Archive for the ‘romance’ Category

The Girl in the Library

November 19, 2016

LIBRARY GIRL 

Link to my original post in my Blog Academic and Creative Writing Journal Vikram Karve: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2016/11/library-girl-story-of-girl-who-liked.html

Story of a Girl Who Liked Books 

A Romance By VIKRAM KARVE 

Part 1 

At a Library in Pune

“Excuse me – are you returning that book…?” a feminine voice said in my left ear.

I was standing in front of the library counter.

I looked towards my left.

She was a good looking girl – of my age.

The girl was pointing to a book I had kept on the counter – an ‘Anthology of Short Stories’ – a newly arrived book in the Library.

“No. I am not returning the book. In fact – I am borrowing this book for reading…” I said.

“Oh – I thought you are returning that book – I have been desperately wanting to read it ever since I saw the cover on the “new arrivals” notice board…” she said.

“I too want to read this book. You can borrow it from the library when I return it…” I said.

If the girl thought that she could charm me into giving her the book – she was mistaken.

I will never “sacrifice” a good book – even for the most beautiful girl.

The librarian across the counter asked for my library card – stamped the return date on the book – and gave the book to me.

The ‘good looking girl’ was still standing beside me.

“May I see the book…? the girl asked.

I gave the book to the girl.

She looked at the cover – browsed through the book – and she gave it back to me.

“I really want to read this book. When will you be returning it…?” she asked me.

“Next Sunday. I will return the book next Sunday…” I said.

“You come to the library every Sunday…?”

“Yes. I come to library on Sundays…” I said.

“I come to the library every day. I study in the college down the road and live in the girl’s hostel next door…” she said.

“Well – I live in the Engineering College hostel…” I said.

“Oh – that’s quite far away…”

“Yes. That is why I can come on only Sundays…”

“Oh – I am lucky I live in the hostel nearby. I come to the library every evening after classes – and – nowadays – sometimes – I come on Sunday mornings too…”

“What are you doing – BA – B.Sc. – or…?”

“Of course I am doing my BA in Literature – I told you that I love reading…” she said.

“Well – I am not as lucky as you are – I too love literature – but – I am stuck with boring ‘Engineering’…” I said.

As I smiled a ‘goodbye’ to her and started walking towards the exit – she said to me: “Don’t forget to bring the book next Sunday. And – make sure you give it to me. I will be waiting here in the library from 10 o’clock onwards…”

When I went back to the hostel and started reading the book – I thought of the girl I had met in the library – and – in my mind’s eye – I nicknamed her ‘Library Girl’.

Next Sunday – I reached the library at 10:30 in the morning – and – I found the good looking ‘Library Girl’ waiting for me in eager anticipation – well – she was waiting eagerly for the book – not me…”

From then on – the ‘Library Girl’ and I met every Sunday – in the Library – mostly in the ‘Fiction’ section – especially searching for Short Story Books on the “Short Fiction” Book-Racks.

I discovered that – our reading interests were similar – like me – ‘Library Girl’ too loved reading ‘Short Stories’ – and – we often discussed the short stories we had read – and we recommended books to each other.

I looked forward to meeting ‘Library Girl’ every Sunday.

I enjoyed being with her – as we browsed the library bookshelves together – and talked about books and our favourite short stories.

Believe it or not – but – we did not take our relationship to the ‘next level’.

I was a “shy type”.

And – maybe – she was the “shy type” too.

Ours was a unique friendship – an exquisite ethereal relationship – a platonic love so delicate – that one wrong move might destroy everything.

So – we both probably wanted to keep it this way – and – our beautiful Sunday morning ‘bookish’ relationship went on for a long time.

Days passed – months – years – and – one Sunday – after our morning ‘Library Time’ – as I said ‘goodbye’ to ‘Library Girl’ – she said to me: “Wait – I want you to meet ‘someone’…”

“It’s already 1:15 – our mess closes at 2 – and it will take me at least half an hour to cycle down to my hostel…” I said.

“Please wait. I will treat you to lunch. I want you to meet someone…” she insisted.

So – I waited – I sat down next to her in the reading room browsing through a literary magazine.

I could see that ‘Library Girl’ was eagerly looking at the entrance – waiting for her ‘someone’ to arrive.

Suddenly – she nudged me.

I looked up – and – I could see that ‘Library Girl’ was smiling at her ‘someone’ who was standing at the entrance.

We walked to the foyer of the library.

‘Library Girl’ introduced her ‘someone’ to me.

“He is my fiancé…” she said to me.

Then – ‘Library Girl’ introduced me to her fiancé .

“He is my ‘Library Boyfriend’ – the one I told you all about…” she said to her fiancé.

Her fiancé treated us to lunch in a classy restaurant – after all – he was a rich businessman – a smart guy from New Delhi.

Notwithstanding her ‘engagement’ – my Sunday morning friendship with ‘Library Girl’ continued.

But – soon – her BA course was over – and – we met for the last time in the library.

“My course is over – I am winding up my things here and I will be going home tomorrow…” ‘Library Girl’ said.

For her – ‘home’ was Bangalore – where her Army Officer father was posted then.

“Why don’t you do your MA in Literature here in Pune..?” I said to ‘Library Girl’.

“No chance of further studies for me,” she said, “my wedding is fixed next month. They were just waiting for me to complete my BA. And frankly – I am not really interested in studies – I just want to read plenty of books.”

“You will be living in Delhi after marriage..?” I asked her.

“Yes.”

“You are very lucky.”

“Why?”

“Delhi is the best place for book lovers.”

“Really…?”

“Yes – there are so many excellent libraries – and wonderful bookstores where you can browse – and – every year – in winter – there is a magnificent Book Fair at Pragati Maidan…” I said to her.

“Wow – it’s going to be so exciting – I am really going to read books to my heart’s content,” she said, “I am already feeling like going to Delhi…”

“Yes. Delhi is a Book Lover’s Paradise. You are so lucky…” I said.

“And you…? What are your plans…?” she asked me.

“Well – I have got one year to go to finish my Engineering – then – maybe I will take up some job in the industry – let’s see…” I said.

Then – we said our last ‘goodbye’.

I did not ask for her address – and – neither did she ask my address.

Why ask for the address of a destination where it is not desirable for you to go…?

We knew that our platonic friendship was destined to be a transient relationship – like passing ships – and – we ourselves had intentionally kept it that way.

So – we said our last ‘goodbye’ – and – ‘Library Girl’ and I – we parted company.

3 YEARS LATER 

Part 2 

At the same Library in Pune

Three years later – I saw ‘Library Girl’ in the Library.

She was browsing books in the ‘Fiction’ section.

‘Library Girl’ saw me too.

She smiled at me.

I smiled back at her – and – I walked towards her.

“What a pleasant surprise…” I said to her.

“Yes – I am so happy to see you too. So I can see that you have continued your ‘Sunday Morning Date’ with the Library…” she said.

“Yes – I still come here every Sunday morning…” I said.

“You work now…?”

“Yes – in a factory.”

“That’s great…” she said.

“And you – what brings you to Pune…? I asked her.

“My Dad retired from the Army last month – and my parents have settled down in Pune…” she said.

“Oh – so you have come on a holiday…?” I said.

“No – I have come to Pune permanently…” she said.

“Permanently…?”

“Yes – I have come to Pune permanently.”

“What happened…? Don’t tell me that your husband has relocated to Pune…?” I said.

“No – he hasn’t relocated here – I have left my husband – I going to divorce him…” she said.

I was taken aback – and involuntarily – I uttered: “Oh…”

For some time – I was confused as to what I should say to her.

Then – I said to her: “I am very sorry…”

“It’s okay…” she said.

We looked at each other in silence – I did not know what to say.

After some moments of silence – ‘Library Girl’ looked at me and she said: “Do you know the reason why I am divorcing my husband…?”

“Why?”

“Books…!”

“Books…?”

“My husband – and his folks – especially my ‘mother-in-law’ – they did not like my ‘reading habit’…”

“What do you mean…? How can anyone not like someone else reading…? It is such a harmless and quiet activity.”

“It was a joint family – lot of socializing – plenty of relatives and guests visiting all the time – and – my mother-in-law always wanted me hanging around – especially – if someone came over to visit – and people were always coming over to visit us throughout the day…”

“So…?”

“So – whenever I went to my room to read a book – my mother-in-law would keep disturbing me and calling me out – even when there were no visitors – she wanted me to sit with her and watch soaps on TV…”

“You could have read books at night…”

“Ha Ha – at night – well my husband certainly wasn’t interested in reading books with me in bed…”

“I am sorry – I didn’t mean…”

“The fact is that no one in that house was interested in reading. You told me about libraries – browsing in bookstores – visiting book fairs – that Delhi was a paradise for book lovers. But – whenever I tried to go – they would put some obstacle – some social commitment would always pop up – either someone was visiting us – or – we were visiting someone – or going for some ‘event’…”

“But – you could have mutually adjusted – talked to your husband. Why the extreme step of divorce…?

“I did not like them ridiculing my reading habit all the time – I told my husband – “you can criticize me – but don’t ridicule reading – and – don’t denigrate books and literature…” – but he did not listen – no one showed me any consideration – and they – my ‘in-laws’ and all their relatives – they kept mocking me for my interest in reading books – it was very humiliating…”

“Oh…”

“One evening I had gone for a book launch to a famous bookstore – the book was an anthology of short fiction – and while an author was reading out her story from the book – my husband barged in – and – he literally dragged me out saying that his business partners had suddenly decided to come home for dinner and I was required to be present at home immediately to ‘host’ them…”

“Really…”

“Something snapped inside me – and – I decided – ‘enough is enough’ – and – I left my husband’s home the very next morning – and – I haven’t gone back since…”

“I am very sorry to hear all this…” I commiserated with her.

“Hey – I am okay – there – in my husband’s home – I was feeling ‘suffocated’ – now I am feeling much better after I escaped from that stifling atmosphere…” she said.

“That’s good – so we will see you in the library every Sunday…” I said to her.

“Of course – in fact – I have decided to do my MA in Literature at the college nearby – so I will be here in the library more often…” she said.

“Wow – that’s great…”

‘Library Girl’ looked at me – and – she said to me: “Hey – I kept talking about myself all the time. What about you…?”

“I told you I work in a factory – in the auto sector…”

“Are you still a bachelor – or have you got married…?”

“I got married – 6 months ago…” I said.

“Oh – Congrats – so where is your wife – haven’t you brought her to the library…?” she asked.

I looked at ‘Library Girl’ – and – I said to her: “My wife hates books…”

VIKRAM KARVE

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Disclaimer:

This story is a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the story are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

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No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.

Copyright © Vikram Karve (All Rights Reserved) 

Link to my original post in my Blog Academic and Creative Writing Journal Vikram Karve: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2016/11/library-girl-story-of-girl-who-liked.html

© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

This blog post is a revised repost of my story MY LIBRARY GIRLFRIEND posted online by me on April 28, 2016 in my Academic and Creative Writing Journal Blog at url: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2016/04/my-library-girlfriend-library-girl.html and  https://karvediat.blogspot.in/2016/07/library-girl-romance.html 

Travel Romance – A Love Story on the Deccan Queen

September 13, 2016

ROMANCE ON THE DECCAN QUEEN

Short Fiction  – A Love Story By VIKRAM KARVE 

Link to my original post in my Blog Academic and Creative Writing Journal Vikram Karve: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2016/09/romance-on-deccan-queen-love-story.html

From my Creative Writing Archives:

Here is one of my early pieces of short fiction – a love story – abridged and revised.

I wrote this story around 12 years ago when I used to travel often from Mumbai to Pune by the Deccan Queen.

Do tell me if you like this romance story narrated by a small girl – just 12 years old…

ROMANCE ON THE DECCAN QUEEN – A Love Story By VIKRAM KARVE

Have you ever seen a handsome strapping young man reading a Mills & Boon Romance…?

And that too so blatantly in front of so many people in a crowded railway compartment?

I did.

On the Deccan Queen.

Yes, on the Deccan Queen – my favourite train that takes you from Mumbai to Pune every evening.

And back from Pune to Mumbai in the morning.

Let me tell you about it.

But first I will tell you about myself.

My name is Priya.

I am 12 years old and I am a pretty girl.

I love train journeys and I have travelled a lot, especially on the Mumbai Pune route.

But this was the first time I was travelling alone.

So my loving father was very very anxious and worried.

My father was anxious because he dotes on me – since I am the only thing he has in this world.

My father had come to see me off at Mumbai’s magnificent CST Railway Terminus.

He seemed uneasy and kept on saying the same things again and again, “Priya, take care. Don’t get down at any station. It’s only a three-hour journey. She will come to pick you up at Pune. I have told her your coach and seat number. And I have told this uncle here to look after you.”

‘Uncle’ was a young man of about twenty-five on the seat next to mine.

He was very handsome, well-groomed, smartly dressed in a light blue T-shirt and trendy Jeans. 25…?

Maybe slightly older – but certainly not 30…!

He had a smart elegant beard.

It was a proper well-kept full-grown beard, not the repulsive dirty-looking horrible two-day designer stubble young men sport nowadays.

These young lotharios think that the filthy hideous stubble on their face looks fashionable.

But let me tell you it looks sick and makes me feel like puking.

But this guy had a gorgeous beard – it suited his face perfectly and made him look very handsome and manly.

“Don’t you worry, sir,” the young man said to my father, “she will be delivered safe and sound.”

The young man gave me a friendly smile.

I liked him and felt happy to have him as a companion.

And of course, I had the window seat in case he turned out to be a bore.

Now my father was talking to the train-conductor, probably telling him the same things to look after me and all that.

I felt embarrassed but I did not say anything for I knew my father loved me very much and genuinely cared for me.

After all, as I told you, we have no one else in this world except each other – I have him – and he has me.

I felt worried about my father too.

That’s why when he kissed me on the cheek just before the train started, I whispered in his ear, “Papa, don’t drink too much.”

I knew how much he hated to be lonely.

And now I wouldn’t be there to look after him, to take care of him, to mother him!

The train moved.

I looked at my watch.

Ten minutes past five.

Right on the dot.

Soon the mighty Deccan Queen was speeding towards Pune.

We would be there by dinner-time.

I looked at ‘uncle’ – just a sideways glance.

But he did not notice me as he had already buried himself in the pages of the Mumbai Mid-Day newspaper.

I took out my iPod from my bag, adjusted the earphones in my ears and looked at him again.

He was still buried in his newspaper, totally oblivious of the world around him.

I pressed my earphones tighter and tried to hear the music from my iPod, pretended to ignore him, made pretence of trying to look out of the tinted-glass window of the air-conditioned chair car.

But my eyes kept wandering, trying to steal a glance at him when I thought he would not notice, but secretly hoping he would notice me and say something, talk to me.

But he remained glued to his newspaper as if I just did not exist!

How mean and snobbish?

It seemed he had no manners!

I hated him and decided to ignore him.

After some time the young man next to me folded his newspaper and kept it in the rack in front of him.

Then he pulled out his bag from below his seat, opened the zip, took out a book from his bag and kept it on his knees in front of him.

It was a ‘Mills & Boon’ romance!

I smiled to myself.

This young man seemed to be quite an interesting character.

Young men in their twenties don’t read Mills & Boon.

Or do they?

You tell me.

Anyway, he opened the Mills & Boon and started reading intently.

I know it is bad manners to disturb someone who is reading, but I was so curious to know more about him that I just could not resist.

I shut the iPod, pulled earphones out of my ears, and said, “Hello, uncle. I’m Priya.”

“Oh yes! I know. Priya. Age 12.”

“How…?” I asked surprised.

“I read the reservation chart,” he said.

“No. No. Papa must have told you my name,” I said.

“Yes, he did tell me your name, but he did not tell me your age, young lady,” he smiled mischievously, and said, “Whenever I begin a train journey I always find out who my fellow-passengers are.”

“Are you a detective or something?”

“No, No!” he said smiling, “I’m a Shippie. A Chief Officer in the Merchant Navy.”

He held out his hand, “Girish Joshi. And don’t call me uncle. Call me Girish – just Girish.”

We shook hands.

His grip was firm and strong.

Robust.

Reassuring.

Redoubtable.

Just like he looked.

The Mills & Boon paperback fell off.

He picked it up and put it back on his knees.

It really seemed funny – a solid macho man like him reading a mushy Mills and Boon romance.

“You been to Pune before?” he asked me.

“Oh yes,” I said. “We lived in Pune before we came to Mumbai.”

“Then you can help me out,” he said. “Do you know a place called Vaishali? It is a famous restaurant, I think.”

“You don’t know Vaishali?” I asked surprised.

“No,” he said. “It’s the first time I’m going to Pune. But she told me it was a famous place and I would find it easily. That’s what she told me!”

“She?”

“The person I have an appointment with. 10 o’clock tomorrow morning. She promised she would be there.”

“At Vaishali?”

“Yes,” he said. “She told me that the Dosa at Vaishali is even better than the one at Shompen.”

“Shompen?”

“It’s the best restaurant in Port Blair. That’s where we met for the first time.”

“Port Blair! That’s where you met her, is it?” I asked.

This was getting very interesting.

“Yes. Last Year. We were sailing from Singapore to Mumbai and docked en-route at Port Blair for some emergency repairs. It was just a short stay of four days.”

I love to talk to someone who loves to talk.

And this was like a fairy tale.

It was getting exciting and I wanted to ask him so many things.

Who was she?

What was her name?

Was it love at first sight?

What happened?

About the Mills & Boon on his lap?

But before I could speak, he suddenly said,” Hey! Why am I telling you all this? It’s supposed to be secret.”

“It’s okay,” I said, “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Now you tell me about yourself, Priya. Why are you going to Pune?” he asked.

“To see my new mother,” I blurted out, without thinking.

And then like a stupid fool I told him everything.

I knew I was making a mistake – but he was so easy to talk to that my words just came tumbling out – I told him about my mother’s sudden death – my father sinking into depression –his drinking problem – everyone advising him to remarry – his refusal – just for my sake – and then this marriage proposal comes along and my father insists that I see my would-be stepmother first – and he will get married to her only if we two like each other.

Everything – I told him everything – and it made me feel good.

“You mean your father hasn’t even met her?” Girish asked.

“No. He hasn’t – we haven’t even seen her. Papa has only spoken to her on the phone. Some relatives and friends of Papa are arranging the whole thing,” I said. “Papa is worried about me. He loves me so much. He wants me to like her first.”

I could not speak any longer.

Tears had welled up in my eyes.

For some time there was silence.

I felt very embarrassed at having told everything to a complete stranger.

But strangely after telling him everything I felt good too.

I wiped my tears and nose with my handkerchief and said, “I am sorry, uncle.”

“Uncle? Hey come on. I’m not that old. Call me Girish. I told you, didn’t I? And don’t worry. Everything will work out,” he said.

“For you too,” I said.

“I hope so,” he said, “I am making it to this appointment with great difficulty – I made it almost by a hair’s breadth. I signed off my ship in Perth yesterday evening and managed to reach Mumbai just a few hours ago. And here I am on this train to Pune. She told me if I didn’t keep my appointment at Vaishali with her tomorrow, she would go ahead and marry someone else.”

“So romantic,” I said. “Just like in the movie …”

“An Affair to Remember?”

“No. Some Hindi Movie – Bheegi Raat or something – I don’t remember the exact name,” I said, and then I asked him, “You must be dying to meet her, isn’t it?”

“Of course I’m dying to meet her,” he said, “It’s been almost an year since we said goodbye to each other at Port Blair. While parting we promised each other that we would meet tomorrow – on the 12th of December this year at 10 a.m. at Vaishali restaurant in Pune.”

“Why the 12th of December?”

“We met for the first time on the 12th of December last year. And yes, it’s her birthday too! Quite a coincidence, isn’t it?”

“But you must have kept in touch – emailed – surely spoken on the phone.”

“No. She didn’t give me her address. I searched for her on the net, the networking sites too. No luck. She was in Port Blair on a holiday. And me? Well I’ve been sailing since. She said if I really loved her I would come.”

He paused, picked up the Mills & Boon romance book from his lap, and he said, “The only thing she gave me was this book.”

“Can I see it?” I asked.

“No. You are too small for Mills & Boon,” he said.

He kept the book in the plastic book-rack in front of his seat, turned to me and said, “Hey, Priya. Why don’t you come to Vaishali tomorrow at 10 in the morning? We’ll celebrate her birthday together and have some yummy snacks. And then I’ll propose to her. If she agrees, we will all go to some other place to celebrate and have a hearty Lunch.”

“But you haven’t even told me her name,” I said.

“You’ll find out tomorrow,” he said, “and suppose she doesn’t come, I’ll be heartbroken. Then you can console me. But I’m sure she will be there at Vaishali waiting for me. She promised. Whatever her decision, she said she won’t ditch me. She’ll definitely be there for our rendezvous.”

I looked out of the tinted-glass window.

The sun was about to set.

Outside it was getting dark.

Inside it was cold.

The Deccan Queen slowed down.

It was Karjat, the station in the foothills just before the mighty Sahyadri Mountains .

I turned to Girish and said, “Let’s get down. You get yummy batata-wadas here.”

“Your father…”

“Please?”

“Okay.”

We strolled on the platform eating the delicious batata-wadas with the lip-smacking chutney, and suddenly Girish said, “I’m nervous. I hope everything works out well.”

“Me too,” I said, “Papa needs someone. But he’s so worried for me – I wonder whether I’ll like my new mother or not. And she too must like me.”

“Of course, she will like you. You will like each other. I’m sure things will be fine. Everything will work out for the better, for you, and also for me. Why don’t you bring her also to Vaishali tomorrow morning along with you? And we will all celebrate together!” he said.

“I’ll try,” I said.

“You must.”

“Okay. If I like her, I’ll bring her with me.”

“But you must come.”

“Of course I will come,” I said. “Like a kabab-me-haddi.”

We laughed and got inside the train.

Pushed by three banker engines the Deccan Queen began its climb up the steep Western Ghats .

“Hi, Girish!” an excited voice spoke from above.

I looked up.

Another young bearded man.

But this was a boisterous type.

“Oh, Hi Sanjiv. What are you doing here?” Girish said, getting up from his seat.

“I am going to Lonavala,” the man named Sanjiv answered.

“Lonavala?”

“I’ve bought a cottage in Lonavala. A sort of farmhouse. Why don’t you come and see it?”

“No, No,” Girish said, “I’ve got an important appointment in Pune.”

“When?”

“Tomorrow morning. At 10 o’clock in the morning.”

“And where are you going to spend the night?”

“I don’t know. Maybe some hotel or someplace.”

“Why don’t you spend the night with me in my bungalow in Lonavala? I’ve got a bottle of Single Malt and we’ve got so much to talk. If you want we can go out someplace. Come on let’s enjoy the evening together. I’ll drop you first thing in the morning in time for your appointment. It’s only an hour’s drive to Pune. In any case I have to go to Pune tomorrow to meet some relatives. I’ll drop you in Pune wherever you want – don’t say No…” the man called Sanjiv insisted.

I could sense that Girish wanted to go, so I said, “It’s okay. I’ll manage. She is definitely coming to pick me up.”

Sanjiv looked at me in a curious manner, so Girish said, “This is Priya, my co-passenger. I promised her father I’d deliver her safely to Pune.”

“Hi, young lady,” Sanjiv said, “Girish and I are batchmates and shipmates. We’re meeting after a long time.”

I knew that both of them were dying to talk to each other and have a good time, so I said to Girish, “You get down at Lonavala. I promise I’ll look after myself. I’ve got my mobile with me and I’ve got her number also. I’ll ring up my Papa the moment I reach Pune.”

I insisted that I would be okay, and egged on by Sanjiv, a hesitant Girish got down at Lonavala – but not before we exchanged each other’s mobile numbers and he requested the lady across the aisle to look after me.

It was only after the train left Lonavala on its final leg to Pune that I noticed that Girish had forgotten to take his ‘Mills and Boon’ romance paperback.

I took out the book from the rack and opened it.

On the first page was written in beautiful cursive handwriting:

To My Dear Girish,

In remembrance of the lovely time we had together in Port Blair.

Snehal

PS – Remember  there is a thin line between pity and love.

As I looked at the message – something started happening within me.

Snehal?

Same Shenal?

It couldn’t be?

Or could it be?

Snehal.

A loving person.

That’s what the name Snehal means.

Maybe it was just a coincidence. Is Snehal a common name? Maybe.

It’s possible.

Maybe there are many “Snehals” in Pune.

The Deccan Queen is rushing towards Pune.

There will be a “Snehal” waiting for me at Pune Railway Station.

A “Snehal” – who I am going to meet for the first time.

The “Snehal” – who my father wants to be my new mother.

And do you know – what is the first thing I am going to ask Snehal the moment I meet her?

I am going to ask her which is the best restaurant in Port Blair.

And whatever her answer – I am going to take her to Vaishali Restaurant on Fergusson College Road – at 10 o’clock tomorrow morning.

And – I am dying to see the expression on Snehal’s face – and Girish’s face too – when they see each other at the rendezvous.

I will not return the Mills & Boon romance book to Girish.

I will keep it for myself.

I want to read it on my journey back from Pune to Mumbai by the Deccan Queen.

And then – I will tell my Papa everything about the delightful journey on the Deccan Queen.

VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Disclaimer:

This Story is a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the story are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Notice:

No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.

Copyright © Vikram Karve (all rights reserved) 

Link to my original post in my Blog Academic and Creative Writing Journal Vikram Karve: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2016/09/romance-on-deccan-queen-love-story.html

© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Revised Version of My Story Written by me 12 years ago in the year 2004 and earlier posted online in my blogs by me Vikram Karve at urls: http://travel.sulekha.com/romantic-journey-on-the-deccan-queen_travelogue_3779  and  http://creative.sulekha.com/mills-and-boon-on-the-deccan-queen_82018_blog  and  http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2011/12/merry-christmas.html  and  http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2012/05/one-evening-on-deccan-queen.html  and  http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2014/12/romance-on-deccan-queen.html

Come September – My Very Own Love Story

September 8, 2016

SEPTEMBER 12 – Seven Pages from the Diary of My Life 

Link to my original post in my Blog Academic and Creative Writing Journal Vikram Karve: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2016/09/my-very-own-love-story-september-12.html

Come September – My Very Own Love Story – By Vikram Karve

I wrote this story around 3 years ago –  on my birthday  12 September 2013.

And  I posted the story on my blog.

I think it is one of my good stories.

Surprisingly –  this story went unnoticed and unappreciated.

So –  I am posting my “Birthday Story” once more  for you to read.

Do tell me if you like it.

And don’t forget to wish me a Happy Birthday on the 12th of September … !!!

SEPTEMBER 12

7 Pages from the Diary of My Life

My Very Own Love Story

Short Fiction

By

VIKRAM KARVE

12 SEPTEMBER – A Love Story by Vikram Karve

12 September 1977

Shivalik Hostel IIT Delhi

VIJAY  and  ME

It is our 21st Birthday.

Yes – we are both 21 years old today.

Vijay and Me were born on the same day.

Our hostel-mates brought a specially ordered birthday cake all the way from CP from the famous Wenger’s Bakery for Vijay and me – and we celebrated our birthday in our hostel canteen at tea time.

We have been celebrating our birthday together for the last 12 years – for 7 years in our boarding school at Lovedale near Ooty.

And then for 5 years here at IIT Delhi.

But – this is a special occasion for two reasons.

We are 21 years old.

And – this may be our last birthday together.

Who knows where we will be next year – after we finish our B. Tech. engineering course – and each of us go our own ways pursuing our own careers in the journey of our lives.

To celebrate this special occasion we decide to booze – for the first time in our lives.

So – we get a bottle of Whisky from the booze shop in Green Park.

And we get lots of Tandoori Chicken and Kebabs from the Essex Farms shop in Hauz Khas.

Then we sit on the terrace and drink and talk – reminisce about our childhood and the good times we had together.

By the time we kill the bottle of whisky – we are gloriously drunk.

In that glorious drunken state we make a promise to each other – Vijay and Me – we promise each other – that we will meet every year on the 12th of September to celebrate our birthdays together.

12 September 1978

Bangalore

VIJAY  and  ME

As promised – we meet on our birthday.

This is our first birthday after we passed out with our B.Tech. degrees.

Vijay comes down from Ahmedabad – where he is studying Management at the elite IIM-A.

I pick him up from the railway station – and I drive him down on my scooter to my room in the trainee hostel.

In the morning I show him my workplace – my impressive factory – and then my boss gives me the day off to celebrate my birthday.

We scooter down to heart of town – and we spend a few hours loafing, window-shopping and ogling at the PYTs strolling on Brigade Road and MG Road.

Later – after a few beers – we enjoy a “Cabaret” (our first) at a restaurant called “Three Aces”.

Emboldened by “Dutch Courage” fuelled by the alcohol in our veins – we want to do something more “adventurous”.

But – the moment I see those “sexy females” – I chicken out.

I do not want to admit that I am feeling scared.

So – I say that I am experiencing “pangs of conscience” in doing such “sinful” things.

Vijay instantly agrees.

He looks relieved.

I think – that like me – Vijay too is feeling anxious – and is “shit scared” about the whole sordid thing.

We beat a hasty retreat.

And so – we end our 22nd Birthday with our virtue unspoiled – and our virginity intact.

12 September 1982

Visakhapatnam (Vizag)

VIJAY  USHA  and  ME

I really like Usha – Vijay’s brand new wife.

Usha is a plump, graceful girl with a very pretty face.

She has a sincere, friendly smile which radiates a charming innocence.

They were married just a month ago – and I could not attend their wedding as I was sent abroad for more than 3 years for advanced training and on-the-job work experience.

That is why I am so happy that I could keep our 12th September birthday date after a gap of four years.

(We met last on 12 September 1978 in Bangalore, remember!)

They say that when a woman finds her way into a group of men friends – especially two close friends like Vijay and me – the friendship among men sometimes disintegrates.

But after meeting Usha – I know that is not going to happen.

Usha is a “back-home-type” small town girl.

She has a certain innocent charm about her.

Usha welcomes me into her home with honest warmth and genuine affection – and I instantly know that we are going to get along very well – and the bonds of my friendship with Vijay are going to be strengthened.

“How come you landed up in Vizag?” I ask Vijay.

“You have to prove yourself in the field before they take you to the company headquarters in Mumbai,” Vijay says.

Vijay has specialized in Marketing at IIM and has landed up a lucrative job at a famous FMCG company and he has been given the most challenging assignment.

Vijay cribs about Vizag being quite a boring place.

But his wife Usha says, “I wish we stay here. I love Visakhapatnam. It is such a nice place, the people are so good here and we are very happy here. I don’t want to go to big city like Mumbai.”

Vijay has taken the day off so we drive down the East Coast Road to Rishikonda Beach and swim in the sea.

Vijay keeps calling Usha to join us in the water for a swim but she seems quite shy.

Usha sits on the beach in her sari and watches Vijay and me enjoy ourselves frolicking in the cool blue water of the Bay of Bengal.

In the evening, Vijay and I sip chilled beer on the lush green lawns of the Waltair Club.

We both want Usha to come with us to the club, but Usha remains at home.

Usha tells us to enjoy ourselves but she insists that we come home for dinner as she will be cooking something special for the occasion.

Vijay starts talking about his newly wedded wife, “Sorry about Usha, yaar, she is quite a prudish type. Usha likes to remain home most of the time. She just does not want to go out anywhere. You saw how shy she was at the beach.”

“Hey, don’t say that. Usha is the best thing that happened to you. You are lucky to get such a good wife,” I say.

When we get home I am impressed by the awesome way in which Usha has decorated the house for our birthday.

Usha has baked a birthday cake for both of us.

We cut the freshly baked birthday cake and then all of us enjoy a sumptuous dinner.

For both of us, Vijay and me, it was a memorable birthday indeed.

Early next morning I say goodbye.

We promise to meet next year.

And then I catch the morning flight out of Vizag.

12 September 1984

Mumbai

VIJAY  USHA  NISHA  and  ME

Well – I could not make it last year – on the 12th of September 1983 – as I was again sent abroad on a project – so we meet after a gap of 2 years.

Vijay has moved up the ladder pretty fast.

Just recently – he has been posted to the Head Office of his FMCG Company.

That is the beauty of being an IIM graduate – you move up very fast.

I wish that – like Vijay – I too had had taken the IIM route – instead of deciding to be a hard-core engineer – where you have to slog it out in the field – especially if you land up in “projects”.

I sit with Vijay’s wife Usha sipping tea in the balcony of their 3rd floor sea facing company flat on Marine Drive in Mumbai.

We watch the sunset – it is a spectacular sight – the interplay of colours in the sky and the sun is being swallowed by the placid blue waters of the Arabian Sea.

After the sun sets – the lights on the Queen’s Necklace come on – it looks fascinating.

The phone rings – and Usha goes inside to pick it up.

“You have a shower and get ready,” Usha says, “I’ll get ready too. Vijay said he’ll be here in half an hour – and we will go straightaway to the club.”

“Club? Why club? Let’s sit at home. You cook something simple. We’ll just sit and chat,” I say.

“Vijay said we’ll all go to the club,” Usha says with finality.

When Vijay arrives – there is a woman with him.

She looks beautiful, chic and very elegant.

Vijay introduces us to each other.

The woman’s name is Nisha – and she is Vijay’s colleague in his office.

Nisha has an MBA in finance.

She was working abroad for some years.

Recently – Nisha has joined Vijay’s company as Finance Manager.

Vijay introduces Nisha as his office colleague.

But my sixth sense tells me that this woman Nisha is much more than a mere colleague.

Nisha goes in to freshen up.

“I hope you don’t mind if Nisha comes with us,” Vijay says to me.

“Of course I do mind if she comes with us,” I say, “we don’t want outsiders in our get-together, do we?”

“Let her come,” Usha pleads with me, “Poor thing. Nisha has just come back to India after getting out of a bad marriage. She has no one else in Mumbai – and Vijay is helping her settle down.”

“She’ll be good company,” Vijay says.

“I hope you are not trying to set me up with Nisha…?” I ask, tongue-in-cheek.

We start laughing – but suddenly Nisha comes in.

We drive to the club.

Usha sits beside Vijay in front.

Nisha sits with me in the rear of Vijay’s new Maruti 800 car.

Way back in 1984 – a Maruti Car was a prized possession – and Vijay is one of the lucky guys to get a much sought after Maruti Car from the first lot.

The smallness of the car creates a forced intimacy between Nisha and me.

Nisha sits close to me – the aroma of her perfume is enticing – our bodies touch – and I feel aroused by her tantalizing sensuousness.

Nisha is indeed a very alluring woman.

We sit by the sea – watching lights of ships at a distance in the darkness – and we enjoy our drinks in a most pleasant ambience.

We – Vijay and Me – we drink Scotch Whisky.

Nisha gets high on Martini – while Usha has fruit juice.

It is a lovely evening.

On the way back – we drop Nisha at a working women’s hostel in Colaba – her temporary home till she finds a good apartment.

“Poor thing – it must be tough for Nisha to live in a hostel. Vijay, you must find her a good apartment fast,” Usha says, as we drive towards Marine Drive.

“I am trying to get Nisha a flat near our office in Churchgate,” Vijay says.

We drive down to Chowpatty – and walk on the sands by the sea – eating ice cream – a delightful end to a pleasurable evening.

12 September 1987

New Delhi

VIJAY  NISHA  and  ME

Last time – 3 years ago – it was Vijay, Usha, Nisha and Me – four of us together.

Now – Usha is missing – and it is Vijay, Nisha and Me.

Yes – now Usha has gone – and in her place there is Nisha.

Vijay divorced Usha and married Nisha.

Then both of them – Nisha and Vijay – relocated abroad to America.

Now they both work in New York.

And me – after slogging for many years in the field – I have finally been posted to our Delhi office.

It is great to be back in Delhi, after so many years.

We spend a nostalgic day visiting all our haunts in IIT Delhi – our hostel rooms, the canteens, the classrooms – walk round the campus.

Then – we spend the evening in my bungalow in Saket – drinking late into the night.

Later – when we are alone – Vijay says to me, “I have looked after Usha well. I have bought her a luxurious 3 BHK flat in Pune – and I have given her plenty of money. Yes – I have given her so much money that she can live well …”

“Hey, Vijay, why are you telling me all this? It is your personal matter. Are you feeling guilty? Don’t feel guilty – just forget it – whatever happened, has happened – and it is past history now. So don’t feel sorry. Come on – it is well past midnight. You have a flight to catch tomorrow. Let’s go to sleep.” I say.

And we go to sleep.

12 September 1989

Pune

USHA  and  ME

“Are you sure Vijay is not coming?” Usha, my wife, asks me.

(Yes – Vijay’s ex-wife Usha and I got married in 1988)

I look at my wife Usha and say: “No. I rang up Vijay twice today – but he is making all sorts of excuses.”

“Last year – Vijay was abroad on the 12th of September – but this time – he is in Mumbai on work – and he can surely make it – it’s just a 3 hour drive to Pune,” Usha says.

“Well – Usha – I really don’t know. Maybe – Vijay has got a guilty conscience for ditching you. Maybe – he can’t bear to see us together. Or maybe – Nisha has told him not to come…” I say.

“Okay, let’s celebrate your birthday – just you and me,” Usha says – and we go out for dinner.

12 September 2012

Khadakwasla near Pune

USHA  ME  and  VIJAY

I sit with Vijay on the lawns of my farmhouse – and we sip our sundowners – as we watch the sun set behind the hills across the lake.

We meet after a gap of 25 years.

The last time Vijay and me got together was on 12 September 1987 – in New Delhi – when Vijay had come with his new wife Nisha – after divorcing Usha.

Like me – I am sure he is thinking about the twists and turns in the journey of our lives.

I think of all the birthdays – the 12th of September – we have spent together.

It is like a merry-go-round of relationships.

First – it was VIJAY and ME.

Then – it was VIJAY USHA and ME.

After that – it was VIJAY USHA NISHA and ME.

Later – it was VIJAY NISHA and ME.

Even later – it was USHA and ME.

Now – it is USHA ME and VIJAY.

Yes, you guessed right – Nisha divorced Vijay – and now Vijay is all alone.

Next morning I drop Vijay to the Mumbai airport – and he catches the flight back home to America.

EPILOGUE

12 September 2013

Pune

USHA  ME  and  ???

I hope Vijay will come.

But – I know he will not come.

I could see it in his eyes last time.

Maybe Vijay will never come.

Maybe Vijay and I will never meet again.

So – maybe this birthday – the 12th of September 2013 – and all my future birthdays – all the 12th’s of September – I will have to celebrate with my “much married wife” Usha.

Of course – it was thanks to Vijay – that I first met Usha – in Vizag – 31 years ago – on 12 September 1982 – when she was newly married to Vijay.

But – on every 12th of September – I will always wait for Vijay – who was born on the same day as I was born – on the exact date and year – as if he were my twin brother.

EPILOGUE:

Dear Reader:

Vijay did not come.

Yes – as you guessed – Vijay did not come on September 12, 2013.

He did not come the next year too – on September 12, 2014.

And – he did not come the next year too – on September 12, 2015.

Soon – in a few days from now – it will be September 12, 2016 – my 60th birthday – and it will be Vijay’s 60th birthday too.

Like always – I will wait for Vijay to come.

Tell me – Dear Reader – Do you think Vijay will come?

VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Disclaimer:

This story is a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the story are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Notice:

No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.

Copyright © Vikram Karve (all rights reserved) 

Link to my original post in my Blog Academic and Creative Writing Journal Vikram Karve: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2016/09/my-very-own-love-story-september-12.html

I wrote this story in Sep 2013 and this story was first posted online by me Vikram Karve on 12 September 2013 in my blog at 9/12/2013 02:16:00 PM at url: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2013/09/september-12.html and later re-posted at urls: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2014/05/my-love-story-7-pages-from-diary-of-my.html  and http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2013/11/my-love-story-vignettes-from-diary-of.htmland  http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2014/09/12-september-my-birthday-story.html and http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2015/08/12-september-7-pages-from-diary-of-my.html

IT TAKES TWO TO TANGO – So Why Blame the Man Alone for “Stealing the Affection of a Brother Officer’s Wife”…?

August 4, 2016

While browsing through my “Humor in Uniform” writings I came across this Story I had posted on my blog more than 2 years a go in July 2014.

I had written this post after reading a newspaper report on a “stealing affections” case.

Here is the story once more for you to mull over.

Link to my original post in my Blog Academic and Creative Writing Journal Vikram Karve:

http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2016/08/stealing-affections-it-takes-two-to.html

From My Humor in Uniform Archives

(This Post Was Written on July 19, 2014)

Stealing Affections  It Takes Two to Tango

A Spoof By VIKRAM KARVE

There was a recent report in the newspapers about a Navy Commodore being sacked as he was found guilty of “stealing the affections of a brother officer’s wife”.

Link to TOI newsreport dated 17 July 2014 :

http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/india/Senior-Naval-officer-sacked-for-sexual-affair/articleshow/38563015.cms

(More url links to the similar news items on the “stealing affection” affair are given at the end of the post)

The term “stealing affection” is the military euphemism for “adultery”.

Stealing the affection of a brother officer’s wife is deemed to be conduct unbecoming of an officer and conduct prejudicial to good order and discipline and is considered an offence.

Don’t you feel that the expression “stealing affection” is a misnomer?

The word “steal” implies that you take something belonging to someone else without her knowledge or consent.

Can you “steal” someone’s “affections” without the other person knowing it?

Is it a case of one-way love?

Or is the lady (brother officer’s wife) willingly giving her affections to the officer (her husband’s colleague)?

If she is willingly giving her affections, can the officer be accused of “stealing” affections?

And, if the officer had forced his affections on the lady, she could have complained of rape or molestation, or outraging the modesty of a woman, for which the punishment is much more severe than mere dismissal.

There is a difference between sexual harassment and a love affair between two consenting adults.

An officer can “steal” the affections of a brother officer’s wife only because the brother officer’s wife is willing to have her affections “stolen” by him.

In a love affair, the relationship and the sex, both are consensual.

So, isn’t the woman equally responsible for the adulterous love affair?

It takes two to tango.

Yes, it takes two willing people to commit infidelity, not just one.

Both the man and the woman are equally guilty of indulging in the immoral act of adultery.

But the man is punished severely, even sacked from his job, whereas the equally guilty woman goes scot-free.

Is this fair?

From an ethical point of view, is it ethical to blame only the man for the adulterous love affair in which the woman has willingly participated?

Is it not a case of reverse gender bias?

Extra Marital Affairs and “Stealing Affections” are not new to the Navy.

Surely, you have heard of the famous Commander Nanavati Case which, some say, was instrumental in abolishing the jury trial system in India.

As far as the navy mores are concerned, it seems okay for officers to sow their wild oats outside.

Even in cases of “stealing the affection of a brother officer’s wife” – as long as the affair is kept discreet, everyone looks the other way.

The Navy cracks the whip only when one of the aggrieved spouses complains, and the complainant is mostly the cuckolded husband whose wife’s affections are being “stolen” by another officer.

The saddest part is that the wife of the “straying” unfaithful husband is hit by a double whammy.

First, she has to bear the social humiliation associated with her husband accused of committing adultery with another woman and being punished for “conduct unbecoming of an officer”.

Second, she has to suffer financial consequences of her husband losing his job and, maybe, his pension benefits, if he is dismissed with disgrace.

The financial jolt due to loss of job and income of the breadwinner can be particularly severe is the wife is a homemaker financially dependent on her husband.

The children suffer unimaginable agony too.

Earlier there were no lady officers in the armed forces.

So the only sexual “offence” pertained to male officers “stealing the affection of a brother officer’s wife”.

With the entry of women officers, new possibilities have emerged.

Whereas for male officers, stealing the affection of a brother officer’s wife is deemed to be conduct unbecoming of an officer and conduct prejudicial to good order and discipline and is considered an offence, in the case of female officers will the same apply to “stealing the affection of a sister officer’s husband” or “stealing the affections of a married officer”?

By the way, for a lady officer, stealing the affection of a “brother officer” is considered okay.

Conversely, stealing the affections of a “sister officer” seems okay for male officers.

In fact, “brother officers” are permitted to marry “sister officers” (yes, male officers are allowed to marry female officers) and there are many “military couples in uniform” in the armed forces.

It is all very bamboozling, so all I will say is that “stealing affection” is an affair of the heart in which “it takes two to tango”.

Links to News Reports mentioned in the post:

http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/india/Senior-Naval-officer-sacked-for-sexual-affair/articleshow/38563015.cms

http://www.thehindu.com/news/cities/Kochi/navy-sacks-senior-officer-formisconduct/article6224454.ece

http://indiatoday.intoday.in/story/navy-officer-wife-love-affair-officer-dismissed-kochi/1/372951.html

http://preview.sarai.net/journal/05_pdf/10/03_aarti.pdf

http://www.hindustantimes.com/news/specials/proj_tabloid/tabloidhome1912.shtml#

http://www.hindustantimes.com/news/specials/proj_tabloid/nanavatiinside.shtml

A Recent Case of Stealing Affections ->

http://indianexpress.com/article/cities/chandigarh/army-court-of-inquiry-finds-colonel-blameworthy-of-stealing-affections-of-brother-officers-wife-2797410/

Stealing Affections – It Takes Two to Tango

VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Disclaimer:

  1. This story is a spoof, satire, pure fiction, just for fun and humor, no offence is meant to anyone, so take it with a pinch of salt and have a laugh.
  2. All stories in this blog are a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the stories are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Notice:

No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.

Copyright © Vikram Karve (All Rights Reserved) 

Revised Repost of my article “Stealing Affections – It Takes Two to Tango” posted online more than two years ago on 19 July 2014 at url:

http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2014/07/humor-in-uniform-stealing-affections-it.html

A Girl in Every Port – My Love Life (Pre-Marital and Extra-Marital)

August 2, 2016

My Love Life – Pre-Marital and Extra-Marital

Link to My Original Post in my Academic and Creative Writing Journal Blog: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2016/08/my-love-life-pre-marital-and-extra.html

BASIC DESIRES

I read somewhere that we humans have two basic desires: FOOD and LOVE

Some may contemplate a rather sensual connotation for “LOVE”

But – I prefer the romantic aspect.

So – for me – Love means Romance

I was quite lucky on the “FOOD” front – I was highly successful in satisfying my Food Desires – which is evident from my “Foodie” Writings in which I have described my Foodie Adventures.

However – as far as “LOVE” was concerned…?

Well – let me tell you about My Love Life in a nutshell…

MY LOVE LIFE – IN A NUTSHELL : Dating Romance Marriage Affairs – A Spoof By VIKRAM KARVE

A GIRL IN EVERY PORT

“I have heard that Naval Officers have a girl in every port – but – so far – we don’t have even one single girl in even one port…” my course-mate said.

“Come on – we were under training. Maybe now – things will look up…” I said.

“Yes – I am sure we are going to have a good love life now…” my course-mate said, “we are lucky to have got Bombay based ships.”

(This story happened more than 38 years ago – in the 1970’s – and those days – Mumbai was called Bombay – but I shall use Mumbai from now on).

“Yes – we are indeed lucky as compared to those poor Vizag guys – they are destined to a desolate life,” I said.

TALENT FOR ROMANCE

“The first thing I am going to do in Mumbai is to get myself a girlfriend…” my friend said.

“Me too…” I said.

My friend succeeded.

I miserably failed.

I just did not have the talent for romance.

Everything had been handed down to me on a platter.

All the conditions to get a girlfriend were ideal.

I was located in ‘maximum city’ Bombay (now called Mumbai) – and – that too – South Bombay (SoBo) – which had plenty of the best most beautiful, chic and savvy modern girls wanting to be friends with young smart boys like me.

I was on the best ship of the fleet.

And – in those ‘licence-quota-permit Raj’ days – as far as girls were concerned – Navy Officers were in high demand – since we got exotic foreign stuff duty free (especially perfumes) – and these imported goodies were was not available outside – and we had access to the best of clubs and social circles.

(Now – with the advent of liberalization and globalization – the charm of the Defence Services has gone down – since everything we got ‘duty free’ – and much more – all these goodies are freely available to the ‘Civilian Elite’ who are much more debonair and affluent than the Naval Officers of today).

But going back to those ‘good old days’ of the 1970’s – most young Naval Officers had girlfriends – and a few ‘Casanovas’ were having a good time with ‘fleet auxiliaries’.

But – I had drawn a blank.

My coursemate had acquired a ‘girlfriend’ within a few days of our reaching Mumbai – and he was often seen gallivanting with her all over the place.

In my case – I had miserably failed to acquire a girlfriend.

So – instead of wasting my time on trying to romance girls – I focused on food and drink.

DO GIRLFRIENDS MAKE YOU HAPPY…?

Once – after imbibing half a bottle of whisky – followed by a sumptuous Biryani at Olympia on Colaba Causeway – and a delicious ‘Triple Sundae’ ice cream at Yankee Doodle on Marine Drive – I returned to my ship in a happy mood.

Soon – I was fast asleep – enjoying sweet ‘foodie dreams’ in my cabin.

Suddenly – I was rudely jolted awake.

It was my coursemate – who had come over from his ship – which was tied up alongside next to my ship.

“I am very upset – I want to talk to someone – and you are my best friend,” he said.

“Yes – once upon a time I was your ‘best friend’ – but now – you have got your darling girlfriend who you call ‘Honey’…” I said angrily.

“It’s about her – I just saw her off at the airport – she is on a long haul flight plan – she will be away for two weeks…” he said.

His girlfriend was an Air-Hostess who flew on international routes.

“Okay – so you can join me for food and drink till she comes back…” I said.

“No – it’s not that – she wants to marry me …” he said.

“So – get married,” I said.

“It is not so simple – my parents won’t agree – her parents want her to continue he job too – and in her airline – an ‘air-hostess’ has to quit the moment she gets married. It is all very complicated – I have realized that falling in love has complicated my life…” he said sadly.

And then – he went on and on…

He told me his entire ‘sob story’…

My lovesick friend totally disturbed my sleep – by narrating his ‘love woes’ till early morning.

I thought that having a girlfriend made you happier.

But – exactly the opposite had happened to my otherwise cheerful friend.

He appeared to have become miserable after falling in love.

I said to myself: “If having just one girlfriend had done this to him – just imagine the situation of those Casanovas with multiple girlfriends…!”

It seemed that a ‘zero-girlfriend’ guy like me was much happier than my counterparts who had girlfriends.

FOOD = FIXED DEPOSIT

I realized that – ‘Food’ was a Safe Investment like a Fixed Deposit.

Yes – focusing your energies on eating good food was like buying a Fixed Deposit in a Nationalized Bank.

It was a stable situation.

Maybe – the ‘returns’ were lower – but for the time and money you spent on food – you got a guaranteed ‘Return on Investment’ (ROI).

Yes – ‘investing’ in Food gave you a guaranteed ‘Return’ – maybe not a very high ‘Return on Investment’ (ROI) – but a safe steady predictable ‘Return on Investment’ (ROI) – just like Bank Fixed Deposits.

ROMANCE = STOCK MARKET

On the other hand – ‘Romance’ was a Risky Investment like the Stock Market.

Acquiring a girlfriend was like trading in a volatile share.

Romance is an emotionally volatile relationship – similar to a financially volatile stock market.

It was just like the ‘returns’ from the stock market which were fluctuating and unpredictable – and could vary from high to low – with dynamic changes every moment.

Yes – the ‘Return on Investment’ (ROI) that you got from a Romantic Relationship could swing between Agony and Ecstasy

A ‘ZERO-ROMANCE’ LOVELESS BACHELOR LIFE

So – being ‘risk-averse’ – I was content to spend my ‘zero-romance’ loveless bachelor life enjoying good food and drink.

Of course – I did make plenty of effort to ‘fall in love’ with many girls.

But – sadly – No girl was willing to fall in love with me.

My few attempts at dating girls ended in disaster.

So – I resigned myself to the fact that ‘love marriage’ was not in my destiny.

And – hence – I settled for an ‘arranged marriage’.

EXTRA MARITAL ROMANCE

As a newly married couple – my wife and I – along with our pet Lhasa Apso girl Sherry – the three of us – we lived in a lovely one room flat in Curzon Road Apartments in New Delhi.

One evening – we were sitting in Nathu’s Sweets – in Bengali Market – one of our favourite places – where we often walked down in the evenings.

There was a group of beautiful girls sitting nearby – and my eyes were focused on them.

Yes – I was ogling at the pretty girls – as most young men do – or want to do.

One girl seemed particularly attractive – and I was staring at her quite blatantly – with frank admiration in my eyes.

My wife followed my gaze.

She was quite amused to see me looking at the pretty girls so intently – especially the yearning look I gave to that most gorgeous girl who seemed to be the object of my total attention.

Suddenly – my gaze shifted.

My wife was curious.

Was there a new ‘object’ which had captured my attention?

She followed my gaze – to see where I was looking.

On observing the new ‘object of my attention’ – my wife started laughing.

A tray of sweets was being brought in from the kitchen – and my eyes had ‘locked on’ to the mouthwatering sweets like a Radar ‘locks on’ to its target.

The tray was heaped with my favourite sweet – the inimitable ‘Lavang Lata’.

Soon – I was fully focused on eating my Lavang Lata – totally oblivious to my surroundings.

And – I seemed to have completely forgotten about those beautiful girls sitting on the table nearby.

In fact – I was so absorbed in savouring the delicious ‘Lavang Lata’ – and I was enjoying myself so totally – that I even forgot about my wife sitting opposite – who was not quite relishing the dish of ‘Lavang Lata’ that I had ordered for her too.

“So – it seems that you found the ‘Lavang Lata’ more enticing than those beautiful girls…” my wife said to me.

“Of course – I love good food – there is no greater love than the love of food…” I said.

And then – while walking back home – I told her about my failed attempts to romance during my Mumbai days.

I explained to her why I preferred food to romance – about my theory:

“Food is like a Fixed Deposit versus “Romance is like the Stock Market”

My wife looked at me and said:

“Someone had told me that a Naval Officer has a girl in every port – but looking at you – I am convinced that you did not have even a single girl in any port – in fact – you must have had a ‘foodie joint’ in every port…”

EPILOGUE 

My wife was right – I did not have even a single girlfriend during my bachelor days.

But – after I got married – my luck improved – and – girls wanted to be friends with me – and – slowly but surely – I started having girlfriends – and – today – I have plenty of girlfriends – a few ‘real’ – and – most ‘virtual’ – especially after the advent of internet – most of my girlfriends are in the online ‘virtual’ world of cyberspace.

It is funny – isn’t it…?

Not a single girl wanted to be my friend before marriage (when I was a most ‘eligible’ bachelor)

And then – when I was ‘much married’ – and – no longer ‘eligible’ – so many beautiful “girls” wanted to be friends with me.

Can someone please explain this paradox.

But – let me tell you the one important precaution I take when making friends with girls – I get my girlfriends “approved” by my “Better Half”.

Yes – all my real life “offline girlfriends” have been duly “Approved” by my “Better Half”.

And – as far as my “online girlfriends” are concerned – I know that my virtual interactions with them are being rigorously monitored by my “Better Half”.

Ha Ha – so I can say that all my girlfriends are “approved girlfriends”.

Yes – if you are a married man – it is always better to get your girlfriends approved by your “Better Half” – it is safer that way – you have a clear conscience – and – you can have a transparent friendship – without the fear of being “found out”.

I am sure it is the same with married women too – isn’t it better to get your husband’s approval before having a “Boyfriend”…?

By the way – my “Better Half” approved of all my “girlfriends” – except one.

Ha Ha – about her – I will tell you next time.

Till then – have fun – and do tell me if you liked the story of my “Love Life”

VIKRAM KARVE

Copyright © Vikram Karve
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Disclaimer:

  1. This story is a spoof, satire, pure fiction, just for fun and humor, no offence is meant to anyone, so take it with a pinch of salt and have a laugh.
  2. All stories in this blog are a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the stories are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Notice:

No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.

Copyright © Vikram Karve (All Rights Reserved)

© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

This is a revised version of my story A GIRL IN EVERY PORT posted online by me Vikram Karve earlier in my Academic and Creative Writing Journal blog on 13 May 2015 at url: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2015/05/humor-in-uniform-girl-in-every-port.html  and reposted by me later at url:  http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2015/09/my-love-life-dating-romance-marriage.html  and http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2016/04/my-love-life-in-nutshell-dating-romance.html

Stealing the Affection of a Brother Officer’s Wife – Humor in Uniform

August 22, 2015

http://karvediat.blogspot.in/2014/11/humor-in-uniform-stealing-affections.html.

Link to my original post in my Academic and Creative Writing Journal: 
http://karvediat.blogspot.in/201…

An Extract from my Novel – Nobody’s Navy – a Fictional Spoof

Continued from:

1. NOBODY’S NAVY – an Introduction

Academic and Creative Writing Journal Vikram Karve

2. OFFICER LIKE QUALITIES aka OLQ – THE ART OF COMMAND

(How Sub Lieutenant NOBODY became a “Somebody”)

OFFICER LIKE QUALITIES aka OLQ – THE ART OF COMMAND


NOBODY’S NAVY – a Fictional Spoof by VIKRAM KARVE

CHAPTER 1

STEALING AFFECTIONS – A MATTER OF HONOUR

“Stealing the affections of a brother officer’s wife?” thundered the Admiral.

The Admiral looked up from the paper he was reading, glared at Captain standing in front of him, and said, “Kaka, I have tolerated a lot of nonsense from your ship, but I not going to condone sexual misconduct.”

“He is innocent, sir” said the Captain, the Commanding Officer of the mighty warship INS Bijlee, the flagship of the Fleet.

Standing beside the Admiral, a bespectacled Commander with yellow lace between his stripes, the Judge Advocate General, called JAG, noticed that, though the Captain spoke in a soft voice, he looked at the Admiral, his boss, the Fleet Commander, squarely in the eye.

The JAG knew that Kaka, as the Captain was known throughout the navy, was ex-Dufferin, an officer of the old-mould, a tough cookie, unlike some of his more morally pliable counterparts.

The Captain looked a decisive, tenacious and determined man, with his broad square face, heavy-lidded eyes and the deep lines at the sides of his mouth.

The Captain never took things lying down.

And now he was taking on his boss, the Admiral, his own Fleet Commander.

This was going to be difficult.

“What the hell do you mean he is innocent?” shouted the Admiral, “that piddly dope-entry Sub-Lieutenant is caught red-handed screwing a Commander’s wife and you say he is bloody innocent? If he was so frigging horny he could have dipped his bloody wick elsewhere – there are plenty of fleet auxiliaries, so many opportunities all over, the dockside is teeming with sugar girls, come on Kaka, you know all this. If he was so bloody sex-starved he could have rogered a midshipman for all I care – but stealing the affections of a senior officer’s wife? It’s just not acceptable and I won’t tolerate it in my fleet.”

There was silence.

The JAG smiled to himself as he thought of the Admiral’s words.

In the navy it was all a matter of form.

The moral issue was a minor detail.

You could sow your wild oats elsewhere, but stealing the affections of brother officers’ wives was taboo, and if you got caught, you were thrown out of the navy.

“Sir, please listen…” the Captain broke the silence.

“No, Kaka,” interrupted the Admiral, “It’s final. I have spoken to the C-in-C. We are throwing the bugger out.”

He gestured to the JAG who gave him a folder.

The Admiral took out a typewritten sheet from the JAG, looked at it and exclaimed, “Nobody? Sub-Lieutenant Nobody? What sort of name is that? Is he a bloody ding?”

“No Sir. He is a bong. His name is an anglicized version of…”

“Doesn’t matter,” the Fleet Commander interrupted the Captain.

The Admiral gave the sheet of paper to the Captain, and said, “You just get his signature on this and personally give it back to me by closing hours today.”

“Resignation letter? You want him to resign his commission on compassionate grounds?” the Captain said, looking incredulous. 

“That’s the best way,” the JAG spoke for the first time, “the C-in-C doesn’t want a scandal. He’s going to Delhi tomorrow and he’ll get the papers cleared personally. The C-in-C wants this officer out of the navy immediately. And he wants it done discreetly.”

“Yes, Kaka, you get his bloody signature, withdraw his ID card, throw him out of your ship, and put him on a train home today itself. I don’t want to see the filthy bugger on board when we sail out tomorrow,” the Admiral bellowed.

“Nonsense,” the Captain said.

“What?” the Admiral looked stunned.

“I am not a post office. I am the Captain of a warship, the Flag Captain, the Commanding Officer of the Flagship of the Western Fleet. You can’t punish a man without hearing him out. It’s against the principles of naval justice,” the Captain said firmly, raising his voice slightly for the first time.

“Justice my bloody foot,” roared the Admiral, “you get this straight, Kaka. The Commander-in-Chief desires that this officer is thrown out. I am your boss and the C-in-C’s desire is my command. Kaka, don’t be stupid. There is no point jeopardising your career for the sake that dodgy son of a bitch.”

“Sub-Lieutenant Nobody is my officer, Sir, and it is my duty to be fair and just to all officers and men under my command,” the captain said firmly.

“But the C-in-C has desired…”

The Captain interrupted the Admiral, and said bluntly, “The C-in-C is not above naval law. He too is subject to the Navy Act. I respectfully submit, Sir, that due process is followed, and the accused officer be heard, before you take a decision.”

The Admiral winced – he said nothing, and he looked as if he were in deep thought, as if he was weighing his options.

The JAG looked at the two sea-dogs, both tough leaders, but with contrasting styles, the profane hot-tempered volatile Admiral, and the steady soft-spoken Captain, who did not say much, but whatever little he said was sensible and relevant.

“Okay,” the Admiral said, “I will see the officer. Bring him to me as soon as possible.”

“He is waiting outside,” the captain said.

The Admiral smiled, “March him up to me in five minutes.”

“Aye, Aye, Sir,” the Captain put on his peak cap.

The Captain saluted smartly and walked off.

Five minutes later Sub-Lieutenant Nobody stood at attention looking at the Admiral sitting across the polished mahogany table.

His Captain sat on a sofa on the side.

“Where is the JAG?” the Captain asked.

“He’s not required. I don’t want any of C-in-C’s goddam spies eavesdropping,” the Admiral said to the Captain.

Then the Admiral looked at Sub-Lieutenant Nobody, and said, “You are accused of stealing the affections of Commander Kumar’s wife?”

“That’s not true, Sir, I did not steal her affections,” Sub-Lieutenant Nobody said.

“What the hell do you mean it is not true – you were caught red-handed trying to steal her affections,” the Admiral shouted.

“Sir – actually – in fact – it was not me – but it was she – it was she who tried to steal my affections,” Sub-Lieutenant Nobody blurted out.

The Admiral burst out laughing, “Are you some sort of crazy bugger? How the hell can she steal your affections? Tomorrow you will say that a woman can rape a man. Now, don’t give me bullshit. You are up the shit creek, so answer properly.”

“She was drunk, Sir. She wanted me – but I restrained myself.”

“Just tell me one thing, you dirty bugger – why the hell did you stay with her all night? The whole world saw you in there with her – the milkman, the maid, the chowkidar – and, of course, the bloody Flotilla Commander – he has even given a written complaint against you. And, remember, he is a Senior Commodore. It is your word against his – and, in the navy, the senior is always right.”

“Sir, he is the root cause of everything?”

“Root cause – the Commodore?”

“Yes, Sir – he is responsible for what happened.”

“I see – now you are blaming him for your troubles – can you please explain?”

“Sir, I was sitting in Club watching the May Queen Ball when the lady came to me and asked me to dance with her. I told her that I did not know how to dance. In fact I had refused Tanya earlier when she asked me for a dance.”

“Tanya?”

“My daughter, Sir,” the Captain said.

“I see,” the Admiral hid a smile.

Then the Admiral said to Sub-Lieutenant Nobody, “Go on. I am listening.”
“Sir, this lady – she pulled me on the dance floor – and this Commodore tried to cut in – and she told him to go away. The lady – she seemed quite drunk – and she seemed very nervous and frightened – she told me she was not feeling well and asked me to take her to her home on Marine Drive. So I took her in a taxi and dropped her home.”

“It seems a tall story – but suppose I believe you – you dropped her home – so that is when you should have left and come back to your ship. Why the hell did you stay on in her home?”

“Yes, Sir – that is exactly what I wanted to do – but as I was about to leave – the Commodore landed up – and he asked me what I was doing there – and he told me to get out. The lady asked the Commodore to go away – but he insisted on staying – so I asked him to go away – but he didn’t budge – so I pushed him out and I locked the door.”

“You physically pushed him out?”

“Yes, Sir – I had to push him out since he refused to go away on his own, despite the lady asking him to do so.”

“You knew he was a Commodore, a superior officer?”

“Yes, Sir – I know he is the flotilla commander.”

“Then what happened? Why didn’t you leave after that?”

“She asked me to stay. She was scared that he would come back. She said that the Commodore was eyeing her ever since her husband joined the flotilla. And now he had sent her husband away on a course and he was giving her unwelcome attentions – she said he was trying to seduce her – he wanted to sleep with her – she told me that he would come again if I left her alone – so she desperately asked me to stay.”

“So you stayed on to save the ‘damsel in distress’ – come on, young man – tell your story to the marines. You are making all this up to save yourself. I don’t believe any lady would tell a stranger all this.”

“I swear I am telling the truth, Sir – she was drunk, she was very drunk. She told me the Commodore had forced her to drink, maybe even spiked her drinks. I asked her why she went to Club with the Commodore if she knew his intentions and she told me that her own husband was forcing her to sleep with his boss.”

“What nonsense?”

“She said her husband was very ambitious and wanted to get promoted at any cost.”

“I don’t believe all this hogwash.”

“Sir, you will never believe what she told me next.”

“What?”

“She said that her husband is impotent – he is not able to do it.”

“So she wanted you to do it?”

“Yes, Sir…”

“And you did it…?”

“No, Sir. She tried her best – she pulled me towards her – and she kissed me. I did feel tempted for a moment – but I controlled myself immediately. Then we slept, Sir – and I woke up in the morning by the sound of the bell – and when I opened the door I saw the milkman, the chowkidar, the Commodore, and some others standing outside.”

The Admiral stood up, came around the desk, and put his hands around Sub- Lieutenant Nobody’s shoulders.

“Sit down,” the Admiral told Nobody, gesturing towards a chair.

The Admiral himself sat on the desk, and he said, “I have never heard such a tall story in my life, but I like your brutal frankness, and my inner voice tells me that you are speaking the truth. So I will make it easy for you – and for all of us. In the navy we have a thing called honour. We don’t like to wash our dirty linen in public. And the honourable thing for you to do is to put in your papers. I hear you are an IIT type. You will surely get a job – maybe a much better job than the navy. And if you do have any problem, we will help you out.”

The Captain watched in silence, intrigued at the sudden change in the Admiral’s demeanour.

Instead of his normal brash way, in which he treated subordinate officers like dirt, here, he was almost pleading to the Sub-Lieutenant.

He must be under real pressure from the C-in-C to hush up the matter, lest it blow up into a scandal. 

The Admiral reached across his desk, picked up the typewritten resignation letter, and put it in front of Sub-Lieutenant Nobody.

Sub-Lieutenant Nobody read the letter, and said: “I will not resign, Sir – I love the navy – and I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Do you know the alternative?”

“Court Martial, Sir.”

“You will be charged with conduct unbecoming the character of an officer, conduct to the prejudice of good order and naval discipline, maybe even striking a superior officer, and if found guilty, you will be dismissed from the navy with disgrace and locked up in jail for at least three years. And from the evidence at hand – it looks like you will certainly be found guilty. So it is best for you to quit the navy silently, without any fuss, and the honour of the navy remains intact.”

“What about my honour, sir?”

“Your honour – are you crazy – you are up the shit creek – and you are talking of your honour?”

“Yes, my honour, and the lady’s honour. If I resign – it will be an admission of guilt.”

“But you are guilty.”

“I am not guilty, Sir – I did not do anything wrong.”

“Son, don’t be dogmatic. Take the easy choice.”

“Admiral, when they blamed you for that collision at sea accident many years ago, you too could have taken the easy choice, but you elected for a court martial, and you redeemed your honour…”

“Get out of here,” the Admiral shouted, suddenly getting angry.

Sub-Lieutenant Nobody saluted the Admiral.

Sub-Lieutenant Nobody then looked at his Captain sitting quietly on the sofa.

The Captain indicated with his eyes to Sub-Lieutenant Nobody that he should leave.

Sub-Lieutenant Nobody turned and started to walk away – but he stopped in his tracks when he heard the Admiral’s voice.

The Admiral said to Sub-Lieutenant Nobody: “You are up the shit creek. You better choose someone good to defend you at the court martial.”

“I already have, Sir – My Captain will defend me.”

When the Captain heard these words, tears of pride welled up in his eyes.

For a Commanding Officer, this was the ultimate “proof of the pudding” – his officers and men trusted him with their lives.


End of Chapter 1 of Nobody’s Navy by Vikram Karve

To be continued … 

VIKRAM KARVE
Copyright © Vikram Karve 
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Disclaimer:
1. This story is a spoof, pure fiction, just for fun and humor, no offence is meant to anyone, so take it with a pinch of salt and have a laugh.
2. All stories in this blog are a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the story are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Notice:
No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.
Copyright © Vikram Karve (All Rights Reserved)
     
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

MCP and Equal Marriage – Story of a “Male Chauvinist Pig”

August 16, 2015

Academic and Creative Writing Journal Vikram Karve: MCP – Story of a “Male Chauvinist Pig”.

Link to my original post in my Academic and Creative Writing Journal: 
http://karvediat.blogspot.in/201…

Marriage “Quid Pro Quo” 
MCP – Story of a “Male Chauvinist Pig”
A Spoof
By
VIKRAM KARVE

She: Why did you reject me?

He: Because I do not want a working wife.

She: Is that the only reason?

He: Yes.

She: So – otherwise – you like me?

He: Yes – I like you.

She: My parents are very upset that you rejected me.

He: Even my parents are angry with me – they liked you a lot.

She: So – the only reason you do not want to marry me is because I work.

He: Yes. I told you that before.

She: Why?

He: Because I want a full time housewife who will look after me and our children. I do not want nannies to look after our children when they are small. And later – I do not want our children to come back from school to an empty home – their mother must be there to welcome them. And – most important – I want my wife to welcome me home with a cup of tea when I come home from work in the evening.

She: So you want me to give up my career permanently? Tell me – if I do not work – won’t all my professional qualifications be wasted – if I have to just sit at home…? I might as well have done a course in Home Science.

He: That is why I feel that marriage between us is not practicable. You want to pursue a full-time career – and I want my wife to be a full-time housewife.

She: You are a big MCP – a “Male Chauvinist Pig” – but I like you – so I am willing to compromise – if you are also ready for a littlequid pro quo.

He: I also like you – so tell me how we can work it out.

She: I will take a sabbatical from my career for 10 years – maybe more – and I will be a full-time housewife and mother. Then – we will review the situation.

He: Okay. We will see after 10 years.


And so – the MCP and the Girl got married.


12 YEARS LATER

She: Do you remember the conversation we had just before we got married about you wanting a full-time housewife – after which I took a sabbatical from my career for looking after you and our children?

He: Yes – of course I remember.

She: We are married for 12 years now – I have dutifully followed you everywhere on all your postings and been a full-time housewife. I have looked after you – and I have brought up both our children well – one is 11 – the other is 9 – and both are doing well in school.

He: Yes – that’s true.

She: Now it is time for a ‘review’ – a quid pro quo.

He: Review…? Quid Pro Quo…?

She: I have decided to start working again – to revive my career – in fact – I have received a very attractive job offer – very promising career prospects and excellent pay package.

He: That’s good.

She: Yes – that’s good. But you will have to quit your job.

He: Why should I quit my job?

She: Because I want a full-time househusband.

He: Househusband?

She: Yes. I want a full-time househusband. Remember – you wanted a full-time housewife to look after you and the children. You wanted your wife to welcome you home with a cup of tea in the evening when you came back from work – and you did not want the children to come back to an empty home after school. Now – I want the same things – a full-time househusband who will welcome me home with a cup of tea when I come home from work in the evening – and who looks after the children too.

He: I hope you are not serious? Do you really want me to quit my job and become a full-time househusband?

She: Of course I am serious. I want you to quit your job and become a full-time househusband.


And so – I quit my job and became a full-time househusband.

This evening – after doing all the housework – I welcomed my children home – when they came back from school – gave them a snack – and am supervising their homework.

And soon – my wife will come home from work – and I will welcome her with a hot cup of tea.

VIKRAM KARVE
Copyright © Vikram Karve 
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Disclaimer:
1. This story is a spoof, pure fiction, just for fun and humor, no offence is meant to anyone, so take it with a pinch of salt and have a laugh.
2. All Stories in this Blog are a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the stories are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Notice:
No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.

Copyright © Vikram Karve (all rights reserved)



This story was written by me Vikram Karve on May 21, 2015 titled QUID PRO QUO and posted by me online in this blog at url: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/201…

Compatibility Issues in Arranged Marriage – Does Your Spouse “LIKE” You

August 6, 2015

Academic and Creative Writing Journal Vikram Karve: DOES YOUR WIFE “LIKE” YOU.

Link to my original post in my Academic and Creative Writing Journal:
http://karvediat.blogspot.in/201…

DOES YOUR WIFE “LIKE” YOU ?
(or – Does Your Husband “Like” You ?)
Incoherent Gobbledygook of a Veteran on Mystery of Marriage
A Spoof
By
VIKRAM KARVE


DOES YOUR SPOUSE “LIKE” YOU ?

In a “Love Marriage” – the question “Does your spouse like you…?” – is irrelevant.

In a love marriage – the husband and wife marry because they are in love.

And – the very fact that they are in “love” – means that the husband and wife “like” each other – “ipso facto” – because – if you do not “like” a person – how can you fall in “love” with that person?

So – in a “Love Marriage” – it is obvious that the husband and wife like each other.

However – in “Arranged Marriages” – the situation is entirely different.

When I was in the Navy – I saw many marriages where the wife did not seem to “like” the husband – or vice versa.

Of course – these were all “arranged marriages”.

Why go further – even in my case – after more than 33 years of marriage – I still cannot accurately fathom whether my wife actually “likes” me – though – over the years – I seem to have developed a liking for her.

There can be countless reasons why your spouse may not “like” you.

Every husband and wife may have their own unique reasons why they do not like their partner.

However – recently – I heard a phrase which encapsulates all these myriad reasons in a nutshell – “compatibility issues”.


COMPATIBILITY ISSUES

Let me tell you how I heard of this term – “compatibility issues”.

A few years ago – I attended the wedding of a “Techie” Boy – and “IT Nerd”.

Last week – while strolling on Main Street – I suddenly ran into him.

The “Techie” boy was with his wife.

He introduced me to his wife.

His wife gave me a courteous smile – and said that she was glad to meet me.

She behaved as if this was the first time she was seeing me.

I was surprised – since I had attended their marriage just a few years ago – and generally – no one forgets my face – thanks to my handsome beard – and my rather “abrasive personality”.

“Don’t you remember me?” I asked the young lady.

“No – I don’t think we have met before,” she said to me.

“Well – I attended your wedding reception…” I said.

“How is that possible? We had a very private marriage ceremony…” she said.

I noticed a strange expression on my “Techie” friend’s face – as if he was non-verbally telling me not to ask these questions – so I did not pursue the conversation further – and – instead – I suggested that we have some rolls, sandwiches and cold coffee at one of my favourite places just opposite the road.

Once inside the eatery – when the wife was seated – and we were standing near the self-service counter – the young “Techie” told me that this lady was his second wife – he had divorced his first wife (whose wedding I had attended 3 years ago) – and he got remarried to this woman (his second wife) just one month ago.

“Oh – I am sorry – but – what happened – why did your first marriage breakup so quickly – you got divorced within 3 years of your wedding…?” I asked.

“Actually – we got divorced within 2 years – but the marriage had broken down much earlier – within a year…” he said.

“What happened…? What was the reason for your divorce…?” I asked.

“Compatibility Issues,” he said.

What a simple all-encompassing expression for breakup of a marital relationship – “compatibility issues”.

Call it a coincidence – but the very next morning – I read on ‘Page 3’ of a tabloid that a small-time celebrity had said that her marriage broke up due to “compatibility issues”.

I laughed to myself – if “compatibility” had been an “issue” – my wife and I would have been divorced at least a thousand times by now.

But – jokes apart – I seem to have digressed from the moot question:

Does your spouse “like” you…?

As I have said – there can be umpteen reasons why a wife does not like her husband – or vice versa – there may be even more reasons why a husband does like his wife.


WHY DOESN’T YOUR SPOUSE “LIKE” YOU ?

In literature – many stories, novels and plays have been written on this theme.

One notable story I remember on this theme of a wife who does not like her husband is THE WREATH by Luigi Pirandello

I read the English translation of this story in the short fiction anthology GREAT SHORT STORIES OF THE WORLD published by Reader’s Digest.

In this story – a young woman who is 22 years old is married to a 40 year old man – the husband is 18 years older than the wife.

The youthful wife does not like her middle-aged husband.

And – why does she not “like” her husband – who is a kindhearted doctor…?

When the woman was an 18 year old girl – she had fallen in love with a boy.

But – sadly – the boy suddenly died due to typhus.

The same doctor had been called to treat the boy and was by the boy’s bedside when he died.

Stricken by grief – the girl almost lost her mind – and became a recluse.

She refused to get married – and declined many good matrimonial offers.

Sometime later – the doctor proposed to her – and – surprisingly – the girl accepted.

Everyone else was surprised too – since the doctor was 18 years older than the girl.

Soon – the doctor realized that his young wife did not like him.

The doctor loved his young wife – but she did not like him.

In her heart – she still yearned for her first love – the young boy – her dead lover – and she secretly placed a wreath at his grave on every anniversary of his death.

One day – the doctor accidentally discovered this.

What happened next – for that – you will have to read the story.

But – the moot question is:

Why did the young wife not “like” her husband…?

Was it because of the age difference – because her husband was much older than her…?

Was it because of her love affair with the boy – her first lover – who she was unable to forget – although he was dead…?

Or – to use my newly learnt clichéd phrase – was it due to “compatibility issues”…?


CONCLUSION – LIKES, DISLIKES, AND MARRIAGE

In conclusion – Dear Friends – if you are “enduring” an arranged marriage – and if you feel that your spouse does not “like” you – just put it down to “compatibility issues” – and do not bother too much about it – and get on with your “happy” married life…

If you want to enjoy your “Arranged Marriage” – don’t delve too much…

VIKRAM KARVE
Copyright © Vikram Karve 
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Disclaimer:
1. This is a spoof, light-hearted fiction, just for fun and humor, no offence is meant to anyone, so take it with a pinch of salt and have a laugh.
2. All Stories in this Blog are a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the stories are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Notice:
No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.
Copyright © Vikram Karve (all rights reserved)

© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

 

Humor in Uniform – Military Wives – “Lady Like Qualities” (LLQ)

August 1, 2015

Academic and Creative Writing Journal Vikram Karve: The Navy Wife with “Lady Like Qualities” (LLQ).

Link to my original post in my Academic and Creative Writing Journal: 
http://karvediat.blogspot.in/201…

The Navy Wife with “Lady Like Qualities” (LLQ)

It is heartening to see so many “faujans” (Military Wives) in the Blogosphere. 

I am sure there are many talented Bloggers among Defence Wives who write on a variety of subjects. 

I particularly like 3 Blogs which feature interesting posts about the unique life of Army Wives:

1. A Curious Army Wife 

2. Aditi’s Monologue 

3. Half a Cup of Happyness 

I hope to discover more such blogs about “fauji” life as I am sure there are many “faujis” “faujans” and veterans blogging away in the blogosphere.

Browsing through these blogs and reading delightful posts about life of Army Wives evokes memories of some unforgettable Navy Wives I came across in my long Navy Career – so – here is one memoir about The Navy Wife with Lady Like Qualities (LLQ)


THE NAVY WIFE WITH “LADY LIKE QUALITIES” (LLQ)
Hilarious Memories of My Wonderful Navy Life
A Spoof
By
VIKRAM KARVE

Officers of the Defence Services (Army Navy and Air Force) are required to be Gentlemen.

Accordingly  Wives of Defence Service Officers are expected to be Ladies – hence the term “Lady Wife” for Wives of Military Officers.

All Military Officers are required to possess OLQ (OFFICER LIKE QUALITIES)

But do all Wives of all Military Officers display LLQ (LADY LIKE QUALITIES) ?

Let me delve deep into my Humor in Uniform archives and pull out this story for you to enjoy and ponder over:


LLQ – LADY LIKE QUALITIES (A Spoof By VIKRAM KARVE)


Part 1 – THE OFFICER

“Can you carry a small packet and deliver it to my wife?” the officer asked me.

“Sure Sir,” I said.

“Thanks. Just some Ayurvedic Medicines, that’s all. I’ll come on board your ship tomorrow and give it to you,” he said.

“Sure Sir, no hurry, we are leaving day after tomorrow morning,” I said.

The officer was a friend of my ex-shipmate who had been posted to Cochin a few months ago and with whom I was having a drink in the Navy Club at Cochin (now Kochi).

The officer had joined us for a drink – my ex-shipmate had introduced me – and when the officer came to know that my ship was going to Bombay (now Mumbai) he requested to me to carry a packet and deliver it to his wife in Bombay.

Since my ex-shipmate was calling him “Sir” – I too addressed him as “Sir” – and when he came on board the next day – I noticed that though he wore two stripes of a Lieutenant like me, he had the green 9 year long service ribbon.

(Those days it took 3 years to become a Lieutenant – and then one remained a Lieutenant for 8 long years – so there were “junior” Lieutenants like me – and “senior” Lieutenants like him).

Next afternoon just before lunchtime, the officer came to my cabin onboard my ship and gave me the packet.

He also gave me a slip of paper on which was written his home address in NOFRA.

“I am stuck here in Cochin for the next 3 months doing a bloody course,” he complained, sipping his beer.

“Cochin is a lovely place,” I said.

“I know – but my wife is in Bombay – and, as they say, there is no life without wife,” he remarked.

“Sir, we are stopping over for two days at Goa and we plan to reach Bombay by Friday, so I will deliver your packet on Saturday or Sunday,” I said.

“No problem – I have already posted a letter to my wife in the morning about the packet,” he said.

(36 years ago – when this story happened – writing letters was the common mode of communication – because junior officers did not have landline phones at home – so – a “trunk call” was inconvenient – telegrams were for emergencies – and – of course – mobile phones had not yet been invented).


Part 2 – THE OFFICER’S WIFE

On Saturday evening I rang the bell of a flat on the 6th floor of a high-rise building that housed Married Accommodation for Lieutenants.

A beautiful young lady opened the door.

I introduced myself.

“Yes, yes, do come in,” she said in a mellifluous voice, “I got my husband’s letter two days ago – I have been expecting you today.”

“Sorry Ma’am, I could not come in the morning…” I said – and I handed her the packet her husband had sent from Cochin.

“Oh, come on – it was so nice of you to get the packet – do sit down – I will get you something to drink – what will you have?” she said.

“Just a glass of water…” I said – and I sat down on the sofa.

I looked at the lady as she opened the fridge – took out a bottle of water – poured some in a glass – and brought the glass in a tray towards me.

I was impressed by the way she carried herself – she had so much élan, grace and poise.

She excused herself, went into the kitchen and then she came out and asked me: “Come on – have a drink – the bar is over there – and then we will have dinner – you like chicken, don’t you – or are you a vegetarian?”

“Ma’am – please don’t take the trouble…”

“What trouble? There’s no trouble at all – my maid will do the cooking while we talk – in fact it is you who have taken the trouble to deliver the packet and the least I can do is to offer you a meal,” she said.

I felt uncomfortable having a hard drink alone in her company – so I asked for a soft drink – and she had one too.

I think she realized that I was feeling a bit awkward – so she tried to put me at ease.

We talked – we had dinner – and the evening passed in a haze of delight.

As I rode my scooter back to ship I thought about her – she was a perfect navy wife – her social graces, her etiquette, her polish, her refinement, her poise – well, it is difficult for me to describe everything about her in words – so I will just say that she had all the “Lady Like Qualities”.


Part 3 – THE OFFICER and HIS WIFE

A few months later – I ran into her in the US Club Library.

“Good evening, Ma’am,” I wished her.

“Oh, hello – how are you?” she said politely.

Suddenly – her husband came in.

He looked at me – he recognized me – and he smiled and said to me, “Hi – How are you?”

“Hello, Sir – welcome back to Mumbai,” I said.

“Come – why don’t you join us for a drink – let’s go to the bar,” he said.

“Sure Sir,” I said.

I walked down to the bar with the Naval Officer and his wife.

We sat down in the club bar.

Those days – it was the custom that the senior officer signs for the drinks – so the officer signed the bar chit to order drinks.

I noticed that his lady wife was giving me a rather curious look.

I smiled at her.

“Why are you calling my husband “Sir” – you are senior to him – aren’t you?” she asked me.

“No Ma’am – your husband is senior to me,” I said.

“Really? Are you sure? I thought that you are senior to my husband,” she said.

“Of course I am sure – your husband is senior to me,” I said.

“That is surprising. You look so old and mature – that is why – when you came home the other day – I thought that you were senior to my husband,” she said.

I did not know what to say.

I certainly did not look that “old” – as if I were an elderly senior citizen.

But with my copious beard – bulky body size – and rather podgy physique – I certainly looked older than my age.

So – I said, “ Yes, Ma’am – you are right – I do look a bit older than my age – and many persons do think that I am more senior than I actually am – in fact – once a senior Lieutenant mistook me for a Lieutenant Commander – and he was surprised when he saw me in uniform next morning.”

“Oh – all that doesn’t matter,” remarked her husband, the senior Lieutenant.

It may not have mattered to him – but it did matter to his wife.

As far as his wife was concerned – it was obvious that my inter-se seniority with her husband did matter to her.

The moment she realized that I was junior to her husband – her demeanor towards me changed drastically.

Earlier – she had treated me with courteous obsequiousness – on the day I had visited her home when she thought that I was senior to her husband.

But now – the moment she realized that I was junior to her husband – her behaviour changed totally – and she was cold and frosty towards me.

The disdain with which she ignored my presence – her scornful vibes – all this made me feel uncomfortable – and I excused myself from their company after a drink – saying that I had to go somewhere.

On my way back to the ship – I had a big laugh.

It was evident that her “Lady Like Qualities” – her LLQ – was quite selective.

Yes – she certainly had selective LLQ.

In fact – to put it bluntly – this Naval Officer’s Wife was lacking in “Lady Like Qualities(LLQ)

Her Naval Officer husband may have been a “Gentleman” – but she certainly did not display the attributes of a “Lady”.


Epilogue – LADY LIKE QUALITIES (LLQ)

THE NAVY OFFICER’S WIFE 

(Hope this is applicable to Army/Air Force Officer’s Wives as well)

Here is quote from a NWWA (Navy Wives Welfare Association) booklet which encapsulates some prudent advice for a Naval Officer’s Wife:

“You don’t wear his (your husband’s) stripes … there is no such thing as a ‘Senior Wife’. There are Senior Officers. They have wives. There are Junior Officers and some of them have wives. All wives are ladies … You will not fawn over others and not expect others to fawn over you. You will be yourself. And your own manners, breeding and natural charm will shine through leaving you with no need for any borrowed stripes or other borrowed plumage”

I have seen many such elegant navy wives who were perfect ladies – military wives who had excellent LADY LIKE QUALITIES or LLQ

Do tell us if you have seen military wives with perfect LLQ?

And also do tell us some hilarious episodes about “faujans” sans LLQ – stories of military officer’s wives who are not “Ladies”

VIKRAM KARVE
Copyright © Vikram Karve 
1. If you share this post, please give due credit to the author Vikram Karve
2. Please DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. Please DO NOT Cut/Copy/Paste this post
© vikram karve., all rights reserved.

Disclaimer:
1. This blog post is a spoof, pure fiction, just for fun and humor, no offence is meant to anyone, so take it with a pinch of salt and have a laugh.
2. All stories in this blog are a work of fiction. Events, Places, Settings and Incidents narrated in the story are a figment of my imagination. The characters do not exist and are purely imaginary. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Copyright Notice:
No part of this Blog may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical including photocopying or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the Blog Author Vikram Karve who holds the copyright.

Copyright © Vikram Karve (all rights reserved)

Revised, Updated and Collated Version of My Humor in Uniform Stories Posted by me Vikram Karve in my Academic and Creative Writing Journal Blog at 6/10/2014 12:09:00 PM at url: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/201…and url: http://karvediat.blogspot.in/201…  and http://karvediat.blogspot.in/201… 

Now Re-Posted by Vikram Karve at 8/01/2015 02:14:00 PM

Classic Wildlife Adventure Film – HATARI – My Favorite John Wayne Movie

July 28, 2015

Academic and Creative Writing Journal Vikram Karve: Movie Memories – HATARI.

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