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He Does ...He Doesn’t… By - Ranjita Biswas Ranjita Biswas is a Freelance writer from Kolkata, Bengal. She promotes education, specially for girl child through her writings and social activity.

The lunch appointment with cousin Rita this afternoon seemed ill-fated from the beginning. She was in tears; that didn’t portend well for someone married only for three years, and it was a ‘love marriage’ at that. Even my worldly-wise self was rattled: What, already? I patted her comfortingly and tried to gauge the cause of her distress. Mother-in-law trouble? Work stress? To improve her mood, I took out the present I had taken along. It was a pretty butterfly clip. But instead of smiling, she wailed. Two rivulets of mascara-laden tears marred her fair cheeks. This was serious. I, the big sister, must do something about it, I decided.

“Tell me what’s happened. Has Vijay been rough with you?”

“Hoo…hoo…hoo.. he forgot…” More tears.

“What did he forget? Your mother’s birthday?”

“No, mine!” Rita almost collapsed on my lap. This was more serious than I had imagined. How could Vijay commit such sacrilege? He had crossed the lakshman rekha that demarcates what can- be -forgiven and what-cannot- be- forgiven in a marriage –forgetting a wife’s birthday, her sister’s birthday, her parents’ wedding anniversary, and the most heinous of all, own wedding anniversary. For a woman, amnesia like this means only one thing, ‘He doesn’t love me any more!’

But ask the guy, he’d say, “I really didn’t mean to. But you know, while in the office this and that… but I love her.”

Sorry, that won’t do. Women go to office too. But do they forget? You bet they don’t. And please, guys, don’t try to quote Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus either. We’ve read it and if you’re quoting it, you must have read it too, even if cursorily. So, what have you learnt? Okay, women are a sentimental lot. These things matter to them. Anything wrong with it?

And ladies, try tit for tat for a change and forget to wish on “his” birthday and see what happens. That reminds me of my friend Shilpa’s hilarious experience. Hilarious, of course, once it was over.

Her wedding anniversary was approaching but there was no sign from her husband Robin that he knew it. Even though she gave ample hints, plonking herself next to him and assiduously watching on the telly an ad by a card-making company. The theme: hubby forgets to wish wife on the wedding anniversary day; wife frets and cries; in the last moment, he brings out with a flourish better-late-than-never card; she smiles and forgives. Shilpa watched, one eye on the screen, one eye sideways at hubby dear. No hint taken. In fact, he got irritated, “What’s the point of watching these stupid ads?” He snatched the remote and changed to, what else, a cricket match.

Next day, when Robin was home, Shilpa wasn’t there. Strange, she always informed him of her whereabouts. Even her mobile was switched off.

“Where’s mems’ab gone?’

“Don’t know.” the maid answered. He called her best friend Deepa. She was out. Then he called his in-laws’ house.

“How could you?” his ma-in-law said accusingly and bang! went the phone.

What had he done? Robin’s absent eyes moved to the calendar. The day after he was going on tour. Thank God, he’d be back before the India –Pakistan match and could enjoy it at leisure at home. Oh God! There, circled in red was today’s date. The anniversary!

Urgent call to ma-in-law again. Was Shilpa there sulking?

The old lady replied tearfully this time, “No, she isn’t here. She said she needed some solitude to think things over. What have you done? Call the hospitals, call the police!”

Robin knew that his ma-in-law was a bit hyper, but then his eyes blurred. Wasn’t there a news in the morning paper about an unhappy housewife committing suicide? Has Shilpa…?

Frantic calls followed to everyone in the friend circle. Men sympathised, “We’re in the same boat, brother.” Their wives accused in unison: “How could you forget?”

But no Shilpa yet. At last, he accepted it. He had to go to the police station. To report to the missing persons’ desk.

The bell rang. Robin’s heart sank. The police with the bad news! But it was Shilpa, smiling, looking pretty in a new hair- style.

“Where have you been?” Robin croaked, his limbs like jelly.

“Oh, since you forgot it’s our anniversary, I treated myself to a movie and a fabulous get-together with my old college friends at the new cafe. It was great fun.”

Needless to say, Robin never forgets the anniversary these days and insists on taking Shilpa out or throwing a party for the friends. Harmony prevails in the house. Good that Shilpa doesn’t know that Robin has instructed all and sundry -his secretary, sister, best friend’s wife, even me, to remind him of the occasion way ahead. That’s a secret we’ve vowed to keep for greater good of humanity.

But now what to do with Rita? I decided to confide in her my own story. Our 10th wedding anniversary round the corner. Wanting to give hubby a surprise, one month ahead I approached the lady who was reputed to be a whiz with knitted sweaters

In the morning of the D Day, hubby exclaimed happily at the breakfast table, “Why, my favourite Marble Cake! What’s the occasion?”

New sweater, gift-wrapped, was the answer. To this day, I remember the look of incredulity, consternation and utter helplessness in his face.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry.”

No tears, no accusation of ‘you-don’t- love- me any-more’ from my side, but a nonchalant, “It’s all right. People forget.”

“No, no, this evening we’ll go out. I want to buy you a present.”

“No, no. It’s all right.” By now I was feeling sorry for him.

To end the story, I had to concede, and let him splurge on…? That’s a secret.

Rita squealed with laughter. I was relieved to see her smiling again.

“You know you’ve to be bit philosophical about it,” I told her,. “He still forgets sometimes. But then he even forgets his own birthday unless reminded of it. Frankly, it’s not the end of the world. Take it with a pinch of salt.”

My mobile rang. “Is Rita with you?” It was Vijay sounding very worried.

There we go again!

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