"What's the use of regretting now when the birds have already eaten the field? No matter how hungry Bhatanagar ji was, he didn’t have the courage to ask his wife for food. What would she and their son think? After all, they had just finished dinner a little while ago.
Bhatanagar ji was already afraid that his wife might have told their son about his dream; otherwise, he would become the subject of great mockery. If he asked for food now, it would be even worse. What if his wife came to the dining table to serve him again and saw the food he had spilled earlier? His situation would be far worse. It wouldn’t just be a matter of ridicule anymore, but they might even think he had gone mad. The ghost that had troubled him for the past two days—what if they tried to have it exorcised?
No matter, he would sleep without eating tonight. What difference does it make if he misses a meal for one day? His wife fasts often, sometimes without even drinking water. At least he could drink some water. He grabbed the jug and gulped down all the water in one go. His stomach was now full.
He didn’t waste any more time and quickly lay down under the sheet. His wife thought he was exhausted from a day of work, so she decided to let him sleep. She said to their son, “Come on, you should rest too. We’ll talk in the morning.” The son got up, turned off the light in their room, and went to his own room, where he opened his laptop.
As soon as the room darkened, Bhatanagar ji uncovered his face from the sheet. Sleep was nowhere to be found, and the water in his stomach felt like it was on the verge of breaking a dam. He glanced at his wife with the corner of his eye and quietly got up to go to the bathroom. His wife couldn't have fallen asleep that quickly, but she had turned her back toward him, probably trying to fall asleep quickly to avoid disturbing her husband’s rest.
As Bhatanagar ji passed through the gallery, he noticed the light in his son’s room was still on, and he grew disheartened. He had planned to sneak into the kitchen under the pretense of going to the bathroom and refilling the water jug. He would have discreetly searched the kitchen for something to eat. But now, with his son awake, it wouldn’t be right to sit down and eat. If his son heard the commotion, he would come out and see his father devouring food like that. Who knows what thoughts might cross his mind, or worse, he might call out to his mother. Together, they would make a mess of him.
The poor man, hungry in his own home, was prowling the kitchen like a thief in search of food. From a distance, in the dim light, he could see the spilled raita and puris scattered on the floor, making his mouth water. After all, his stomach was full of water.
Finally, an idea struck him. He found the same earthen cup (kulhad) he had used earlier in the evening to bring home some rabdi. A little bit of rabdi was still left in it. He poured some water into the cup, took a sip, and walked into his son’s room, still holding the kulhad.
When his son saw him with the kulhad, Bhatanagar ji quickly said, “You know, there’s nothing like drinking water from a kulhad. It stays cool too.” The little bit of rabdi that went down with the water gave him some relief.
After finishing the water, he threw the empty kulhad to the ground with a loud clatter. He quickly fetched the trash bin and a wiper, muttering to himself, “I should pick up these pieces so no one steps on them.”
With that, he accomplished two tasks at once—he cleaned up the spilled food too. Poor fellow!
(To be continued)"