An Ideal Wife (7 page)

‘On the contrary, she is the best among these,’ Sameer clarified.

‘I don’t get it.’

‘I want you to meet the others first and then see how she is different from them.’ Sameer pointed at the chosen girl.

Praise the Lord! He likes one of them at least!

6

God’s ordeal in
human avatar
(with no god powers)

I
(now in human form, with no godly powers) went to meet the chosen girls and their parents in different get-ups depending on the area they belonged to and the customs they followed.

I went in the guise of a barber,
pundit
(Hindu priest), marriage bureau broker, and even a cool dude visiting colleges, nightclubs and bars. It seemed everyone conspired against me as I got beaten up at a couple of places; at another place dogs were set after me and I even got molested by a few drunken girls.

As if things were not bad enough for me, one day I got caught red-handed while snorting cocaine at a rave party where I had gone to meet one of the seven matches. Police dragged me into the van and, to make matters worse, the media video graphed the entire fiasco. I couldn’t for the life of me understand why I was being dragged and where they were taking me. I kept questioning and arguing with the constable and ended up getting a few tight slaps on my face. I was getting angry but couldn’t do anything as I, without god powers, was just like any other common man.

Enroute the police station I kept looking at all girls, who were also arrested with me, thinking if one of them could be the prospective bride for Sameer. The girls, however, misunderstood me for some kind of ogling pervert and punched my face nice and good. At one point I even felt a stiletto heel go right up my nostril…the audacity!! I am a god for GOD’s sake! Is this any way to treat a divine being?

At the police station, I tried very hard to convince the Inspector that I was a god but he just laughed right in my face.

‘Why don’t you listen to me?’ I finally lost my cool with the Inspector.

The Inspector suddenly transformed into an evil Southie film villain.

‘How many times will you tell me that you are a god and are looking for a bride for your follower?’ he asked menacingly.

‘Please let me go,’ I pleaded innocently.

He came near me and looked into my eyes.

‘On one condition.’

‘Anything for you,’ I got really excited thinking about my release.

‘Anything?’

‘Yes, anything,’ I replied desperately but also kept my fingers crossed as my earlier promise to Sameer had already boomeranged on me.

The Inspector took out his wallet and opened it.

‘Can you see this?’ he pointed at a woman’s picture inside. I nodded in the affirmative.

‘If you can make her disappear from my life then I will let you go,’ he said, his expression one of malicious glee. He really must hate this woman.

‘Who’s she?’ I asked very innocently.

‘My wife, you idiot!’

I was aghast, but tickled to the bone. ‘If you dislike her so much then why do you keep her photograph in your wallet?’ I asked amusedly.

‘Are you married?’ the Inspector counter-questioned.

‘Not yet.’

‘Then you won’t understand,’ he replied with a hopeless shake of his head.

I kept looking at him.

‘Don’t just keep looking at me, just answer me. Can you make her disappear?-’

‘This is Yamraj’s work.’

‘You want to leave this place or not?’

Ooh boy! This mortal was threatening a god! This woman must be driving him absolutely bonkers. But I was a little shaken at this. This is not what I’d signed up for! I was supposed to find the ideal wife for Sameer, not knock out un-ideal wives of villainous looking inspectors.

‘I mean I can’t interfere with Yamraj’s work. This is against our rules,’ I clarified after regaining my composure.

‘Rules hmm? Okay, then why don’t you make yourself disappear? It will make my life easier. One less report to file.’

‘I wish I could do that but I have got a punishment.’ Helplessness was more than evident from my voice.

The Inspector started laughing.

‘Punishment
aur tumhe?
Who gave you the punishment?’

‘Bhagwaan Dada.’

‘As if you alone weren’t enough for me, who is this Bhagwaan Dada now?
Tere upar ke area ka don hai kya? Kahan hai?’
His eyes wandered around like a child but couldn’t find anyone so he angrily looked back at me.

‘He is in heaven,’ I clarified immediately.

‘Then why don’t you go there as well?’

‘Can’t go.’

‘Then go to the hell, oh I mean the jail,’ infuriated, the Inspector dragged me to the lock-up along with some other criminals.

The criminals were amused to see me, a dwarf, joining them in lock-up. One of the criminals, who had heard everything, decided to take a dig at me.

‘Have you ever seen such a small god?’

All the criminals started laughing. Fed up with my inability to convince the Inspector, I decided to reply sternly.

‘Is it my fault?’

Seeing me a little angry they stopped laughing for some time, but only until another criminal took a shot at me.

‘Arre isko to gussa bhi aata hai,’
and once again there was laughter in the jail.

I looked at him angrily; Amitabh Bachchan in
Zanjeer
didn’t look as angry as I was.

‘Na munna na, gussa sehat ke liye accha nahin’
another criminal spoke, chucking my chin with his hand.

Realising these criminals won’t stop teasing me, I distanced myself from them and went to a corner of the jail, all
Bachchangiri
fizzling out. But one of them followed me and sat next to me, touching shoulder to shoulder. I quietly shifted to my right but he followed me. I kept shifting myself, as the criminal kept following me, till I reached the farthest corner. I was getting extremely angry but as usual wasn’t able to do anything without my god powers.

Another criminal who was just watching everything till then decided to jump in the teasing bandwagon and sniffed my mouth.

‘How much did you take?’ he spoke raising both his eyebrows.

‘I took it by mistake,’ I explained.

‘Whenever I get caught I say the same’

‘I am not a regular cocaine snorter like you who beats his wife every day,’ I replied sternly.

The criminal was amazed to hear this from me, as no one in the jail knew that he was a married man. He looked back and realised all the others were looking at him with big question marks on their faces.

‘Are you married?’ asked one of the puzzled listeners.

‘Look who’s talking? The one who killed his wife and buried her near the beach,’ I intervened before the other criminal could answer his jail mate.

The criminal was astonished to hear his secret brandished out in the open. I went on an overdrive and started spilling the secrets of all the others too. The result was a collective thrashing by the upset inmates.

‘We are here because of you, you made us like that,’ a criminal ranted while kicking me.

‘If you wanted you could have saved us and given us a decent life like you gave others,’ another criminal landed a punch on my face.

I started crying for help but the Inspector wanted to teach me a lesson without realising that I was really a god.

‘Accha hai, pito saale ko, sab uttar jayegi
and tell him to call Bhagwaan Dada to save him.’

The hardened criminals were playing with me like a football but I was helpless without my powers. I got even more pissed with myself the moment I remembered that Bhagwaan Dada had told me to use the power of knowing people’s past very judiciously.

Next morning, while making an internal presentation in his office, Sameer wasn’t feeling very comfortable as he sensed that something had gone wrong with me. He imagined that I was crying and asking for his help, so he stopped making the presentation and looked around but couldn’t find anything.

After a brief pause, Sameer continued with his presentation but then again a few seconds later he heard my cries.

‘Did you guys hear something?’ Sameer asked his colleagues.

‘What?’

‘Nothing.’

Sameer once again looked around only to find that his colleagues looking at him. He shook his head in disbelief and continued with the presentation but after couple of minutes he heard the cries once again.

‘See, that’s what I was talking about,’ Sameer spoke with more authority.

‘What?’ Fatty raised his voice, getting frustrated with the frequent stops.

‘Why can’t you guys hear these cries?’ Sameer counter-questioned.

No one replied fearing Fatty’s wrath, as with each passing minute Fatty was getting more infuriated. They also knew that the client was about to come in half an hour to watch the same presentation.

Realising the gravity of the situation, Sameer lingered on with the presentation but my cries kept ringing in his ears. He tried to block the ears with his hands (just like one of Gandhi’s monkeys), but that too didn’t help.

‘Sameer, are you okay?’ Jimmy tried to handle the situation.

‘Why aren’t you guys hearing anything?’ Sameer lamented.

‘Because there is nothing,’ Fatty replied angrily.

Sameer was still feeling uneasy so his eyes started wandering outside the conference room through the glass panes. Not sure why but his eyes stopped at the news programme on the TV placed at the reception area. It showed footage of people arrested last night from the rave party in a famous Bandra club.

Sameer was stunned to see that I was being thrown into the police van. He quickly came out of the conference room and ran towards the TV. Everyone else (except the boss) followed him, out of concern for Sameer.

In a couple of minutes, Sameer came running back to the conference room and picked up his coat to leave the office.

‘Where are you going?’ Fatty finally lost his patience.

‘I need to go, my friend is in big trouble,’ Sameer replied in haste.

‘Have you gone mad? The client is about to come and I don’t have to emphasise the importance of this client to the company!’

‘Do you see anything beyond this company? My friend needs me and I have to go.’

Sameer’s response jolted Fatty and more so when he realized the presence of many others.

‘I don’t mean to disrespect you sir, but there are a few things in my life which are way beyond this company. I think Jimmy can make this presentation,’ Sameer tried to minimise the impact of his outburst.

‘In that case, I think Jimmy should be the creative head not you,’ Fatty showed his power.

‘That’s up to you, sir. I know I am needed somewhere else this minute.’

Sameer stormed out without waiting for Fatty’s reply, leaving behind a room full of flummoxed faces.

Sameer’s barging entry into the Bandra Police Station raised an alarm among all the policemen who were still reeling under the shock of losing colleagues in a freak shootout the previous month at Oshiwara Police Station by a mad man. They immediately took out their weapons and surrounded Sameer from all sides.

‘Don’t shoot me, don’t shoot me!’ Sameer shouted at the top of his lungs seeing more than a dozen guns were ready to fire at him.