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No laughing matter
Can men laugh at themselves?
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 "It takes Ronit about half an hour to set his hair everyday," Tara said and everybody in the group turned to stare at Ronit and his receding hairline.
"Come on Tara, the poor fellow doesn't have enough on his head even to comb," Pranav laughed.
"That precisely is the reason," Tara spoke with mock seriousness and added, "Everyday a new bald spot appears and my poor Ronit has to think of a new way of covering it." Everybody was in splits. Except Ronit of course. He was careful about his appearance to such an extent as to be considered vain. Losing hair at the age of thirty five was a big blow to his ego. He got upset every time someone noticed it or passed a comment. Recently he had started going to a well known trichologist. The man took his money and informed him coolly that they can try to prevent further hairfall but what was gone was gone forever. Heredity is something one can't fight, the expert told Ronit.
Ronit couldn't curse his late father but came to the conclusion that God was not fair to him. And he didn't like it at all when somebody joked about it. But today, of all the people, Tara, his own wife who should have known better, was making fun of him and that too in a room full of people. Trying to laugh it off took great effort on his part.
"It was a great party. Don't you think?" Tara said on their way back home.
"Hmm" Ronit said without taking his eyes off the road.
"After a long time I had so much fun at a party," Tara smiled at the memory.
"And that too at my cost," Ronit too smiled but with apparent bitterness.
"What do you mean?" Tara asked.
"You know what I mean."
"Honestly, I don't know what you are saying," Tara said, mystified.
"You made jokes about my.... my hair."
"Oh, that!" Tara waved her hand.
"Why, you think it is something to laugh at?"
"Come on Ronit, take it easy, learn to laugh at yourself," Tara closed her eyes and tried to put an end to the conversation. But Ronit was not to be appeased so easily.
"What if you were in my shoes?" he asked.
"I would just laugh it off the way I do when you make jokes about my weight," Tara giggled.
"You are drunk," Ronit mumbled and then kept quiet.
A week after this incident, one of Ronit's cousins had come to their house for dinner. The evening was proceeding well when all of a sudden Ronit brought up the subject of wife swapping. Just that morning he had read in the paper that such activities took place in the higher echelon of society. "Do you think such clubs exist?" he asked Shishir who worked as a journalist in the city daily.
"May be, I am not sure," Shishir replied.
"I wish I could join such a club," he said, winking at him.
Instead of getting angry, Tara laughed and said, "And after being with you, any woman would start appreciating her own husband."
"Means?" Ronit's expressions turned serious.
"You know what I mean darling. We don't want outsiders to know about it." Now it was Tara's turn to wink at Shishir.
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