Manju Bal Krishna Panda’s short story talks about a crumbling relationship and shows us the impact of mistrust and lack of love between a husband and wife, written from the man’s perspective.
“True to your name, you have won my heart and trust, Manjeet. Congratulations!”
Hi! I am Jeet. It’s my popular name.
Eight years of sheer hard work had earned me a promotion. Now, I handled an entire floor by myself and the junior colleagues began to address me ‘Sir’. Elated, I called up home. There’s a flurry of activity on the other side: everyone roused, usual greetings and queries about my well- being and finally, Minny was handed the receiver. She’s my wife, slender, medium in height, big eyes, full lips – my Minny! She sounded a little hesitant, a little aloof or ..……No, no, it’s my imagination. How silly of me! The whole family must be buzzing around. I broke the news. “We will be together now; I ll be able to afford to have the both of you here in Dubai. Happy?” Her reaction was subdued; she’s feeling shy, I thought.
Our families lived in West Delhi. Hers was in a small flat with eight people- four siblings, parents ,and grandparents. The bedroom ran into a kitchen and the living room into a small balcony. Anyone would be cagey while having a conversation with a newly married partner there; people were literally bumping into each other at every step. I used to call her on the landline on Sundays when she’s visiting her parents. Cell phones were still a decade away.