Visa ***

Seeni Uncle. Everyone called him that. In fact, he was Sreenivasan, the manager of the office. But he was disarmingly friendly. He would never raise his voice. He would never dictate work to anyone. He never had to. Everyone in the office, the peon, the dozen or so girls who worked as clerks and the lady accountants did their best for him, without being told. Other than Seeni Uncle and the peon, Marimuthu, everyone else in the office were females. It was like a family. There was chatter and laughter in the office all the time. And often, Seeni would be in the midst of it. Although he had his own room, the door was always open. And as soon as he had finished off the urgent business, he would saunter out of the office. He would mingle among the staff.

Seeni not only knew every single staff by name, but he knew about their families, their aspirations, their current trials and tribulations- in short – he knew them as if they were his kin. As he spoke to each one, his care and empathy endeared them to him. They loved Seeni Uncle.

Seeni Uncle had one peculiar trait. No matter what subject he started off with, the conversation would soon steer towards one topic. Seeni’s wife Visa. He would paint a beautiful picture of her. The woman of his life. The woman who made him what he was. The woman who made his life worth living. A model wife. Everyone would listen in rapt attention. They marvelled at this divine love they could sense, between Seeni Uncle and his wife Visa. And they would wish one day to meet this extraordinary woman. But none of them had met her.

Soon Seeni Uncle would fall silent, as though immersed in sweet thoughts of his wife.

***

The office staff were leaving. It was after six in the evening. Seeni was always the last to leave. “Must finish my work. And then rush to my lovely Visa!” he would tell them, with a beatific smile.

***

“Late again? I suppose you were gallivanting with the loose girls in your office? When will you ever change ? You are 60! Almost as old as their grandfathers. And yet you flirt with them. Its all my fate.” Visalakshi started as soon as she saw him enter the front door.

“It runs in your family, I suppose. After all, didn’t your sister run off with that salesman ? And your brother? He married that low caste woman. Hmph. கர்மம் … கர்மம் .. என்னோட தலைவிதி … இப்பிடி ஒரு குடும்பத்துல வந்து மாட்டிண்டேன் . (What a shame. Its my fate that I ended up marrying into such a family)”

“வாங்கோ , வந்து தின்னுங்கோ (Come, come and eat).” She threw the plate of rice on the table, scattering some of the cold rice.

Sreenivasan sat down silently, and began eating the rice. He could hear Visalakshi grumbling loudly in the kitchen. He closed his eyes and chewed laboriously. Soon there was silence. He longed to be back in his office. With memories of his beloved Visa.