WAS rather perplexed to read this morning that more old couples were filing for divorce than ever before, “But why would people in their old age move to end decades of togetherness?” I wondered and walked to the park for my daily rounds.
I think my old friend Kumar had also read the article, because there he was walking ever so slowly with his wife and was actually holding her hand! Now there’s something about Kumar I must tell you; Kumar we’d presumed for a long time was a bachelor, he was in his seventies but had the energy of a teenager, sprightly and walked with a zing in his step, but what we all noticed was his glad eye for anything that wore a skirt.
Kumar at his age still appreciated a good looking sixteen- year old or a sixty year old and walked most of his rounds with one or other of such beauties who graced our morning walk.
But today he walked with his wife, rather slowly at that, “I guess she’s a slow walker,” ginned Kapoor to me, “Though I can’t figure out why he’s brought her along!” “She must have heard of his lady friends!” said another and we all agreed this could be the only reason for the wife’s sudden guest appearance. “Hi Kumar!” we yelled out grinning mischievously at each other.
“Kumar had a stroke last week and doctor’s told me to make him walk everyday!” said his wife to our rather shocked group, as she held Kumar’s hand and propelled him forward roughly before we could gather round him. “You want us to hold him while you take some rest?” Kapoor asked and was startled to find Kumar being pushed into his arms as Kumar’s wife went and settled herself down on the garden bench.
“I know about Kumar and his eye for pretty women,” said Mrs Kumar to me as her husband disappeared round the bend with helpful Mr Kapoor. “Ah!” I said, “You know is it?” “I’ve been tolerating it for years!” “You have?” I asked for nothing better to say.
“Yes, and I’ve led my own life with my temple and yoga and social work while I knew what he’s been up to, but it didn’t really matter after some time because I was so involved with my…” “Temple and yoga and social work,” I completed for her. “But…” she said looking at the retreating form of her paralyzed husband. “But what?” I asked rather quickly.
“I’ll be damned if I’m going to take care of a man who never took care of my emotional needs all these years! It’s a fast divorce and out!” I quickly went home and saw the wife hadn’t left, “You’re back early?” she asked, “Anything the matter?” “Thought I’d make breakfast for you!” I said. “What!” she yelled, “You okay Bob? You’re not well or something?” “Not yet!” I whispered, “Not yet..!” as I scrambled an egg for her, then went with much gusto at a good cup of coffee.
—Email: bobsbanter@gmail.com
