It was early in the evening on a fine summer day. I was just lying in bed reading some blogs and passing some time when I was entrusted the job of going out and purchasing some vegetables for dinner by my mother. Since I am an extremely lazy person, usually I’d come up with an excuse or two to avoid going but a very important guest was coming to visit us and purchasing vegetables according to their taste was of utmost importance so I had to go.

Grudgingly, I got up, got ready, plugged in my earphones and went out with a jute bag in my hand. (Say no to plastic bags please) The scene at the market was typical of India. Autorickshaws blaring their horns, street hawkers shouting prices of the items they were peddling in the highest tone possible, people moving here and there in a haphazard manner, pickpockets looking for scapegoats like me.

As I was making my purchases, I noticed that a crowd had gathered nearby. Curious, I went over there and checked out the commotion. It looked like a couple was having a marital spat right in the middle of the street.

“I don’t want to go home with a cheap miser like you. You have so much money, add to that the copious amount you received in Dowry when you married me, yet you cannot buy me a car. You always make me sit on that cheap khataraΒ motorcycle of yours.” The wife shouted.

“Don’t make a scene here you foul wench. Give me the keys to the bike.” Said the husband.

“No. I don’t care what the public thinks. I’ll only come home with you if you buy a car right now and take me home in it.” The wife retorted.

Sensing that being angry probably isn’t the best approach here, the husband lovingly said, “Okay, okay, I’ll buy you a car my love, but please give me the key right now, let’s go home, plan this out and I’ll get you a nice car first thing in the morning tomorrow.”

“NO!” Came the cold words of the wife.

“Okay. Don’t give me the key, I’ll break the locks and go home without you.”

“Do whatever you want, you won’t get the keys from me and you won’t be seeing my face in the bed tonight.”

“I’m breaking the locks now, and don’t you dare come crying to me later.”

“I’d rather die than come crying to a cheapskate like you.”

After this exchange, the husband pleaded with the surrounding people to help him get the lock undone. When all was done (or rather, undone), he mounted the bike and said, “This is your last chance, come with me or I’ll go.”

The people in the crowd started advising the lady that she shouldn’t break her marriage at a trivial matter such as this. She seemed to understand and duly sat on the bike after getting a promise from the husband that he’ll soon buy a car and the couple went off.

After enjoying this free drama show, I went back to buying vegetables. After about half an hour later, while returning, I saw a commotion at the exact same place again.

Mr Sharma was frantically shouting, “OH MY GOD! Someone stole my bike in broad daylight again!”

Well, he didn’t come to our house for dinner that night either.

Disclaimer: This is just a work of fiction, how did I do? It’d be nice of you to leave your thoughts about this in the comments section below.

Much love,