Jab Saut Kare Karva Chauth

Pop Culture

Jab Saut Kare Karva Chauth

Illustration: Rutuja Patil/ Arré

I

imagined the end of the marriage playing out, as I stared at the ceiling fan swirl at its hypnotic pace. Radha would be dressing up, in all her bridal finery, wearing uske naam ka sindoor in high speed, as Lataji screeched in the background, “Yeh hain mere karam, kabhi khushi kabhi gham.” Radha would put kajal and smile at herself, remembering God knows what moment (certainly not post-coital, since they had never really kissed or had sex). It was more likely, the morning when she put poha in his plate and he held her hand to say, “Bas aur nahi.” And just as she would pick up the channi to see the moon, Rahul would slam the divorce papers on her face, taking off with his lusty secretary.

While Radha had to do something radical to resurrect her dead marriage, I was trying the same on my comatose iPhone 6. It lay sealed in a packet of uncooked rice at this point, having nosedived in a river on my holiday, looking for fresh trout no doubt.

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