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FIRE AND WATER KSHATIMOHANBABU 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 was out of 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 meals,” she screamed, her 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 bothering you!"
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.
__उवसमेण हणे कोहं। If rage is like fire, is not forgiveness like a jet of cool water putting out the flame?
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