“What time are we supposed to meet him?” I asked Sidharth Kuncalienker.
It was late Sunday evening, and along with a visiting USAian (the only way I can describe them – almost like an alien ; but not even quite there) friend, we were out to meet someone to buy a few odds and ends. “Seven. We are almost there. It will be a few minutes. We will be well on time.” the husband dutifully answered.”Oh.” I sighed , making my disappointment evident. “What now?” I wonder how husbands cannot decipher sighs.
“We will be on time.”, interjected the friend, “which is nice. Gives a good impression; and in this case a good first impression.” It was true that the gentleman we were out to meet was a decent sort and would surely appreciate our being on time. “Maybe so. We are on time, for this once, by fluke. So you see , it causes an unfair first good impression ; a misleading impression. It sets our future meetings for disappointment, when I will surely never be on time. ”
“I don’t like being on time.” I said. “Once you are on time, everyone expects you to be on time. I am not idling my time that I can always be on time. I have so manyyy things to do.” I dragged the so-manyyyy-things-to-do and sighed.Said husband still cannot decipher said sad sighs.
“Even Big B is always on time. Punctual. Sign of a Man.” says the husband.
I cannot decipher how husbands cannot understand when to keep quiet.
“Let Time come by itself ; I will come by myself. No need to absolutely connect anything.” I asserted my view.
“You are quite an alien.” concludes the friend.
Looks like Time is an Alien concept to me, that is.