The Trick that Memory Plays

I have an awfully bad memory. I would even forget the face of the man I had met a couple of hours before. I had been put to embarrassing situations quite a number of times when I had failed to recognize my intimate friends of yester years. The most unfortunate thing happened one day when in spite of my best mental efforts I failed to place a lady who behaved rather quite intimately. Later on I recollected that she was my sweetheart for quite a number of years and I had in fact vowed not once but several times to love her not only in this life but also in all other lives to come.
But the most terrible thing took place a few days after my marriage. Mine was an arranged marriage in typical traditional Indian way. My parents saw the bride and selected her. Just before the final consent was given I was allowed a brief glance at my would-be-wife in a nearby temple. Fortunately she was pretty looking and I just nodded my head to my mother. After marriage, both of us came to stay in the town where I had a government job.
Just a few days after our stay in the town, that terrible calamity took place. It was a Saturday afternoon. We were watching T.V. in our bed room. It was an interesting program and we were deeply absorbed in it. Just at this time the buzzer sounded and I got up to open the door. I found an old man standing outside with a small briefcase.
I asked him, “Whom do you want?”
The old man did not reply, but merely kept on staring at me.
I got annoyed, for I was missing the precious moments of the program. I almost shouted at him, “Yes, whom do you want please?”
The old man still did not utter any word. It seemed to me either he was totally deaf or a complete idiot. When again I persisted with my question, he appeared completely confused. He was going to utter something when my wife, being curious, came out to find out what was going on.
She came and looked at the old man and at once gave a cry of delight. Then she went and touched his feet.
By this time I could know what a terrible blunder had I committed. He was my father- in- law .I was totally lost and stood at a distance like a guilty child. After some time some practical sense dawned upon me and I came and touched his feet.
My father- in-law stayed for a couple of days with us. Immediately after he left, my wife went into a prolonged period of sulking because I failed to recognize her father. Only after I assured her several times that this would never be repeated, she came out of her sulking.
However to prevent me from committing any such blunder in future we decided that we should have an album. In that album we kept the photographs of all her relatives with their names and the status of my relationship with them neatly written below. Then I went through the album everyday as a sort of exercise. Within a few days I was able to remember and recognize the whole lot of her relatives. She also put me to tests several times and was satisfied with my performance. I even could come out with flying colors in practical field. One day when one of her cousin brothers landed at my place I could immediately recognize him by tallying his face with the photograph in my album. And once I recognized him, I conducted myself grandly. My wife was also immensely satisfied. I was much relieved being now pretty sure of my cognitive faculties.
Some days after, my wife went to her home to stay for a month. I was all alone in our house. It was then that the most terrible incident took place.
It was around evening and I was relaxing in the balcony of my quarters. Just at this moment some one pressed the buzzer. I was feeling exhausted after a day’s hard labor in the office and was in no mood to get up. When the buzzer buzzed for the second time I got up reluctantly and went to open the door.
As I opened the door, I found a woman waiting outside. She smiled at me. I tried to place the woman; but in the gathering darkness I could not. She was definitely not one of the relatives of my wife. I guessed she must be one of her friends who was staying in this town and of whom my wife had spoken to me a couple of times earlier.
That woman still kept smiling at me .Then I said, “Sujata (my wife’s name) is not at home. She has gone to her parents. She’ll be back day after tomorrow.”
Hardly had I finished, the woman’s smile vanished and in its place an unspoken sorrow made its mark. She looked at me as tears started trickling down her cheeks.
I knew there was something terribly amiss somewhere. Suddenly a thought struck me. I came closer, peered at her, and discovered that she was, alas, my wife! I took her in my arms and exclaimed, “Darling, Why didn’t you say that you had come?”
My wife cried out, “Need I tell you who I am?”
I felt like a condemned criminal. I had never expected my wife to come on that day and moreover, her photograph was not there in the album. My memory once again played its dirtiest trick on me.
But not to be tricked once again, the next evening I took an enlarged photo of hers, hung it at a prominent place on the wall and wrote below, ‘MY WIFE’.

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