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A Missing Husband?

Written By: Usree Bhattacharya on December 21, 2008 3 Comments

Still somewhat jet-lagged and travel weary after a recent 20-something hour marathon flight from San Fransisco to New Delhi, I headed over to a local gym, intriguingly named Addiction, to get a month’s membership. Yesterday we’d picked up a form, and today we were supposed to drop it off. Hunched over in the car on the left-hand side passenger seat this morning, I started filling out the two-page form. I inked in my name almost automatically. Then I came to the second item on the form:

Son/Wife/Daughter of_______________

The Offending Section from the Form

The Gym Form

I crossed out the first two, wrote in my mother’s name, and then I paused, the words actually sinking in after I had answered the question. My mother asked me why I had suddenly become motionless, and I pointed at the line, expressing shock and anger about what it contained. Why did this matter at the gym, since it was not to serve for “next of kin” documentation purposes? Most “angeringly,” how come the gym recognized only three states: that of being a “son,” a “wife,” and a “daughter”? How come “husband” was not a category?

I fished out my handy camera, took pictures, murmuring to Ma that this was a very blogry event.

Anyway, I didn’t want to start off my “Re-Discover India” series or whatever it’ll be called with a gripe, but…things don’t happen the way you plan them. 🙂

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3 Responses to “A Missing Husband?”

  1. Youki on: 21 December 2008 at 9:28 am

    heh blogry sounds like an “angry blog” event now. Which would be completely appropriate in this case!

  2. Usree Bhattacharya on: 21 December 2008 at 1:52 pm

    Totally!!!! 🙂

  3. Ruby on: 11 January 2009 at 9:52 am

    Just before the Christmas break I was looking for a magazine for my partner; he likes cooking. I had to browse in the “women’s interest” section for all the cooking magazines. Then I decided to get a magazine for me; my biking magazine was, of course, in the men’s interest section. At the time I was more amused that angered … I admit, a bit less serious than on an official form!

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