MEN ARE FROM…
By Neel Anil Panicker
“Look, it’s opening.”
Mary lifted the steaming kettle off the gas stove and poured its contents onto two cups.
Then, turning around, she handed one to Avi before asking, “What? what, my dear is opening”.
Avi dipped his lips and sipped hot chocolate coffee sans sugar, wiped clean the cream off his golden hued whiskers, before replying, “Why this act, my dear Mary? You know very well what I’m talking about.”
Mary smiled inwardly while pretending to read the morning newspaper’s headlines. She shuffled through the pages and came to the Sports section.
There it was. On the bottom right hand side, the letters, in bold, screaming out, announcing the start of the Annual Fort Kochi Bike Racing Competition.
How would she have not have known? Hadn’t she seen him slipping out in the middle of the night, and spending hours in the garage?
Once, out of curiosity, she had even peeped through the keyhole and voila! There he was___astride a bespoke red and black sports bike, the one he’d ordered all the way England, circling the cavernous space just beyond their garden.
‘You could have bought one from the local sports shop,’ she had later chastised him.
“They don’t have what I want. They economize on steel, don’t boast of a high brake and gear level system and worse, they don’t even have titanium sprockets and…”
‘Ok, okey…I got it’.
Men and their passions. She could never ever fathom it.
Mary looked at her husband and smiled , this time a tad benignly.
‘Go ahead, and enjoy if that’s what makes you happy.
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