Ironical Laddoos...

I can travel whenever I want. I do not have to check up on programs or take permission or ask for my mother's credit card to pay for the tickets. I don't need to meet my parent's friends and smile and be polite, or feel guilty about calling the driver early.

I can go anywhere without thinking about potty schedules and PTA meetings and cricket matches and stage shows. Without worrying about buying a gift or gifts, or looking for that one gift article that offers my relatives a distinctive flavour of that region.

No diaper changes, No lamaze Classes, no obstetriticians, no gynaecologists, and definitely no paediatricians. No choices between blue and pink, and no allergens to take care of.

No pressure to own my own house, no reason to be a slave to an EMI. No chance of making a career compromise, and absolutely no reason to plan for any futures.

I can order chicken tandoori while watching the India-Australia Cricket match, and yell loudly if Sachin gets out without worrying about waking someone up. I can go drinking after work, and come home late.

I can wake up with a hangover and I can choose when to wake up. I can leave my bed unmade and I can choose what I eat and when I eat. I have the energy to flirt, and the energy to work.

I can sit in a coffeehouse at 11 AM and read the newspaper, while I idly sip a coffee and watch the world go by. I can take off on a vacation when I choose to and I can go off for a drive on a moment's notice.

I can stand in an airport queue holding my overnight strolley, watching the half balding bespectacled executive juggle 2 handbags, 1 stroller, 2 holdalls, 3 suitcases, 1 wife and a wailing baby while he feverishly searches for his passports, his tickets and his pen to fill out the immigration form. And I can smile indulgently.

I can do all this because I am eating the DINK Laadu. Although sometimes I wish my wife were eating it.