India’s Edward Scissorhands

A housewife was arrested recently in Bangalore for attacking her husband with a pair of scissors. She was deeply upset over his refusal to eat dinner her mother had specially cooked for him.  She is being questioned by the police. Press Reports.

‘Madam, do you realise you could have killed your husband? Why did you attack him with a pair of scissors?’ the investigating officer asked quite politely, under the circumstances.

The housewife replied calmly. ‘Because I could not readily find anything more lethal in my fit of rage than a pair of scissors. I regret that I did not kill him.’

The police officer harrumphed impatiently. ‘I did not mean why the scissors, Madam. My question was why did you attack him at all?’

‘What did you expect me to do, Officer? He calls me from his place of work to say that he will be coming home late, and would I rustle up something substantial for dinner as he is already quite famished. I requested my mother, who lives close by to prepare his favourite mutton biryani along with some side dishes, and now this happens.’

‘What happens?’ asked the puzzled cop.

‘Surely, he must have told you. Have you not spoken to him?’

‘At the moment Madam, the nursing home where he is admitted is dealing with several deep cuts and quite a few bruises, resulting from his struggles while you went after him with your weapon of choice, a pair of scissors. He is not in a talkative mood. Why scissors, for God’s sake?’

“I already told you…’

‘Of course, yes. Don’t bother answering. You could not find anything more effective at the time that could have killed him. You botched it up. Yes, I get it. Instead, you are left with a live witness, or should I say victim, namely, your husband who will spill the beans once the stitches from his upper and lower lips are removed. For now, his lips are sealed. I must say, Madam, things are not looking good for you. Aggravated assault and causing hurt with a dangerous weapon are very serious crimes.’

‘You have not heard my side of the story fully, Officer.’

‘I am all ears, Madam. Shoot.’

‘An odd but appropriate choice of word, shoot. If only I had a gun lying around in the house, you would have been questioning me on a murder charge and not aggravated assault. Pity.’ She sounded very sorry for herself.

The policeman was quite intrigued. He pressed on. ‘Are you feeling sorry that you find yourself neck deep in the soup or that you could not finish the job with a pair of scissors? As an aside, could you not find a sharpened kitchen knife or something instead of a rusty pair of paper cutters?’

‘Ah, so you sympathise with my quandary, do you? And they were not rusty.’

‘That was just a figure of speech. I was being facetiously ironic. Sir Winston Churchill once famously said, “Give us the tools and we will finish the job.” Obviously, you were not happy with your tools. Then again, remember a bad workman blames his tools.’

‘You have lost me completely, Officer. Who is this Churchill, and who was he trying to kill? Anyhow, it was a spur-of-the-moment thing. Not quite a crime of passion. I was livid. Try going late home tonight, while your wife waits anxiously at the door with her mother’s biryani in the microwave and tell her you have already eaten and got sloshed at a nearby bar and restaurant. See what happens. I wouldn’t fancy your chances, Officer. Expect a black eye and hide the scissors.’

The policeman was not amused, ‘Ha ha, very funny. Since you ask, Churchill was trying to kill the Germans but I do not have time to give you a history lesson. Tell me, why did you ask your mother to cook? I am curious. Were you not well?’

‘I was out of doors and was forbidden from entering the kitchen. That is why I asked my mother to cook.’

The police officer was foxed. Then realisation dawned. ‘Out of doors? Oh, I see. That. I understand. Sorry.’

Mr. Plod made some notes in his diary. “Accused out of doors, three to four days out of action” he scribbled as if it was an important breakthrough. ‘Boozed as well, did he? I see your point Madam, but why do you feel so aggrieved simply because he ate out and had a couple of large pegs at a restaurant? Maybe he did not want to disturb you and your child that late at night? Hmmm?’

‘You have not been listening to me, Officer. The fact is he wanted to insult my mother. I had specifically told him before he left for work that my mother will be cooking for us that night. She is a great cook. Had it been his mother, he would have been home by eight in the evening to gorge on her tasteless bise bele bath. You see where I am coming from?’

‘Look here young lady, I am a police officer. It is not within my jurisdiction to judge the relative culinary abilities of your mother and your mother-in-law. If your hubby does not hold your mother’s cooking in high regard and finds an escape route, you cannot go after him with the nearest weapon you can lay your hands on. I still cannot believe you chose a pair of scissors, of all things. Thank God you did or else you would have been looking at the noose.’

‘What is that? Noose?’

‘Believe me Madam, as far as you are concerned, no noose is good noose.’ Then he made a gesture with his hand encircling his neck, his eyes bulging out and his tongue hanging out to one side.

‘You are a good mime artist, Sir. They can hang me for this? Then, please tell me what are my legal options?’

‘Divorce springs to mind. Your husband will almost certainly be thinking along those lines. He is most concerned about your child. The duty nurse at the hospital claims that he was extremely worried about a bottle of rat poison in one of the kitchen cupboards which will give you more bad ideas. It could just be delirium. He is heavily sedated, but we will need to talk to him once he comes to, when he can comfortably part his sutured lips and say a few words.’

‘That rat poison expired long ago. Even the rats won’t expire on consuming it. Why can’t we just talk it over and try and settle the matter out of court?’

‘Yes Madam, that option can be explored. Get a lawyer first. Is there anything you want now? Tea, coffee?’

‘Coffee please, thanks. And Officer, do you know how to play rock / paper / scissors?’

The policeman abruptly concludes the interrogation and flounces out of the room in a huff. The case continues.