I was subjected to the usual quota of traffic jams while returning home the previous evening. VD was, as usual, was stuck with me beside her. What made the situation worse was the fact ki pet mein jor se choohein (rather haathi) daud rahe the. Groowwwlll...... until it became difficult to differentiate whether the source of that noise was ensuing from my stomach or the bus engine (er.....perhaps I am exaggerating a bit here :D).
I longingly thought of all those things which would be waiting for me at home – and I am referring to food here. With an effort, I yanked my thoughts away from the first part of roti, kapda aur makaan. So.......what else?
VD announced grandly that she was going to puke. No surprises here because she was almost six months pregnant.
I made a mock-horror face and declared, “Nahinnnnnnnnn......you cannot do this to me, VD.”
Fishing for a plastic cover in her bag, VD dryly replied “Do you have any alternatives?”
I took it quite seriously and pondered for a moment before coming up with, “Say VD, would you like to hear a story?”
VD stared at me as if I had gone crazy. Adults do not tell/hear stories or what?
And hence, the story-telling session started. From kings and queens to tigers and woodpeckers, from tales of valour to tales of treachery, from Vikram to Betaal. By the time I reached my stop, I had regaled her with almost four stories.
And she did not use the plastic cover at all.
And I had managed to put aside my hunger for some time – an yuxtremely strenuous task indeed :) !