‘She who must be obeyed’ does very pukka planning of the
trip, and that too well in advance.
She did all the airline booking, train booking, bus booking,
hotel booking all in advance, and left no margin for error anywhere.
‘This is how we will travel, this is where we will stay,
this is where we will wash clothes...’ etc etc. Everything is planned down to the
last detail.
So we first went to Barcelona, and then to Majorca – where she
would tell me ‘Don’t change your underwear everywhere, you idiot – our washing
stop is after Majorca! Why do you need to change clothes anyway?. Why do you need to take a bath at all?’
Every time I tried to change clothes, she would flash her
eyes at me, and I would subside – but since I am an independent strong man, I
surreptitiously applied talcum powder when she was not looking, to hide the
smell. Every now and then, when the wind was in the correct direction, the
whole Spanish populace would start sniffing suspiciously and looking around.
When we landed in Seville, she said to me grandly – ‘We are
in the Youth hostel today, and they have a Laundromat, so today is washing day!’
Hallejulah! I said and handed over the clothes, and soon we
were again knee deep in clean clothes.
‘Next washing stop will be in Granada’ she said – ‘Conserve
your clothes till then.’
Granada was only a week away, so I used up my clothes with
reckless abandon, changing clothes every day, and generally living the life of
Reilly.
But due to some reason, She felt too bored to wash clothes
in Granada, and we left the Laundromat unmolested.
‘Hey’ I said in Madrid, when I was rummaging in my bag. ‘Clothes
are over. This is the last clean set.’
‘Don’t worry re...’ she replied. ‘We will wash clothes in the
evening’
In the evening, she started collecting all her washing
clothes, and filled up a huge bag. Then she looked at me
‘Oy. The clothes you are wearing are also dirty. Off with
them.’
‘Eh?’
‘C’mon C’mon, hand them over’ she said, clicking her fingers
like a flamenco dancer.
‘But...but...I will be naked.’ I protested.
‘So? Wrap yourself in the bedsheet and sit quietly on the
bed till I return.’ She replied
haughtily.
‘But...how will I go out?’
‘Why will you want to go out? To drink beer, I suppose.
Nothing doing – just sit here quietly.’
‘I don’t even have any underwear!’ I wailed.
‘Well neither do I. I am going commando to the Laundromat.
Why do you think I am wearing a sweater and a jacket in this heat?’
And such was the power of her personality, that I meekly stripped off and stood nude,
shivering.
‘At least leave me a hankerchief’ I pleaded ‘what if someone
comes knocking?’
‘Tchah’ she said dismissively, and she flounced off, leaving
me unclothed in the room.
I was sitting on the
potty, when suddenly the bathroom door was wrenched open, startling me into an
involuntary bowel spasm. It was She,
returned unexpectedly.
‘Oy!’ I protested. She ignored me completely.
‘OOOOOOOOOOOOO’ she wailed
‘the place was a laundry, not a Laundromat.....AAAAAAA.....she said we
will have to pay per piece.....OOOOOOOOO.....and she can give the clothes only
by Wednesday......AAAAAAAAAAAAAA.....how will our clothes get clean?????......OOOOOOOOOOO...how
can I face my child and mother in law like this......OOOOOOOOOOOO.....my life
is ruined....AAAAAAAAAAAAAA’
‘Here...relax...’ I said, trying to close my sphincter and
maintain my dignity. ‘Close the door for a sec....I will be right out, and I
will find the nearest Laundromat using Google maps.’
‘Oh damn your Google maps....OOOOOOO.....Oh all right. The paper
is there. Wipe nicely OK?’
I came out with dignity, draping myself with a towel, and
found a listing on Google. ‘Let’s try this place.’ I said ‘I will come with
you, to ensure that you find it, OK? Give
me some underwear please’
‘What is the point? You can’t strip off in the Laundromat to
wash your undies, can you? Come just like that.’
‘Eh?’ She just glared at me, and I wilted and put on shirt
and pant, being extremely careful with the zipper.
‘Hurry up!’ she barked, seeing my slow motions.
‘Better safe than sorry re, else it might result in an
unintended circumcision.’
Soon both of us commandos went jiggling across Madrid to
find the Laundromat, walking slowly and carefully, trying to attract as less
attention as possible.
She had her nose up in the air, and it was the only part of her body which was up in
the air.
Unexpectedly, I was very comfortable -I didn’t find much
difference at all – then I realised that it was the great advantage of wearing
boxers – you get used to being alone and unsupported! True Independence! We don’t
need any party’s support – we can form the government on our own! Aam aadmi
party zindabad!'
I tried to tell her this, but she just gave me a cold freezing
glare that said – just shut up and keep walking!
Guided by the great god Google – we soon found the place. How
‘She’ must have suffered the humiliation – not only unsupported and commando in
public, but having to take the guidance of technology and its foul offspring,
and worse than that – having to meekly listen to husband and follow his
directions. ‘Turn right’ ‘turn left’etc
Out of pure habit, she would say ‘No no no no...you are
wrong!’ but having nothing further to say, she would subside into an infuriated
silence.
After what seemed to be a walk across the length and breadth
of Madrid, we finally found the place.
Here at last, ‘She’ could resume her natural authority.
‘Open the washer’
‘Put the clothes in.’
Defence Attorney : My lord, this fellow is lying, when I was busy getting coins for the laundromat, shoving clothes in, turning jeans inside out for better drying, he went off to eat THREE EURO a piece oysters at the next door shop, in addition to minding the clothes, I had to frisk him like airport security guard, otherwise after eating oyster, King Kong would beat his chest in ecstasy and smash his six thousand rupee sunglasses to pulp. Also my lord, he makes it sound like I marched him naked through the streets of Madrid, covering his jewels with what else..... but a smartphone.
He also wanted some achaar, tikat mit and chutney to go with the oysters, and the Madrileno shopkeeper cried boohoohoo and fell at his feet, PLEASE I BEG OF THEE don't pour Tabasco sauce and insult my special Gallego oysters.... while I was busy attending to his dirty underwear, my Lord, I swear he was slurping off oysters!
‘No no no, you moron – that’s not the way to do it...’ and
she would take the clothes out and replace them, exactly the way I had. Being extremely
smart, she had brought along detergent sachets from home, thus saving Euros,
and smirking at me for not thinking about it.
We hung around till the wash and dry was done, and then we
jiggled our way back to the hotel.
Immediately she donned her clothes – becoming visibly more
confident with every article of clothing. It was like Popeye taking his spinach
– one shot of spinach, and he turns into Superman. Similarly, all clothes in
place,and the spine straightened and the eyes flashed once more!
‘She who must be obeyed’ was back!
