Greed and the woman

And so this entire week passed in a haze of coughing like I was trying out for tuberculosis patient role in ancient Hindi Film which used to have storylines, one of those side characters who die dramatically much like the scene where a really scrawny Raza Murad passes out with a rotund and cherubically cheerful Rajesh Khanna singing a really philosophical song which passes over my head…anyway, you get my drift. The left eye ballooned out to obscene levels which then meant I couldnt put in them contact lenses, so all pretences at vanity went for a toss too. Given that with every hacking cough I was spitting up phlegm and, horror of horrors, fresh red blood, I could have even auditioned for a role in Dracula Returns. Yes, I was at my smashing best all last week.

Yes, yes, spent the past couple of days being poked and prodded and Xrayed and blood tested till there is absolutely no blood left in the body, but apparently I can now put the pen aside and let that will I was writing out, with great care for clause and sub clause, and the pondering over intensely over who should get my sole pair of kickass Choos, and who would get my favourite bags, my favourite gold bling Guess, my Fendi, and how I would be mean and nasty, and like the really stupid ad with the sidey characters, will everything to the maid. And then hover around like a fly on the wall during the will reading to note disappointed faces, given that none of them jeans will ever fit anyone I know given they’ve been altered and stretched beyond decent logical sizes. Never mind if they cost an arm and a leg. My book collection, the rest of my clothes, my watch and sunglasses collection. Dammit, I do have a lot to will away in non essentials. And of course, my minsicule collection of jewellery which I would rather give to charity.  Seriously, though, it was, in troth, a liberating experience, I recommend it to all and sundry. Write out your will. You will realise how you actually have nothing to really hold onto except perhaps your spouse and your children.

And of course, given my penchant for high drama, the very melodramatic questioning of the child as to whether one would be missed should one be not around, to which said fruit of the womb replied cheerfully, “No.” Which promptly shut me up from further melodrama, and got me right back to threatening an immediate nasty spanking should he continue to roll around the floor and not write out his alphabets as decreed mandatory thanks to reams of weekend homework.

But, the result of the gadzillion tests show that apparently all the horrific possibilities of life threatening diseases have been ruled out, and the husband has some more time before he can dance on my grave, and chase all the skirts he wants.  Nothing more serious than a minor blood vessel being ruptured in the windpipe due to racking cough, which accounted for raw painful throat, and lack of ability to ingest solids. Which of course, one circumvented beautifully by finding the sort of foods that are amenable to ingestion in mashed pureed state, never mind the calories. Therefore mashed potato with butter and pepper came back into favour. Pastries too. I was sick. I need the health benefits of added calories. And all the comfort food you can think off. Specially, the ones which require no chewing and just simple swallowing. Chicken soup. Yup, corn starch laden type.

I am not even getting me near any weighing scale till the cough disappears. A sick woman’s gotta nurse herself back to health.



About Kiran Manral

Kiran Manral published her first book, The Reluctant Detective in 2011. Since then, she has published eight books across genres till date. Her books include romance and chicklit with Once Upon A Crush (2014), All Aboard (2015), Saving Maya (2017); horror with The Face at the Window (2016) and nonfiction with Karmic Kids (2015), A Boy’s Guide to Growing Up (2016) and True Love Stories (2017). Her short stories have been published on Juggernaut, in magazines like Verve and Cosmopolitan, and have been part of anthologies like Chicken Soup for the Soul, Have a Safe Journey (2017) and Boo (2017). Her articles and columns have appeared in the Times of India, Tehelka, DNA, Yowoto, Shethepeople, New Woman, Femina, Verve, Elle, Cosmopolitan, Conde Nast Traveller, DB Post, The Telegraph, the Asian Age, iDiva, TheDailyO and more. She was shortlisted for the Femina Women Awards 2017 for Literary Contribution. She is a TEDx speaker and a mentor with Vital Voices Global Mentoring Walk 2017.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to Greed and the woman

  1. Gauri says:

    “Minor blood vessel being ruptured” – Now should I go ahead and say “I told you so” 😀

    You go right ahead Kiran and nourish yourself back to good health.
    What I mean is – Get Well Soon !!!!!!


  2. Cee Kay says:

    Awwww seetie! You take care of yourself and give that husband of your a bop in the noggin’. Tell him you need more TLC than just patries and chicken soups. No? Well then!

    I am glad all the horrific test results came back negative. Is the eye back in its socket? How is the cough? Still hacking or is it not-so-hacking now? You said it – that in the end all that is worth holding on to is your spouse and kids. So, now will you pass on your Fendi and the Choos and other not-worthy-of-holding-on-to items to me please?

    No? Well, I tried!

    Now, in all seriousness – take care of yourself, lady K!


  3. NainaAshley says:

    Glad to know its nothing serious. Hope you feel better soon.


  4. DotThoughts says:

    I hear good things about pastries making even the worse cough go away. Get well soon! 😀


  5. Raising T says:

    oh.. poor you.. get well soon… and you woman you… choos, fendi…. ur my idol…


  6. Kiran Manral says:

    Gauri: Thanks G, chatting with you kept me from going on panic overdrive that morning.

    Cee: Will leave whatever you want to you, but for that you have to come over and choose. Deal????

    Naina: Thanks, much better now.

    Dottie: Really? Am speeddialing cakefactory now.

    Raising T: Nah yaar, just overindulgent hubby I owe the labels too. I stick to export surplus.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s