Ram Raj

Fiction

“When you were a drunkard, you were a much better human being,” said the wife.

The husband was shocked.  He had stopped drinking for her sake.  Just for her sake.  Only for her sake.  Moreover, he had become religious for her sake.  He visited the church every Sunday for her sake.  He mumbled the evening prayers at home every evening just for her sake.  He sacrificed himself, his ideologies (as if he had any) just for her sake.  He had even dared to question the PM, the invincible hero of the country, just for her sake.  He offered to cook too, just for her sake.

“Oh, no!” She said remembering the only time he had cooked earlier.  They had to go out for the dinner. 

“I wish you were just human. Not so rational.  Not so convincing.” She said.

“Give me an hour, will you?”  He asked.

She was ready to give anything for those good old days.

He went to the city and drank just two pegs. 

The breathalyser of the police can smell even half a peg, what do you think?

The police were very happy when he was on his way back home because he narrated his story to them, the story of all the halleluiahs he had sung in order to bring peace in his home.  They wanted only a couple of thousand rupees to let him go without imprisonment in the Ram Raj of the present PM who had even given up his wife for the sake of creating the Ram Raj.  “Better than the original Ram who let his wife burn!” said a cop.

He was happy that money could buy Ram Raj.

“Where were you?” Wife asked imperially as soon as he reached home.

“In Rama Raj,” Husband said. “Do you know, darling, my honey, our PM has created the Paradise for us.  The price of onion has down by one paisa.”  And he gave her the packet of onions he bought from Reliance Fresh.

“O My Love!” Wife hugged Husband.  She hugged the onions. No fire test in PM’s Bharat.