“Where did the milk go?” I said, empty Amul carton in one hand and fridge door in the other. “Back in the cow,” Saurabh said. He sat on th...
“Where did the milk go?” I said, empty Amul carton in one hand and fridge door in the other.
“Back in the cow,” Saurabh said. He sat on the sofa, tying the laces of his new, sparkling white sports sneakers. His fiancée Prerna had given them to him four months ago. Of course, Saurabh is more likely to enter a ladies” toilet by mistake than a gym.
“It’s not a joke, Saurabh. It was a full carton. Now I can’t even make a cup of tea.”
“I had biscuits in the afternoon,” Saurabh said, attention still on his shoelaces.
“And?”
“I don’t like my biscuits dry.”
“You dipped them in a litre of milk?”
“I used what was there.”
I shut the fridge in disgust, threw the empty carton in the dustbin and sat on one of the dining table chairs, staring at him.
“I’ll get another packet later. And as we discussed, let’s avoid talking. Message me if there’s something important,” Saurabh said.
Like a twelve-year-old, Saurabh had stopped talking to me. Even though we lived together, we communicated mostly through messages.
I WhatsApped Saurabh even though he sat seven feet away from me.
“I want milk now. To make tea.”
Saurabh looked up from his shoes to check his phone screen. He saw my message but ignored it. He pulled up his socks,...
