A swordish wife

 Bunna has an avant-garde, sharp-edged wife. He has been a withdrawn youth but at last fate has feted him with an instrument to beat his brooding self trapped inside a recalcitrant persona. He is safely drafted into matrimony, having hit the jackpot to get a wife at last. There is no scope for any sort of discontentment now as long as there is a wife. So now as a young man, looking for the satiation of the customary desire, he easily gets what he needs at this stage of life. These are bewitching days suffused with enchantment of flesh. Life seems a cakewalk with varied compilation of the much-touted sense pleasure; a kind of true-to-life tenderness blooming like lotus among the mud of tyranny and suffocation.

Mostly all relationships carry love-hate shades. Apart from the usual recreations and raptures, his wife’s requirements but cover a broader horizon. She is very quick to hit the belligerent trajectory. She sandblasts her husband, so much so that hers is a legend-spinning persona in the neighborhood. Although evocative and vivid in her fun-games with her husband, she scratches his face and spits at him when she suffers from the fits of her volcanic temper.

He is receptive to all this with a wobbly cuteness. He carries an ironic, wispy half-smile. As she gallantly takes a crushing grip at the last traces of his freedom, he coolly bears all this, knowing fully well that this is the investment he has to commit in lieu of all that he needs. In fact, he considers himself lucky to have a wife. He is the only one fortunate enough to get a wife among three brothers. He is wise and understands that if he reacts, on the spur of an anarchist moment, his grip on matrimonial pleasure may be gone with an extraordinary twinkle. So he is joyously yoked into the affair with a womanly compliance. I find him pretty strong willed in this, a sort of strong-charactered guy who is compellingly consistent in his demeanor. 

He works in a needle-making factory. It’s a very careful work where you cannot afford to be in estrangement with caution even for a moment. In this way, he is completely used to needling by his perk, petite, curvaceous, young, temperamental wife. On a Sunday, he lets his guard slightly down. It’s late morning. He takes few pegs of the cheap desi liquor, offering one to his razor-sharp wife also. A romantic Bollywood song then shatters the neighborhood walls. It’s eroticizing and exoticizing romance beyond limits. The exquisite lyrics carry their sensuous notes with incorrigible loudness. The locality’s peace lies in shambles, almost in disrepair.

The frivolous notes sneak into serious corners. Someone is in the middle of an online examination going. Bunna and his sharp wife are caught in dulled, gyrating moments, as a prelude to their tumbling fight in the bed, by the complainant who arrives at the door of their small upstairs room in their tiny house. This is a clear KLPD. Her romantic energies then change to vendetta against her husband. He is sympathetic to the complaint raised by the neighbor and hence lowers the volume. Now the sizzling energies in the razor-sharp wife need an escape medium. She pounces upon her husband calling him a floundering sissy and coward who pees at the instructions of ever-exploiting neighbors. The volume of sound stays the same, as loud as earlier, just that now it’s the wife raising a storm.