Relationships: Sweet N Sour

Part 1​

As I returned home after a hectic day at the office, I heard Amma and Meethi’s voices across our apartment corridor. A big fight had erupted at home; in their excitement, they had even forgotten to close the main door! As I rushed towards my apartment, many of my neighbours who had come out of their apartments for their share of free entertainment hurried indoors. With my head hung in shame, I entered the house and shut the door firmly behind me. It looked as though the fight was on for a while.


Assuming an aggressive posture, Amma screamed, “He is our family’s heir; everything has to be done as I say.”


“I am the daughter-in-law of this family, I too have my rights. I will do whatever I feel is right,” Meethi, my wife, replied adamantly.


“We have the first right to name him.”


“It is my privilege, I shall name according to my wish.”


“Ask your parents, they will tell you that it is the right of Vara.”


“Your daughter has given such ancient names to her children; I cannot let that villager name and spoil his entire future happiness,” Meethi retorted.


“How dare you to call our Varalakshmi, a villager? She is a post-graduate in Economics from Mysore University. She has always been a rank holder; you dare not doubt her intellectual credentials. You will never ever be able to attain her calibre.”


“Huh! I don’t even wish to be like her; it would be a nightmare!” Meethi reacted dramatically.


Amma’s stretched out point finger was vibrating at unimaginable speed and in response, Meethi’s neck moved sideways amazingly, a la Bharatanatyam style! I wondered at their flexibility, they reminded me of the famous wooden toys of Channapatna, near Mysore!


“What’s wrong with her? Your jealousy and insecurity make you blabber like this.”


“Jealous? No way. Don’t forget that I too am a post-graduate in Mass communication and had innumerable opportunities lined up! I made a big mistake by sacrificing that great job offer from Singapore. I sacrificed my job so that you could stay with your dear son; you don’t even realise or appreciate that.”


“You haven’t made any sacrifices. My son is earning well; you like to sit at home, gossip on the phone and while away your time. Your qualification is nothing compared to my daughter’s; you can never equal her in her wisdom or the cultural values.” Amma was vile like a typical filmy mother-in-law; this avatar of hers was new to me. I stared at her in astonishment.


“I don’t ever want to be like that out-dated villager,” Meethi expressed her contempt unabashedly.


Did she assume my stunned silence for support? I tried to object; somehow the words failed me.


“Stop calling her a villager again and again. Just because her in-laws are agriculturists, she won’t become a villager. And what..what’s wrong with her children’s names, Anantapadmanabha and Anantalakshmi? Taking their names is enough to get salvation,” Amma defended my sister, Vara.


“You are an old-timer; you had no ideas how a name could ruin one’s life and career. Look at your son’s name- V e e r a n a r a s i m h a! Haa......hah! One would have to spend an entire minute to say his name. Thank God! He introduces himself as Veer.”


My wife said with exaggerated dramatic gestures.


She was fuming and continued, “You should know that because of his ancient name I did not want to marry him. But my friends convinced me that he is known everywhere as ‘Veer’ which is modern, so I compromised and agreed to marry him,” Meethi replied angrily.


I wiped my sweat and wondered where their fight headed? I continued to gape at them not knowing which party needed my support. Both were equally important to me. Supporting one meant letting down the other. I could not even mediate as both of them were so aggressive that I feared that they wouldn’t hesitate to tear me apart. I thought it was in the best interest of all that I should shut up, find out the root cause and then slowly crawl in to mediate.


Now it was Amma’s turn to bowl a bodyline, “You are talking as if your name is very pretty. What kind of a name is Meethi (sweet)? I had rejected you upon hearing your name. If your dad had one more daughter, would he name her Khatti (sour)?” Amma smiled contemptuously as she successfully stumped Meethi.


I wondered what counter-argument Meethi would come up with! This match was turning exciting like the limited-over cricket match! In anticipation, I turned towards Meethi.


Instead of Meethi Amma spoke again but this time her angry words were directed towards me. “Your wife’s name is Meethi but her words are bitter like methi (Fenugreek), you better control her!” Even as I tried to grasp what she had said, Amma rushed to her room wiping her tears and blowing her nose.


Meethi’s face had turned red with anger, tears rolled down her eyes in a steady stream and she was breathing heavy. As she twisted the loose end of her dupatta dangerously, she looked accusingly at me, stomped her feet and dashed to lock herself in the bedroom. I was totally confused by the abstract nature of their verbal duel. I wondered as to how I should pacify these two women as no management degree or work experience helps here!

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End of part 1