Manic Monday

Written by Dr.Laxmi Iyer

“Cheers! “ said Phillip Chang.

“Cheers! ", said Pamela Chang raising a toast to the red wooden cupboard to her left.

“Let’s do something different to celebrate our 15th wedding anniversary".

“Like what?" asked Pamela.

“What’s the matter, Pam? "?

She tried hard to conceal the vacuumed, washed out feeling. Huge, tidal waves of tears threatened to gush out.

Champagne glasses clanked.

She stayed up all night watching films on television so that she could have space for herself, some time to think.

A typhoon of anger, hurt and betrayal boxed its way into her wardrobe.

She had always felt proud that her family was a perfect model of the happy, integrated Chinese American family.

She had been proud of her marriage.

Phillips was a perfect husband.

No tales of philandering...no unhappy ghosts of old loves floating around...no deceit...no chain smoking, no alcoholism, no fights...no one night stands.

They were actually happily married! A rare and endangered species in these modern times.

Then what was going wrong now?

Why had Phillip brought a dozen shirts of different colours and 7 different bottles of perfumes, 20 new instrumental music Cds, 5 new pairs of matching coloured shoes and socks....all within a fortnight.
He had jokingly told her, “I feel like wearing one solid colour for each day of the week".

The man who always wore brown, coffee and grey was now wallowing in bright blue, orange, purple, yellow, red, white, green, pink, floral and striped prints...and what was worse, he was actually spraying perfume on little spots which he circled out with a marker on his palms and soles…stinking of perfume. Aaagh!

Then, just before he left for the day, he would hug her; tell her “I love you!”...and then draw suspiciously closer and whisper out…" never been more in love with you than now" and then spray a generous dollop of perfume before vanishing for the day.

The pits of ridiculousness was that he had started keeping a diary of what colours and perfumes to wear on which day and what music to play on which day. This was downright crazy.

This was the first time in 15 years that Phillip hadn't confided to her.

Perhaps, he was playing a practical joke on her....She smiled at the thought...and then ran quickly to the cupboard to see the latest entry in their fantasy scrap book.

There was no entry there.

The day they were married they had sworn to one another that they would confide to each other their fantasies too!

So, from that day on, 15 scrap books of fantasies had taken birth.

What on earth had happened to Phillip?

She knew he had a manic depressive aunt....but still that was no explanation.

The man who could never wake up before eight in the morning was now bouncing around like a spotted deer bursting with energy at six in the morning.

This was weird.

Before they had got married they had agreed to have an open marriage.

The funny thing was that the moment they had agreed to this, an invisible law of indirect proportion had swung into operation. The more open their marriage, the higher their fidelity to one another.

A code of respect bound each other. They had never betrayed each other's trust.

She knew all about the women Phillip found attractive. He would always tell her about them. They would happily laugh in mutual understanding...sharing a happy camaraderie.

Married at 18, they had just completed 15 years of joyful togetherness.
The Changs had two kids to whom they had given rather different names - Celestine and Isis.
She, Pamela Chang, suave confidante and advisor to hundreds of young women in the university town where they lived had to wake up to a brutal injustice.

Whom was she going to turn to for guidance?

She sighed.

Whom could she talk to about this? Not her mother. She had run away from home.

Her mom, dad and her elder sister would be only too happy to tell her, “We told you so! Now, pack your bags and come home! ".

Like in the movies, the first thought that came bounding to her head was, “Hire a detective and catch Phillip red handed ". Then, like a disoriented paranoid, she thought to herself, “What if the detective sneaked up on her and told Phillip about it or started inventing stories....creating trouble where there was none".

No! She said, whatever it was, she had to find out the truth herself. And suffer in silence.

So, it was that one Monday morning, at 6 past five, Mrs. Pamela Chang, torch in hand, decided to shadow her husband.

She was surprised to see Phillip walking instead of taking the car.

She saw him walk into the woods and then enter a cottage with a red roof.

Pamela deftly climbed up the ledge and peered into the room.

What she saw horrified her so much, she fainted.

The next thing she knew, she was lying on the bed in Albert’s house. Phillip and his friend Albert were smiling at her.

“I just quit my job Pam. Albert and I are developing some new products - new toys and games for cats. We are studying cat psychology. Albert asked me to promise him that I would keep this ultra confidential. I was meaning to talk to you about this…I mean….I mean… I am sorry Pam, I couldn't tell you about this new venture because of our agreement".

Pamela remembered their agreement and her words pronounced 15 years ago a day before they had exchanged wedding vows.

“Phillip, do you promise me that you will never be an entrepreneur or have cats as pets. My family went into financial ruin because of our entrepreneurial instincts and I am terrified of cats. You see I have a phobia of cats. "

Screaming loudly, Pamela passed out again.

The reason that she passed out a second time was because Phillip had forgotten to lock the bedroom door. The living room door was wide open.

Three dozen cats had just bounded into the room mewing loudly...jumping onto the bed where Pamela was sleeping.