This here is inspired by Y's post of 7th December on her blog.
This blog seems to have become more about der Debs than about Aditya. But it matters not, does it? For my part, whatever I do or think or say still includes him, as though he were still here, with me. And he is. Still here with me, i.e., perversely perhaps, but strangely, closer to me than he ever was when he was alive.
For those that have not read that post, it was about Y's family indicating to her that the sarcastic add-ons to most of her coversation were well left out.
Be that as it may, there are those of us that will think half our convversation and speak the other half.
Take this, for instance:
Arup (crouched on all fours behind the TV, which has not been working): Hmmm. This connection needs to be tightened.
Lalita (sitting in front of said TV, waiting to see if image comes back on): Hmmmm, ...
A whole minute passes by.
Arup (sounding rather annoyed): Koi! Where's the screw driver!
L, jumping up: Oh! You didn't ask for it. Here. Here it is.
A: Of course I did! I said this needs tightening. Pass me the screw driver.
To be fair to the man, he truly thought he had but - believe you me, he did NOT vocalize that second sentence!
Then there are the times when he borrows something or takes it to get some work done, and then 'returns' it. I'm still getting over the trauma of having 'lost' my D.I.R.E., or Residence Permit. I'd given it to my Mia to go and encash a cheque that was in my name. Then we travelled to Maputo, and I realized to my horror that I was not carrying it. In this country, you can be jailed for failing to produce it on demand by the police. Fortunately, they rarely ask for it if you're driving on a Mozambican number plate.
I remind my Mia that he had taken it to the bank.
"But I returned it to you!" says he.
This has happened before, so I'm able to remain calm.
"So where did you put it?" asks I
"On your table!?" he says, matter-of-factly.
"But you said you'd returned it?"
"Yes!?" even more matter-of-factly.
Well, the happy part of it is that after 3 weeks of looking high and low (the house got tidied up in the process!) I found my D.I.R.E. but tell me, dear friends! Which equation sounds more common? Sensible?
Returning = leaving wordlessly on table, me there to see or not?
or
Returning = Vocalizing: Here's your D.I.R.E. I'm putting the money in the safe?
I suspect a lot of wives have had this kind of an experience. Come on, tell us, do!
And where did I find my D.I.R.E.?
On HIS table!
God, I love this man!
This blog seems to have become more about der Debs than about Aditya. But it matters not, does it? For my part, whatever I do or think or say still includes him, as though he were still here, with me. And he is. Still here with me, i.e., perversely perhaps, but strangely, closer to me than he ever was when he was alive.
For those that have not read that post, it was about Y's family indicating to her that the sarcastic add-ons to most of her coversation were well left out.
Be that as it may, there are those of us that will think half our convversation and speak the other half.
Take this, for instance:
Arup (crouched on all fours behind the TV, which has not been working): Hmmm. This connection needs to be tightened.
Lalita (sitting in front of said TV, waiting to see if image comes back on): Hmmmm, ...
A whole minute passes by.
Arup (sounding rather annoyed): Koi! Where's the screw driver!
L, jumping up: Oh! You didn't ask for it. Here. Here it is.
A: Of course I did! I said this needs tightening. Pass me the screw driver.
To be fair to the man, he truly thought he had but - believe you me, he did NOT vocalize that second sentence!
Then there are the times when he borrows something or takes it to get some work done, and then 'returns' it. I'm still getting over the trauma of having 'lost' my D.I.R.E., or Residence Permit. I'd given it to my Mia to go and encash a cheque that was in my name. Then we travelled to Maputo, and I realized to my horror that I was not carrying it. In this country, you can be jailed for failing to produce it on demand by the police. Fortunately, they rarely ask for it if you're driving on a Mozambican number plate.
I remind my Mia that he had taken it to the bank.
"But I returned it to you!" says he.
This has happened before, so I'm able to remain calm.
"So where did you put it?" asks I
"On your table!?" he says, matter-of-factly.
"But you said you'd returned it?"
"Yes!?" even more matter-of-factly.
Well, the happy part of it is that after 3 weeks of looking high and low (the house got tidied up in the process!) I found my D.I.R.E. but tell me, dear friends! Which equation sounds more common? Sensible?
Returning = leaving wordlessly on table, me there to see or not?
or
Returning = Vocalizing: Here's your D.I.R.E. I'm putting the money in the safe?
I suspect a lot of wives have had this kind of an experience. Come on, tell us, do!
And where did I find my D.I.R.E.?
On HIS table!
God, I love this man!
