The man around the house

Raj Kadyan

Reminiscing is a pleasant pastime. So are events that once spiced up life. During my last tenure, we had five pet dogs. They were all affectionate. Whenever I returned from office, they would jump all over, licking my hands and wildly wagging their tails. I threw an old tennis ball in the sprawling lawn of the 3.75-acre flag staff house. They went madly after it, whooping and barking. The Labrador invariably beat the four Apsos. The latter would snip at his legs in revenge as it rushed back with the prize.

Then I retired. There was no 5.30 pm homecoming. The dogs missed the routine. Gradually, they stopped taking notice of me. Even when I returned from an errand, they remained unstirred. If they could speak, they would perhaps say I was one among them, just eating and sleeping.

The grandchildren loved hearing my made-up stories. With time, they began to grow out of childhood and I could detect a waning interest. Whenever I began a story, ‘But Nana you have already told us this before,’ the younger one would say.

‘Shut up,’ her elder sibling scolded, ‘I don’t remember it. Nana, please tell.’ I knew she was lying, and she knew I knew. But pretence has its charm.

Whenever a valise had to be kept in the loft, the wife called me to do it. I had no difficulty in hauling the 20-kg plus up the ladder. But gradually, I began to feel the strain, though I never expressed it. One day, I noticed the maid’s husband doing it. ‘I could have done it,’ I remarked. ‘Of course, you can,’ the wife said with simulated candour, ‘but Hira Lal just happened to be around.’

We both have a sweet tooth and layer our toasts liberally with jam. Whenever a new jar arrived, it was passed on to me for unscrewing the cap. I felt needed. But one day, my sinews ran out. Instead of opening it physically, I placed the glass bottle upside down in shallow hot water. After a while, the metal cap expanded and came off easily. That routine has since been followed by the maid. I lost my usefulness.

‘Here, please open it,’ the wife said one day, pushing the new maple syrup bottle towards me. As I twisted, the plastic cap came off without too much difficulty. But I pretended and kept applying mock force, even letting out a few audible grunts. I felt great at my success.

The wife has her mahjong group. Whenever they play, I keep busy with my own, in an adjoining room. One day, I overheard them discussing spouses. Quickly plugging in my hearing aid, I stood close to the door. ‘With age, a man begins to feel unwanted in the house,’ I heard her say. ‘The other day, I had taken out a new bottle. I first unscrewed the cap and re-tightened it before asking him to do it. I could see the triumph on his face as he opened the bottle.’

Join Whatsapp Channel of The Tribune for latest updates.