FIRE AND WATER
SHATRI MOHAN BABU and his wife were poles apart in temperament. He
was serene as the full moon; she was hot as a seething volcano. One
evening, Babuji returned home long after time for supper. His wife
who had lost her temper because the supper was already cold, greeted
him in a strident voice the moment he had crossed the threshold.
“You are so obsessed with these silly notions of service that you
forget all about your meal, “she screamed. He rage mounting with her
words. “You lose all count of time; you never give a thought to the
inconvenience you cause me by your irregular habits. Well, here’s
your plate of rice-cold as ice-eat it if you are hungry!”
Her husband smiled good-naturedly, picked up the plate of rice and
held it on her head. “Never mind if the rice has got cold.” He said
sweetly. “There’s such a fire roaring in your head, your eyes have
turned red and the whole atmosphere is hot as if the house were on
fire! I am sure the rice will be warmed up in no time if I hold it
on your head and then I can have a nice, warm supper without
His wife, whose sense of humour was better than her temper, burst
into laughter. She apologised for her outburst and promised to curb
her temper and her tongue, in future.
If rage is like fire, is not forgiveness like a jet of cool water
putting out the flame?