Manju

Manju is the name of my sister-in-law. Her real name is Manjurshree. But when she came into our house, there was already a Manjushree (my husband's elder sister who is now married into a contracting-family).

So we changed the bride's name. She became Manjula. When her parents visit, we even call her her Manju so show off to her parents how fond of her we are.

Anyway. So today she asks me, "Looks like the milk is not boiled." Because there is no vessel in the sink and ayah has not come."

So I said, "I washed it and kept it back. In the morning when you were sleeping."

This silenced her. Sleeping is anti-virtue almost like bad city-girls in MTV who ride at the back of car lying down and sticking out a leg in the window for fun.

What thoughts you have started having these days, my husband says. So I say, I always had them. How would you know? Not like I knew you before we got married. You were always talking about your sister's baby son and what-all he does. As if he was the first baby that ever walked.

Why are you so bitter, he said.

I said no I am good. See, I even stitched a parrot on a net-cloth last week. And now Mummy has displayed it in the dining-room.

I hated sticthing the parrot. But Manjushree didi was visiting last week with her spoilt 1 year old son so I thought- better to stick the needles onto a cloth than in the skin of a child. It is more useful and the cloth will not cry loudly and make more noise.