Marriage counsellors might postulate that most of the marital fights arise due to lack of clarity in communication. “A harmless word, pronounced with gritted teeth, or with a pressure cooker hiss may rock the marital boat.” Partha, the founder of our Park Bench Warmers’ club, made this profound statement and added: “Clarity, like charity begins at home.”
Badri pitched in. “Indeed, yes. The other day I phoned my wife to say mother would be visiting us that day. Her reaction was a contemptuous grunt. But when I went home, her face was wreathed in smiles. Gentlemen, this was due to lack of clarity in my communication. I said mother. But whose mother? I didn’t specify.”
Ramanan narrated another incident. “At the Book Club meeting, last week, a woman member tripped over the carpet. I quickly took her to the doctor on my bike and then dropped her home. When I told Shantha, her face darkened, despite her Girl Guide exposure at school. I knew she was getting ready to breathe fire. I added, rather hurriedly, She is a wispy old lady ... must be nudging 80, a replica of your Lakshmi paati. Shantha did a volte-face that would have shamed a seasoned politician. She beamed at me and touched my left shoulder, a feminine gesture of admiration. It meant I had earned one brownie point.”
Partha chuckled: “Even certain sentences are taboo. Let me elucidate. One need not say to the wife, ‘this coffee tastes like dishwater’. She may explode, “Really, I don’t know how dishwater tastes. I don’t drink that. She might even impulsively pour it on your head.”
Instead, you should say, “Hmm ... This tastes just like my sister’s coffee. The replacement cup of authentic coffee would appear on the double, since your attack would deem to refer to your sister.”
“Idli and dosa may create turmoil and tumult if there is ambiguity in deciding the one for dinner,” said Subbu. “Dosa is a loner, prepared one after the other. Idlis are made in batches. Last night when my wife asked about my choice, I said, ‘if you find making dosa irksome, prepare idlis, though I don’t prefer them.” She made neither.
Her logic was, “You said if I find dosa irksome, I can make idlis which of course you don’t fancy. And so, I didn’t prepare either. You are welcome to have the left over curd rice and lime pickle hibernating in the fridge. Check the fine print on the bottle. May be past expiry date. As for me, don’t you know I fast on Thursday nights?”
J S Raghavan
Email: writerjsr@gmail.com