The strains of Lara’s Theme interrupted her thoughts when Vishakha was hands deep in soap suds.She was also deep in thought thinking of what she was going to wear that evening. Prashant was out of town and coming back just in time to catch the last few hours of their wedding anniversary and had promised to take her out to “Mainland China” her favourite restaurant. Her heart sank as Lara’s Theme persisted till she quickly washed off the soapsuds. That particular ring tone was assigned to Prashant and she dreaded this call saying that he’d be late or worse still, it was called off because…………

Pushing back her hair and quickly wiping her hands on her apron, she grabbed the phone before it stopped ringing.

“Yes,” she said hurriedly, a bit curt may be?

“Hi sweets,” whispered Prashant conspiratorially, ” I’m in a meeting just now. Getting terribly bored and thought I’d call to say I love you. Can’t wait for this evening. Bye, darling!” and he put down the phone before Vishakha could even say Hi. Why didn’t he What’sApp or even SMS, she thought a bit annoyed at having to leave the washing half way and yet flattered to think that he thought of her during an important business deal. Obviously their tenth wedding anniversary was a big deal for him too! As she went back to finishing the task on hand, her heart began to feel lighter. There was a strange kind of warm happiness enveloping her.

Later that morning she went down to  the kindergarten round the corner, Twinkle Toes, with a big grin on her face to pick up her son.Tinku  who came running to her with an exuberant  “Mama!” He hugged her knees so tight that she almost toppled over. “I love you sooooo much,”  he said as he plastered her face with a thousand kisses when she picked him up. 

“Mama, today Pinki aunty said I was her pet,” and he went on and on about how wonderful his day in school was as they settled into the car. She put on Tinku’s favourite CD, and they sang along as they went home. 

The rest of the day went off perfectly. Tinku didn’t make the slightest fuss as he had his lunch, played ever so sweetly with her before he nodded off for his afternoon nap. Vishakha was in bliss. What more could she ask for she thought as she felt Tinku’s soft body cuddled up to her. 

At five o’clock when Tinku went down to play in the garden with Bai, she decided to get ready for her anniversary dinner. She quickly wiped off the chipped nail polish and dipped her feet in a basin of warm water to give herself a home-made pedicure. Andrea Bocelli‘s deep, seductive voice was playing on her CD player and soon she began humming his songs, transported back to their honeymoon in Tuscany. Those were the ten best days of her life, driving through the country side, stopping for the night at quaint little B&Bs, discovering small little trattorias in the ancient towns. Aaah, those truly were the days, she thought as she massaged her feet with the special foot cream she kept for days like this. She still had an hour before Tinku came up and she enjoyed her leisurely bath still accompanied by Bocellis’ mellifluous baritone. 

With her makeup in place, she kept out her freshly ironed sari which she was going to wear after Tinku’s dinner and bathtime routine. That evening Tinku dazzled her with his good  behaviour. He downed his dinner in a trice with only one session of storytelling. Nor did he linger over his bath and make a fuss to say good night to his bath toys. “Mama, what are you wearing tonight?” he asked curiously.

“I’m wearing that purple silk sari that goes swish,” she said and watched his eyes twinkle in appreciation.

“And will you put your perfume on me so that I can smell you forever and ever?”

“Of course darling,just let me get ready and I’ll dab some near your ear.”

She put on her lipstick when the doorbell rang. Vishakha rushed to open it. It must be Prashant, she thought  and her heart began to thud at the thought of him standing there with his customary bouquet of red roses.

It was the Bhaiyyaji from next door who put out his hand with a steel catori, “Memsaabji, thoda jaman milega?”

Vishakha could scarcely hide her disappointment as she barked out to the Bai who was pottering in the kitchen, “Bai, bhaiyyaji ko jaman do!” What an idiot, she thought, was this the time to come to ask for dahi?

She hurried back to her room to spray her perfume and wear her slippers. Then she’d be ready for her handsome hero. She grabbed her clutch and looked for the bottle of Chanel No.5  that she’d kept specially for this occasion. Hadn’t I taken it out from the cupboard? she thought as she looked at the dressing table. Where was it? 

Just then she got a whiff of the familiar fragrance coming from her bathroom. She went inside and saw Tinku bent over the sink. He was standing with the upturned bottle in one hand and the other outstretched, waiting to grab something. He had tears rolling down his cheeks as he wailed, ” Mama, I couldn’t catch the bubble in the bottle!”