This is the second part of a series. The first part is here.

Harry Potter has this really cool toy that I’d love to have. I think it’s called the invisibility cloak. You can put it on and simply disappear. I desperately needed one of those because my Vegetable Hydrabadi Biryani was looking more like a bomb than like food. I needed an escape plan.

I evaluated the situation and concluded that my options at this point were:
Option 1:
Throw the mess out of the window, and say “I ate it all because it tasted so good” and hope the wife buys it.
Option 2:
Run across the hall, out of the door into the street, and go into hiding for a few months.

At this point, option 2 seems more attractive. Just as I’m trying to see if the front door is bolted, the wife finishes talking on the phone, and is coming back into the kitchen.

Me: “No no….Why don’t you call all your other friends?”
Wife: “What’s that smell?”
Me: “That’s my new deodorant. Do you like it?”
Wife: “Something is burning!”
Me: “That’s you being jealous because I can cook better than you.”
Wife: “It’s coming from the kitchen”
Me: “Is that a new dress you’re wearing? It looks FABULOUS on you!”
Wife: “What have you done?”
The wife definitely knows something is wrong. It’s hopeless. I’m dead.

“I …err…. I think I’ll go check my e-mail … or something”. I try to make my escape, but before I even get out of the kitchen, all hell breaks loose…

Wife: “OH MY GOD!!!!”
Me: “I beg your pardon?”
Wife: “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”
Me: “You mean to the biryani? Not much….you see…The garam masala… …I… I didn’t know…”
Wife: “DID YOU PUT ALL OF IT INTO THIS?”
Me: “There’s still a little bit left at the bottom of the pack, if you want some more…”
Wife: “ARE YOU CRAZY? What’s the MATTER with you?”

What followed were a series of explicitives that are best left unsaid. There were a few in there whose meaning I was not clear on, but decided that this was not the best time to ask for clarifications. After much monologue, the conclusion was that I was a stupid idiot that could not understand even simple instructions. That seemed reasonable to me, and I agreed with the wife’s conclusion. That seemed to calm her down a little bit.

Wife: “What are we going to eat now?”
Me: “We could still order pizza.”
Wife: “I WANT TO EAT HOME FOOD!”
Me: “Yeah, don’t worry, they’ll deliver it home.”
Wife: “NOT LIKE THAT!”
Me: “Hmmm…..”

The wife now decides that we will go to her mom’s house, where we can reliably get home-cooked food. My protests are duly ignored, and we end up in the car, on our way to their house. It’s a short 20-minute drive, and during that time the wife gives me the silent treatment.

We land up at their house. Her dad opens the door.
“Oh, hello?” he says
“We’re here for dinner because a certain someone managed to screw up our dinner”, the wife says pointedly.
“Oh! You should have called. But that’s OK. We’ve just ordered 2 large pizzas! That should be enough for all of us. Come on in!”

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