Of all the trips a person takes in his lifetime, very few can have such an impact on one's life than being transported to a mental asylum. Especially when one is completely sane. There you sit at the traffic, watching people all around going to office, mall, school or whereever it is people keep travelling to & fro while another whole realm of reality awaits you, a few miles away.
"That's exactly what I want him to go through!" thought aloud Supriya, as she beat the eggs in a one-quart casserole.
"What?" asked Narain, looking up from his morning newspaper. "You seem to be murmuring quite often these days Supree. Whatever is the matter with you?"
"Oh nothing, here comes your breakfast" said Supriya hastily tossing the omlette alongside the waiting toast. She quickly added the bowl of fruit sitting ready on the tray and placed them in front of her husband.Giving a quick apologetic smile she walked towards the refrigerator to get out his customary fruit juice. Narain stared after her wondering about the sudden change he was witnessing in his wife.
Supriya bought him his juice and quietly moved on to watering the flowers her thoughts still lingering on Sujay. She felt no pity on him, on his abrupt journey to adulthood filled with drugs & affairs, broken marriage & alcoholism. "It would be easier to kill him but to send him to a funny farm will effectuate the punishment he rightly deserves" she thought smugly.
She did'nt notice Narain finish his breakfast, leave the table and walk towards the door. He stopped and looked back to see if his wife would give him a parting glance. But he seemed to have lost Supriya to the withering croton bed.
"Whatever could have got into Supriya?" wondered Narain, walking towards his car in the basement. He tried to recollect as to when he started noticing the apparent change in his otherwise cheerful wife. The dark gathering clouds dulled his mood further.
Meanwhile Supriya blissfully unware of the turmoils Narain was going through, switched on the music system. With "Sweet child of mine" blaring in the background she turned her thoughts to plotting new ways of sending Sujay to his doom. But what if he prefered being fenced inside the sanatorium, constrained by regimes and enjoyed the cult of work therapy?
........to be continued
"That's exactly what I want him to go through!" thought aloud Supriya, as she beat the eggs in a one-quart casserole.
"What?" asked Narain, looking up from his morning newspaper. "You seem to be murmuring quite often these days Supree. Whatever is the matter with you?"
"Oh nothing, here comes your breakfast" said Supriya hastily tossing the omlette alongside the waiting toast. She quickly added the bowl of fruit sitting ready on the tray and placed them in front of her husband.Giving a quick apologetic smile she walked towards the refrigerator to get out his customary fruit juice. Narain stared after her wondering about the sudden change he was witnessing in his wife.
Supriya bought him his juice and quietly moved on to watering the flowers her thoughts still lingering on Sujay. She felt no pity on him, on his abrupt journey to adulthood filled with drugs & affairs, broken marriage & alcoholism. "It would be easier to kill him but to send him to a funny farm will effectuate the punishment he rightly deserves" she thought smugly.
She did'nt notice Narain finish his breakfast, leave the table and walk towards the door. He stopped and looked back to see if his wife would give him a parting glance. But he seemed to have lost Supriya to the withering croton bed.
"Whatever could have got into Supriya?" wondered Narain, walking towards his car in the basement. He tried to recollect as to when he started noticing the apparent change in his otherwise cheerful wife. The dark gathering clouds dulled his mood further.
Meanwhile Supriya blissfully unware of the turmoils Narain was going through, switched on the music system. With "Sweet child of mine" blaring in the background she turned her thoughts to plotting new ways of sending Sujay to his doom. But what if he prefered being fenced inside the sanatorium, constrained by regimes and enjoyed the cult of work therapy?
........to be continued
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