Vishal was lonely. Really really lonely. Mona,
his wife of 6 years, had walked out on him last month. Their divorce was
almost final - just a couple of signatures and a bit more than a couple of
bucks to the lawyer – and he would be single again.
Truth be told, Vishal was secretly glad she
walked out. Let’s rephrase that – he was elated! He'd fantasized about that
moment for a long time, but could never muster up the courage to end the
marriage. And then there was the desi family pressure to make it work. Of
course his parents in India felt guilty for shortlisting Mona for him. No
doubt their guilt was compounded by the dowry they had greedily extracted
from her parents.
Plopped on his couch in front of inane late
night TV, he was lost in his thoughts. Sure she cleaned him out; grabbed the
car, seized the house and stole his pride - but he knew it was worth it.
No more fights, no more nagging and no more screaming. Notwithstanding the
relief, Vishal was still lonely. They had had some good moments, although few
and far in between. The sex had been decent. The nights in an empty bed
felt especially solitary.
Beer in hand, Vishal had almost drifted
off when the cheesy late night commercial caught his eye. It was an
ad for a human size rubber doll. Of course they meant it as a sex toy, but
Vishal saw possibilities. He was nothing if not an out-of-the-box thinker.
With a sudden alacrity belying his drunken stupor, he swung into action. The
phone in one hand and a credit card in the other, he frantically called
the number on the screen. They were only too willing to fulfill
his overnight shipping request for an extra $40.
You see, Vishal had a vision. His big plan was
to recreate Mona, but without the negative points. He fancied himself as a
futuristic geneticist who was going to engineer the perfect wife for
himself.
When the box arrived the next day, he excitedly
ripped apart the packaging. He blew up the doll and stared, as his gaze
lingered admiringly at its sexy figure. Mona had started to pack on a few
pounds, and this was certainly an upgrade! However, the blonde hair on the
rubber doll wasn't going to do it for him. He took her over the sink, and
lovingly colored the blonde tresses with a dark shade matching Mona's.
For that matter, Vishal was turning increasingly
uncomfortable referring to her as "rubber doll" or as
"it". Say what you may, it wasn't very respectful. It was decided
that she shall be named – the name chosen was "NiMona". In case
you didn't get it (duh!), NiMona was simply short for "New & Improved Mona".
Vishal decided he couldn't have NiMona lying
around naked all day. He rummaged through old clothes and unearthed a couple of Mona's outfits that she had deemed too unfashionable to keep. After dressing up NiMona in those clothes, he proceeded to apply Mona's brand of lipstick
and perfume on to NiMona. When he was finally done, he couldn't help but stand
back and admire his creation. The rubber doll, er, NiMona bore an uncanny resemblance to Mona. She looked like Mona and smelled like Mona, but did not scowl like Mona. Not only did she not scowl, she didn't nag, shout or
scream. This truly was a new & improved Mona, reflected Vishal.
Over the next several weeks, NiMona became an
integral part of Vishal's life. He couldn't wait to rush home after work
and share his day with her. She always had a smile on, and was such an attentive listener - never
interrupting and never condescending. Sex became such fun again! NiMona was always in the mood! She never complained of a headache, never had PMS
and never complained about his performance - that seemed to last no more than
90 seconds.
Vishal flew to India that summer, so his parents
could meet his new bride. As you can imagine, they were dismayed at
first. But the skepticism quickly turned to delight when they realized she
hadn't even needed an air ticket to travel. Vishal had simply deflated her
and packed her into the suitcase. Nothing thrills desis more than the prospect
of saving a few bucks! As they said, NiMona was "paisa vasool".
Last we heard, rubber dolls are becoming a fad
in India. They are being viewed as a panacea to all the ills of society like
a skewed sex ratio between men and women, preference for male child, dowry
etc. etc. At last count, the number of rapes had dropped dramatically. Or,
it just may be that the rubber dolls are not filing police complaints.
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