Tempest

Wednesday, 14 February 2007

Together forever...

She woke up groggy. The sun had not come up yet but early morn had spread a faint light. She could see it through the open window. It oddly looked like dusk. Dawn looks like dusk in Delhi. Had it not been for the chirping of the birds and the tingling freshness of dew and daybreak she would have been disoriented. She yawned and stretched out her hand to feel the other side of the bed. Empty…only rumpled sheets…like always. She had stopped expecting to find him there, beside her to say good morning, a long time ago. Yet she spread her hands to check if he was there every morning. It had become a habit. She always woke up early like today around 6 am. Yet he always seemed to get up much earlier. The same thoughts ran through her mind like everyday as she slowly got out of bed, went to the bathroom and got ready for the day.
‘Is it so necessary?’
‘He isn’t young anymore, why the obsession to go everyday?’
‘Why can’t he go at a reasonable hour like 6 am?’
‘Can’t he wait to say good morning to me?’
‘Crazy old stubborn fool!’

She walked into the kitchen and rummaged through the cupboards for her special light tea. The kettle was boiling; she added milk while her mind of its own accord drifted back to the early days. She would get up in the morning, all fresh and sprightly, efficiently make the right mix of cardamom tea and eagerly wait for him to get back from his game of squash. Then he would walk in, the sunshine of her life. The manly stench of sweat never bothered her in those years. Everything about him was perfect. He would pick up the newspaper, lounge himself on a sofa, take deep sips of his tea and ponder over the issues of the world. She had always been a hygiene freak. She was born that way. To allow him to sit on that couch in those sweaty clothes, without much nagging was a great sacrifice for her. He always used to rumple the paper after reading it and this annoyed her a little. She’d complain about it and he would awkwardly make a small effort to put the pages right, but the paper would still look shabby. She used to find him so endearing.

‘Ah time flies’ she thought, while making tea for herself. She now made his tea only when he had returned, had taken a shower and had asked for his tea. She couldn’t understand why after all these years he couldn’t remember anything. She couldn’t understand why he would insist on sitting on that chair after his morning walk every single morning. She couldn’t understand how he could leave his wet towel lying on the bed after bath everyday. She couldn’t understand why he never told her something was delicious when he liked it. She couldn’t understand how after reminding him a zillion times he would never put water in his plate when he left it in the sink. She couldn’t understand why after explaining to him over and over again he would invite people for dinner without consulting with her. She couldn’t understand why he never told her she looked beautiful. He would only care about his electronic children, his TV, his computer, his radio, his car. He would clean them and howl like a wounded child if even a scratch fell upon them. She couldn’t understand why he never felt that way about other things in the house, why he could never put away a crystal decorative item in its place if it had been displaced. How did these things miss his sight? He couldn’t understand why she was always grumbling and ranting about the same things everyday.

She remembered as a college student how she had dreamed of marrying a suave, sophisticated man like Amitabh Bachchan in Silsila after a whirpool romance. She remembered her father telling her of this man in the Army who he thought would be a good match for her. She remembered meeting him for the first time…she remembered an almost forgotten excitement as she had looked at him covertly through beneath her lashes. She remembered his cheerful smile. It was open and friendly and did not have a bit of sophisticated mystery like her hero from Silsila had. She remembered agreeing to marry him. She remembered him telling her that they would have a good life together. She remembered him taking out a cigarette and smoking the first day after marriage. Even in disgusted shock she had found him endearing. She remembered him being a strong man. She remembered him throwing the cigarette down and even after all these years she did not remember him having touched another one thereafter. He had never said that he had done it for her; he didn’t know how to say these things. But, then she had found him endearing and the missing words she overlooked. There were only missing words now and their life had become a routine. She looked out of window and thought ‘he’ll be here in a bit and then rush to work…sigh.’

She had had romantic dreams of candlelight and flowers. She loved the hint of luxury. But, he never had that kind of class. He never took her for those romantic dinners and hand held walks by the river. He never said mushy words in her ear in soft melody. He never brought her flowers. He was a practical man. But she remembered how he had laughed and always shyly appreciated her every piece of art. She remembered how he used to take her on the bike to a neighbouring town to watch a movie in dingy theatres and then eat samosa channa. She remembered how he would tell his friends that she was the best cook in the world. She remembered how he would once in a rare blue moon buy her some jewellery and brusquely shove it in her hands. She remembered how she had never liked his taste but would smile at his show of affection.

‘I wonder what is taking him so long. Not like it matters he loves his walks, dumbbells and golf course more than me,’ she said to herself as she stretched her aching legs out on the chair before her. She had suffered from arthritis for over ten years. He asked her how her foot was everyday but she felt like it was more like a tape recorded question. He never appreciated what she did…how she ran the house, kept his entire life in order, hosted his friends and worked in spite of her foot. They had been through umpteen number of house shifts, lived in dramatically dangerous conditions having to put up with leaking roofs, seeping walls, fungus, snakes, leeches and things she had never even dreamed of. She had lived alone in separated accommodations for stretches of two to three years and never told him that this was new and difficult for her. The man had never appreciated her sacrifice and adjustments. But she also remembered how he had taught her to drive, had never raised his voice and had always had the immensity of self respect in himself as a human being to accede that she was a better driver than him. She remembered playing badminton with him, the thrill of competition and being treated as an equal. She remembered solving crosswords together and laughing over the easy deceptive hints. She remembered how he had encouraged her to follow her every ambition in life. He had not been mushy but he had been fair and fun and stimulating.

She looked up at the wall and happened to see the old frame of theirs with their wedding snaps and familiar words printed across.. Something inside her shifted and she smiled as she finished her tea. She decided to break the routine. She decided to again make him tea and wait for him to come in...Just as she had mixed the right concoction of cardamom and tea leaves, he walked in. The sunshine of her life…with greying hair but still cheerful and bright and fit and practical. He smiled and took the tea cup from her hands like it was not something that had been done after years and casually picked up the newspaper. ‘I was hoping you would make it for me today,’ he said while he skirted the sofa, pulled out a garden chair and sat down on it. He smiled and said, ‘see I didn’t forget.’ He had smiled the smile that had melted her heart those twenty years ago…that had always made him so endearing.

She looked up at the frame and read those familiar words once again with tears in her eyes.

'A part of you has grown in me…
And so you see…Its you and me…
Together forever…and never apart…
Maybe in distance…but never in heart!'

Posted by Pavitra :: 03:20 :: 12 comments