It’s Madras Love, My Dear Wife

I chanced a look at Hannah K Lucy also (secretly) known as Kavya. My beautiful wife. I was packing up my clothes into the big travel bag. She was doing the same with hers. There was one difference between us though. I was trying hard and failing to contain my excitement and happiness, while she was making sure that I understand her bitterness and acrimony, in every single movement she made. We were bustling about the room this way for about forty minutes, pretending that the other did not exist. 45th minute, I had had enough of it. “Kavya!”  I started in a reasoning tone. “It’s Hannah!”Was her less than courteous reply. Sighing I made up my side of the bed and started arranging the pillows in the middle. She didn’t bother to make up her side, and just flopped on to the bed. The pillows have been sleeping with us, since all of this started. I closed my eyes, my mind conjuring up the images of the counseling session we had last month. It was during the 3rd year of our marriage that we thought something was missing in our life. I suggested kids and she gave me a look like I asked her to eat leeches. I was one of those men in Armani, who predicted the bloom and doom of Wall Street, We were modern psychics...

Read More