“Go go go Gig”my husband told me. “You’ll see Bangalore in a whole new way.” He tossed advice at me, and a ball of meat with extra cheese into his belly at the same time. Lines on my frowning forehead multiplied in that moment. Neither could I approve the idea of gigging nor tossing the meatballs into the air. Gigging in winter for a food delivery app drains energy; meatballs are an expensive delicacy.

 “Why only gig, why deliver food? Why not work anywhere else? Is that what you mean by this expression?” he noticed my pouted lips covering my eyes like an umbrella opened in the rain covers us.

” You’ll know people when you gig. Those who have and those who don’t have. Both. Put your empathy into practice, madam.” He showed me two fingers, one for Haves and another for Have-nots. Embossing number two on my eyeballs, adding emphasis, he rested his head on my shoulder. The two fingers he showed me reaffirmed his inclination to push me to work for a food delivery app.” If you want to be a writer, you have to know your characters.” He whispered in my ear.

Before the thought bubble in my head burst and I could plunge into my shoes for some action, he took a plunge onto a bike like Batman to go on a mission. “Coming along?” He asked me, nudging me with a helmet. He tapped the shoes so hard on the ground that I bent over to check if he had secret boosters that would skyrocket his bike, sharp, into the air through the wind to hop over mundane life. I wondered in all seriousness if my husband is Bangalore’s new Batman.

But, I said no, gave a queen’s reply, a No to Batman’s offer; brushed my wavy hair and left the spooky-looking parking patch of my apartments to enter into my paradise, my sweet home.

I certainly bestowed him with the happiness of riding all by himself through the maze of traffic. Swirl the wheel, hop on the bumps, cruise through buses and cars!

Wow! How lucky I missed it all! I said cheers to the steaming coffee mug.

I have my methods to reach the readers, I murmured to walls draped in shining wallpapers at home and sat down at a window to write for my readers about the character I know too well, my husband.