Auld-Lang-Shine

Should auld acquaintance be forgotten and never brought to shine......... Yep, my razor blade was finally on its short March to the garbage bin. It had ignominiously been hammered and chopped to bits with a wire cutter so that it could never ever make its appearance on a man's razor again.

Rewind to earlier that morning:

"Darling...... how is your razor blade?" This from the bathroom, in my wife's voice.

"It's OK sweetheart, I used it only this morning." What else, it gave me a bloody good shave.

She used my razor just about once a month, to shave her armpit. That's ok, I do the same about once a month too. No hassles.

A small clarification would be in order here. See a razor is generally, regularly used to shave a man's facial hair. The said face tends, over time to get hardened and rugged - that's why that "Rugged" look. The armpit, on the other hand, has very little exposure - any way you see it. Except of course if you work at a swimming pool. Then, of course, it's a case of "armpits to the right of them, armpits to the left of them." You get the idea. Anyway, back to this morning.

Quite a while later, I think Virat Kohli had just gotten out and I was eagerly waiting to see the outcome of the replay when my beautiful wife made her appearance between me and the TV. I hadn't yet seen the replay, so I could not be certain if it was LBW, caught behind, or not out. But when she stands in front of me, the way she was standing, I better pay attention. With all antennae at SAAV DHAAN, I read the signs - Arms akimbo, eyes screwed up, eyebrows scrunched, and mouth a thin red line with the lips firmly between the teeth. Boy, something was amiss, and I was in for it. I sincerely wished I was out on the golf course, three hours play away from home....... Muuuummmmmyyy!

She: "When did you last change that blade?" The ominous tone of voice.

Me.: "Just now......"

She: "Just now...... when. "

Me.: "A couple of days back..."

She: "How many couple of days back?"

Me.: " Just......a..a..." Suddenly it struck me! "The day we bought your new pressure cooker from the canteen! Remember, that's the same day I bought the set of blades too!"

She: Sounding quite incredulous, "When did you say?”

Me.: " The same day we got your new pressure cooker from the canteen". I was quite chuffed that I remembered that.

Thank God, she seemed satisfied, and my interrogation had ended on a positive note for me. That's why I always say, we men got to keep our heads on our shoulders and be positive. Now where were we, ah Kohli's replacement was... the TV screen was again blocked out.... She was back... Yikes! Her arms were further akimbo, and that incredulous expression contained far more derision than here-to-fore.

She: ”When... did... you... say... you... replaced... the... blade... SWEETHEART?"

Me.: ”Eeerrrrrr. The same day we bought your new pressure cooker“

She handed me a booklet. A warranty card. For blades??? No, it was for the damn pressure cooker. She pointed to the rubber stamp and the date stamped on it read 22 November 2017. So her new pressure cooker was actually her old pressure cooker. But in any case, who the devil changes pressure cookers within - well, I counted, Dec, Jan, Feb, Mar - 4 months? This was ridiculous.

She: "That blade in your razor, MISTER, is four months old. How the sh...t do you shave with it?"

Me.: "Oh... That! It works.... It worked this morning!"

That was the coup-de-grace for my "NEW BLADE". God protect blades from wives....

The next morning, the bloody razor slid over my chin as though I had lost my stubble. I checked twice to ensure that the blade was actually shaving me.

The best thing that happened through all this drama was that we beat Srilanka - or was it Bangladesh - by that last ball six...... Which I, unfortunately, did not see.