Mr. and Mrs. Rao – Part I

Vasant’s journey to Mumbai was uneventful. He despised travelling to Mumbai on work. It was a crowded city and fast paced. He loved Pune much better. Travelling to Mumbai was still something he could handle, but an overnight stay would unsettle him.

Though Mumbai is home to millions of people, the houses themselves are very small for the majority of the middle class people. Further more, out of many whom Vasant knew in Mumbai … people with large homes did not have big hearts … and people who genuinely welcomed guests with open arms often lived in dingy and small places. But on this visit he was not thinking about where he would be put up for the night.

Mr. Dhoble, the Branch manager of Bank of Maharashtra – ShivajiNagar branch, had called him to his cabin and assigned Vasant some work which required him to travel to the bank’s headquarters in Mumbai.

“But sir …” Vasant fumbled.

“Look here, Vasant.  I know your difficulties. This time you won’t need to scout for places to stay overnight. The bank has allocated a residential guest house to Mr. Rao in Andheri. I have spoken to him already and he is fine with you staying with them. After all, it is a matter of one night. ” Dhoble spoke as if he expected Vasant to crib about the same thing.

“Alright sir” Vasant said as he left the cabin.

Vasant reached Andheri and took a taxi to the guest house. He climbed 2 flights of stairs to see a beautifully carved out WELCOME sign in front of him. He rang the bell and was enchanted by the sound it made. It neither had rung too loudly to disturb the housemates nor too faintly that Vasant himself could not hear it.

Since it was a Sunday, Mr. Rao was at home. He welcomed Vasant inside and showed him to the guest room. Having placed his suitcase on the small table in the guest room Vasant came out. Mr. Rao showed him to the washroom and when he came out offered him a towel. Vasant did what should be done on such occasions, wipe your hands as a mere formality and not go hammer and tongs on the towel.

“Surekha  ...” Mr. Rao called out to his wife.

Mrs. Rao appeared with a tray held in her right hand. The tray had two cups of hot tea and a few biscuits to go.

“This is my wife, Surekha” said Mr. Rao

She hurriedly joined her hands in a Namaste but Mrs. Rao’ sari’s pallu got entangled between her hands because of it.  She left the two men to discuss about official matters and entered the kitchen.

Mr. Rao and Vasant spoke about a lot of stuff. 20 minutes had passed by and Vasant had not yet touched the cup of tea. But what made Vasant feel at ease was that Mr. Rao did not remind him about the same. Vasant picked up the cup and sipped the tea. It was warm and he liked it.

He was a man who believed that .. Taste is not characteristic to a dish or a beverage but to the feeling with which it is offered to the guest.

He glanced around the living room and stopped at a photo of Mr. and Mrs. Rao. It was one from their wedding. He noticed that she had really long hair in the still photo but when he met her a minute ago it seemed like she had cut her tresses short. He thought to himself why would some one who is blessed with such long hair give in to the latest fashion styles and cut her beautiful tresses short.  He was lost in his thoughts when Mr. Rao asked …   

“If you don’t mind, would you care to join me in the kitchen? We could continue to talk while I help Surekha with a few things for dinner”

“Dinner! But there is no real hurry sir” said Vasant, a little surprised.

“We have to hurry, else we might miss it” said Mr. Rao smilingly.

“Do you need to go somewhere?”

“Not only me, have you had to come too. In fact, all 3 of us are going out after dinner”

“Where?”

“To see the latest Laurel and Hardy movie”

“Laurel and Hardy’s latest movie. Hahaha. Us, at this age going out to watch Laurel and Hardy?” Vasant laughed, a little surprised at Mr. Rao’s statement.

“Vasant sir, you are sadly mistaken. Laurel and Hardy movies are not for a specific age but for people of all ages who like to laugh. Please come with me, I will show you their portrait in my kitchen”

Vasant followed Mr. Rao into the kitchen and he was amazed at what he saw in there.

Two life sized portraits were hung on a wall. One was a Laurel and Hardy still from one of their classics and the other showed Lata Mangeshkar at a singing booth.

“Mr. Rao, you are simply great. You have an awesome selection” said Vasant amazed.

“Thank you. I do not have photos of gods and goddesses in my house instead I have these two portraits. And since most of my time is spent in the kitchen, I got them fixed here an not in the living room”

Vasant was lost in these thoughts, when he couldn’t help observe the efficiency with which Mr. Rao took to prepare Chutney. He neatly grated the coconut without even a small portion of it falling out.

Then he mixed the grated coconut with the other ingredients in a food processor and made nice and fresh chutney. Vasant was clearly impressed when Mr. Rao then neatly washed the plate and the grater and kept them in their places. He then went on to cut vegetables while talking to Vasant.

Vasant casually glanced in the direction of Mrs. Rao 

Vasant did concur that, if and when a few people are invited home the lady of the house does need a little help in preparing a few things. But this never happens in front of the guests. This is also true with men who boast that they never enter the kitchen no matter what.

Mrs. Rao was also helping her husband. Fetching a few things he needed to help her out and in doing so at one point of time the pallu of her sari drifted a little, just for a second. But that one second was enough for Vasant to observe that Mrs. Rao’s left hand ended at her wrist.     

Mr. Rao’s ‘Most of my time is spent in the kitchen’ now started sinking in. Vasant’s mind was now disturbed. He excused himself and went out to the balcony through the living room. 

Mr. Rao also came out to join Vasant in the balcony. Unable to control his anxiety, Vasant asked Mr. Rao, “Sir, if you don’t mind could I ask you a question?”

Mr. Rao simply Hmmm’d in approval.

“Did the tragedy with Mrs. Rao’s hand happen before the wedding or after it?”

“Hmm. I knew you would ask this question. The tragedy happened before the wedding.”

“Sir, You are a brave man. You still approved of her and went on to marry her. It is really commendable. Could I please ask you another question, if you don’t mind?”

“Go on”

“I noticed that Mrs. Rao had really long hair when you got married. What happened?”

“Ummm.. I had only one wish that the girl I get married should have really nice and long hair. The problem is I got promoted and so there is a lot of touring that I need to undertake. There isn't time enough to neatly plait them anymore” said Mr. Rao in a resigned tone fighting tears. 

Vasant’s mind grew restless as he got the answer to his question, about Mrs. Rao’s hair.

The problem with such questions is that when you get the answer you simply have to take the answer. Generally, we search for some kind of an assurance and a calming influence with an answer. But when you do not get that you do not have a choice in selecting what you want.     

    

Part II : http://einzweidrei.blogspot.de/2012/11/mr-and-mrs-rao-part-ii.html