Could you get a saree with polka dots, asked my husband the moment I returned from shopping (he knew my obsession with polka dots and my determination to pick up one for my birthday)
Yes, at last, I sighed.
Oh, is this what you call polka dots, he chuckled glancing at my priced possession, sea green dots on a white background.
I don’t find anything special about the saree you seem to admire so much, he said indifferently. You are deceiving yourself when you think a saree would enhance the wearer’s figure ,he said with his usual sarcasm.
That’s the trouble with you men, can’t appreciate anything other than your own clothes which lack variety and design, I said quite disappointed.
You know I had to visit at least half-a-dozen shops to locate a Polka dots saree of my choice , I said. What’s worse, none of the salesmen understood what I was asking for.
I don’t believe you. It is not such an intricate design that the salesmen found it difficult to understand, he said almost mocking me.
I agree it isn’t. But a couple of them showed me “sungadi” saris and insisted they were polka dots. I found no use arguing with them. In some shops I was amused at their reaction. “Amma, enna sonnige, pulka va?” They thought I was referring to “pulka” that we eat and looked strangely at me as though I had gone off my head.
Then how did you finally manage to pick up the saree which you seem to be so obsessed with? You women have all the patience in the world when it comes to shopping for clothes, he accused.
Well, I found it in a boutique at last and it cost me a fortune, I said, quietly removing the price tag when I noticed his gaze turning to someone approaching.
It was my maid who entered and I felt like a deflated balloon.The coincidence was too much for my comfort!
N Meera Raghavendra Rao