Sorting Out Sid Read Online Free Page B

about his getting late or wasting water, or something or the other. He quite liked this apartment – they had moved in only last year, but it did feel like home. It was home, actually – as in owned and not rented. Of course, he thought, scrubbing himself absently with her loofah, the EMI was huge, leaving about four rupees at the end of each month in his bank account. But it felt nice to finally be a property-owner. Of course, it hadn’t felt so nice when last month, during a fight, Mandira had used the unappealing phrase ‘Get your lousy ass out of my house’. He didn’t know what hurt more; her impolite reference to his posterior, which he was actually a little vain about, or the fact that she had referred to his, okay, their house as her own.
    He realized he was brooding on past matters, which wasn’t his style. He also realized that it was rather unmanly to be using his wife’s Dove Shower Gel and loofah, and instead started vigorously rubbing himself all over with a bar of the manly Cinthol. He washed, turned off the shower, and faced his reflection in the mirror.
    Not bad, he told himself as always, flexing his arms in a loose imitation of a bodybuilder. He never actually worked out and so he wasn’t too muscular, but he had been a very active sportsman in college – football, volleyball, the works. So, he still had the lean frame that he knew some people found attractive. He did sometimes feel he wouldn’t mind trading in the ‘boyish good looks’ for something more in the ‘ruggedly handsome’ category. Still, he was lucky he had the high metabolism or whatever it was that helped him maintain the looks despite his sedentary corporate lifestyle.
    He recalled how good-looking a couple Mandira and he made on campus, making waves also because of the fact that he was her junior. They had just looked right together. That’s what everyone had always said. Well, he thought, they still looked good together even though she often made sarcastic remarks about how their marriage had clearly aged her more than him. Once, he had told her that maybe if she smiled more often she wouldn’t look her age. This thoughtful and friendly piece of advice merely resulted in him having his head bitten off. Anyway, he didn’t see the problem – he thought she should be glad her husband still looked as good in his late thirties as he had in college. Instead, she seemed almost mad about it, getting riled if someone else remarked on how he still looked so young. Whatever, he thought, giving his left arm a final flex. She was just jealous because he had clearly still got it.
    Sid suddenly remembered that it was his day to shave – he didn’t get much growth and so shaved every other day. He paused while lathering and examined his face. Should he perhaps try to grow a French beard? He thought it would look cool and also make him appear a little older. Now that he was thirty-six, he thought, he really should try and lookcloser to his age. He was also trying to establish himself as a leader in the workplace and a French beard would lend him some gravitas, the way his glasses did. And maybe, he thought a little spitefully, Mandira would be happy if he started to look at least as old as she did.
    Now that was a mean thought, he chastised himself as he got dressed for work. It was while he was buttoning his shirt that the thought hit him. Of course – she was angry because she was getting old and she wanted to have a kid before she turned forty. They had argued about it about three months ago, with his saying that he wasn’t sure they were ready yet.
    He rewound quickly through the last few months and realized he had hit the nail on the head! She had become especially cold after that particular argument. Well, he thought, if she hadn’t made such an issue of it, things might have just happened spontaneously. And maybe it wouldn’t have been that bad – after all, he was great with kids. All his friends’ brats called him ‘Sid