or Raghu or Rohit?”, now she was definitely laughing.

“Ok, I give up. When the time comes – girl or boy – we can pick a name that is not any of the above ” I surrendered.

A month or so later, I was browsing the shirts section at Lifestyle, while Nandu and Amma were trying out some kurtis – matching ones, if you can imagine that – when I saw her. Something about her – the way she stood with her left hip thrust out and her right hand on her right hip or the way her neck was tilted slightly to the right – seemed familiar. And then I heard her voice and I knew it was Lakshmi. Before I could hide behind one of the racks, she seemed to have sensed me watching her and turned. It was Lakshmi all right. She had put on some weight, but still looked beautiful. My heart was in my mouth and I was praying to the Almighty that my nervousness did not show on my face.

“Chandru! It has been so long since I saw you! How are you these days? Where are you? Are you on FB? Give me your mobile number. I will WhatsApp you! So much to talk. Are you married? How many children? You should come home with your kids sometime.”

How could she act so normal? Had she forgotten everything? How could she smile at me like I was an old friend? She didn’t seem to be faking her happiness either! There was nothing wistful about her looks or smile!

And just like the Santoor ad, a cute looking toddler – about 3 years old-  came running “Amma, Sanju won’t give me the gun!”

A 5-or-so years old boy came running behind her – “But she already has the car!”

And the beautiful mom looked at them, asked them to share their toys and turned back to me. There was no guilt, no sense of loss, nothing in the eyes that looked at me. We could have met at kindergarten for all the lack of romance there.

“Chandru, this one or this one? Amma likes this, but I like the blue one better” said Nandu, stepping out of the dressing room. She looked at me and looked at Lakshmi.

“Are you Chandru’s wife? I am Lakshmi! We used to work together. I got married and moved out of Chennai. It is such a pleasure to meet you!”

“Hi Lakshmi! I am Nandini. Yeah, I remember Chandru mentioning  you. You should definitely come home some time”.

And they exchanged numbers, ignoring me completely. Amma, meanwhile had walked out and had recognized Lakshmi.

“How are you Lakshmi? Are these your children? So adorable!”

“My husband is in the electronics section and is probably looking for me. Nandini, Aunty, I am really happy to have met you all after such a long time. You too Chandru! We should all meet up again. Nandini, I will call you soon. I have a lot of stories about Chandru” she winked at Nandini and left.

“You too Chandru” she had said. That’s it? You too? Here I was, a modern day Devdas- ok, a married one – but my heart was still hers, or so I had thought! How can women be so cruel? How can they forget and move on so easily? For this heartless woman, I had sacrificed my entire life. Ok, maybe sacrifice is overstating it. But surely she could see the pain and love in my eyes!

Nandu had sensed something, but had the sense to not say anything. I went through the motions of paying for the clothes, unable to think. I don’t even remember having my favourite chaat – Samosa chana , at the neighbourhood chaat shop. I was dying inside – at least it felt like it. And if I had kulfi afterwards, it was only because Amma and Nandu needed company!

My heart was broken for the second time – it had broken every time one of my crushes had handed me their wedding invitations – but those were minor cracks, compared to what I was going through now.

“Chandru seems upset” I overheard Nandu telling Amma. “When do men ever grow up ma?”

What???

From the kitchen, Amma looked at my dad for a minute and said “Definitely not till they are 63 at least”.

“Ladies!! What are you two talking about?” I yelled. I couldn’t let them know I had been eavesdropping.

“Oh nothing. You watch Big Boss”, Amma said.

That night, when I entered our room, Nandu was in her usual pose – slouching on the sofa, with her feet on the bed and a book on her hand. She didn’t look up.

I sat on the bed, put her feet on my lap and started massaging them. Such soft feet!

Nandu was looking at me with a strange smile on her face, and her eyes full of mischief.

“Are you ok? Should I call for your mother? Ammaaaaa”

“Stop yelling! What are you doing? Can’t a husband massage his wife’s feet? I am just being nice” I said.

“So she’s the one then”, she said.

“Who’s the one? What one?” I said, trying to look innocent.

“You do realize that I am clever? Smarter than you, in fact?”.

“Oh, you mean Lakshmi? She is what?”

Nandu was still looking at me, that smile not changing at all.

“Nandu, can I ask you something?”

“Tell me my dear husband, whose heart can never be mine!”

“Suresh – isn’t he your sister’s brother-in-law?”

“Yeah, so what about him?”

“And Rohit is that guy from the TV show you liked when you were in school”

“Ok, right”

“Who are Vikram and Raghu?”, I said, not daring to look up.

Her laughter told me I wasn’t going to get an answer.

Women – those cruel and evil beings –  you can’t live with them or without them!

The Killer

"What? The noose? Why? What did I do?" asked Prabhu.

"Shhhh! Just do it", I said "and don't ask me foolish questions".

"Why? I am not your toy. You owe me an explanation."

"I owe you jackshit! Go on. The noose is waiting", I said impatiently.

"Come on, everything I did, I did because you asked me to".

"Oh! So suddenly you have no agency? You want a reason? Here's a reason - you are boring as hell!"

"And who made me boring? I was an interesting guy.. Remember my college days? Women used to flock around me"

"Well, I think you are boring now. You are a cliché now. Get it? A bore! You are a bore and your wife was a bore!", I said. 

"So that's why you killed her off? Hacked her to death, that too! Who would have thought you were capable of something so grisly?"

"And for the record, I enjoyed every moment of it. The blood, the gore, the whole process. You know how much I had to research for that one murder? Interesting stuff!", I said. 

"What changed you? You were one of the nice guys? You were a flowers and bouquets guy!"

"I am tired of flowers and bouquets. I am now a dagger and noose guy! Meet the new me !! Now go on, climb up the desk, put the noose around your neck and push the table away. Don't worry about it not moving, it is an old rickety one. One push and you will be done".

"What did I ever do to you? I did your bidding every single time! It was because of you that I chose a girl like Prema - made her fall head-over-heels in love with me and married her. And you introduced me to the other women, made me cheat on my wife and then in the end you made me kill her. What more do you want?"

"Did you know that even though you may become unconscious in a few seconds, dying may actually take longer? I intend to enjoy every second of it", I said. 

"Please... please .. you don't have to do this!" Prabhu cried.

"Oh yes, I do. I need to move on. Your suicide note is ready. And it has come out really well - if I may say so myself! You cannot live with yourself after murdering your wife brutally two days ago. So you decided to end it all. There is also a sappy love poem. Do you think I should leave it there or should I remove it?"

"My wife's murder? Why? You made me do that! You forced me to stab her."

"Dude, you are testing my patience. You don't have a way out. You don't get to choose. You will die now. Remember how Prema begged you the other day? First she begged you and then she begged me. I realized then that I enjoying killing, more than anything else. Come on Prabhu, it's not you, it's me. Lets get it done with. I am hungry. I haven't showered in two days. I need to end this and then eat.", I said a little testily.

"I am talking about life and you are talking about eating." he said.

"Come one now. Enough of talking. Just do it.", I said.

Prabhu walked slowly to the desk and looked at me with tears in his eyes. Seeing that I was in no mood to change my mind, he climbed on to the desk and put the noose around his neck and pushed.

After five minutes, I opened the door and stepped out.

Next to Nandini sat one of her friends from college looking like a deer caught in headlights. She looked at me with something like fear in her eyes. She quickly muttered something to Nandini and by the time I looked up from the fridge, she was gone.

"What's that on your t-shirt? Stop, don't come close", yelled Nandini. "You stink to high heaven. How long has it been since you last showered".

"I am hungry honey! I just murdered a couple", I said.

"Shower first", Nandini said, without batting an eyelid. "What do you mean, you killed a couple? You said it was going to be only Prema - you killed Prabhu too?"

"Yeah. I had to. I had to end it all", I said. I was tired.

"I thought you were a flowers and bouquets guy" she said.

"I am now a serial killer guy. Honey I missed you so much" I said.

"Go and take a shower, while I heat up something for you to eat."

"I miss you. Why don't you join me?" I said with a wink.

"God! Murder makes you weirder than usual! Go on, quick!"

As I walked towards the bathroom, she yelled after me "And next time, can you carry on your conversations with your characters in your head and not aloud? You gave Sriya a fright. She thought you were crazy".

"I can't Nandu. You know me. My characters speak to me" I yelled from the bathroom.

"But you don't have to answer!" she said.

"Well you did choose a writer for a husband" I said, "Now you have to live with it!"