Mrs Funnybones by Twinkle Khanna

Author:Twinkle Khanna
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9789352141289
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2015-07-17T04:00:00+00:00

As I make a mental note to go everywhere with my hands perched on my midsection, I begin to wonder will I truly look wonderfully lean or will I be giving people the idea that I have a bad stomach ache?

7.15 p.m.: I want to do something simple tonight, and when our son suggests that we go to the cinema with the family, I am more than happy.

8.30 p.m.: I walk out of the house having hurriedly thrown on my blue worn-out kurta; am carrying a bright yellow bag (which clashes terribly but I am too lazy to change it) and not a slick of make-up.

8.45 p.m.: Hmm . . . The kids are eating Bavarian chocolate ice cream, and tired of being deprived, I, too, have one. My niece is eating a chicken burger, so I have one, and the man of the house orders some bhel, so I have some too.

This is almost more food than I have consumed in the last two weeks, but I think sometimes you have to eat till you burst, the same way that you need to laugh till tears roll down your face.

10.30 p.m.: The movie is over and all I want to do is fall on my bed and hope I am able to digest a quarter of what I have eaten. The man of the house walks me to the elevator and then suddenly decides that he would rather run down the five floors. I can’t seem to see the rest of the family, so I take the lift down humming some tuneless song. I walk out to the car only to almost fall down as a dozen flashbulbs go off in my face.

For anyone who has ever thought that these encounters with the paparazzi are pre-planned, kindly use some common sense. We have some sort of vanity as well and allowing yourself to be photographed in a state that you would not want to put up on Facebook, let alone be published in national newspapers, would be rather demented.

10.45 p.m.: I reach home only to find the man of the house perched on the sofa, as he had quickly escaped on his bulldozer bodyguard’s bike, leaving me to face the music. I box him on the head, sulk and go to bed.

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