Manav woke up in cold sweat. A few minutes passed before he could focus and come back to reality. He was home and in his bed. The same bed he had shared with Reia for what seemed like a lifetime. The memories came flooding back. Her pleading eyes and trembling lips. The moaning sounds that had escaped her parched throat. Her soft skin smelling of the Spanish lavender oil she religiously applied all over her body. Her long limbs curled like a baby's while she slept. He shut his eyes to evade her sweet memory. He twisted and turned, crumpling the white cotton sheet further.
His eyes fell on the bed side table. It seemed bare. She had carelessly flung her favourite wrist watch onto the table one night, cracking the glass. They had gone to 'Landmark' to shop first thing in the morning. He had bought her a classy black Omega with leather straps. The same night, she had carefully taken off and placed the new watch on the table before snuggling into bed with him. He had even caught her admiring it in the middle of the night. She wasn't aware that he had woken up and was looking at her caressing the watch with a smile of contentment playing on her lips. She was so innocent and childlike. There was something about her eyes, especially when she looked at something or someone very intently. Whenever her eyes rested on him, they had made his pulse race and his stomach churn. That brought back another memory from the past...
They were sitting in a secluded corner of an open air restaurant which was on the thirteenth floor and they were looking down at the brightly lit city. Her eyes were dreamy and a little unfocused. She had taken 4 tequila shots already. He couldn't take his eyes off her face. She was beautiful. She felt his eyes boring into her and looked up. They stared at each other for a while. He wasn't sure if it were seconds or minutes that passed them by. She gave him a lazy smile and leaned towards him. He could smell her intoxicating perfume which was driving him wild. He was itching to take her into his arms and bury his face in her long neck and hold her smell forever. She whispered, "Take me home." He did. They were the only ones in the elevator going down to the basement car park. They stood frozen for the longest time staring hard into each other's eyes. He was incapable of intelligent thought and even less capable of making conversation to break the pregnant silence which he was sure could be sliced with a knife. They got off the elevator and into the car quickly. Neither spoke until they reached home. Night sped past so swiftly after that. He let her leave his side, that too regretfully, only when the sun came up.
He groaned and cursed under his breath. He forced himself to get out of bed and take a shower. He stood on the cold wet marble floor for a long time, letting the water wash over his feverishly hot body and then pool around his feet. He felt the drumming in his temples and his neck muscles stiffen as he soaped himself. He missed Reia. All the time. Every corner of the apartment, every little thing in the house, every sound reminded him of her. He associated everything with her. He was losing it. Losing the grip on reality. Reia's memories were with him always. He wanted to run away and hide. He didn't want to face the fact that she was gone. He wanted to go on fooling himself and believe she was at work and that she would come back. He wanted her to come into the kitchen now while he made an egg for himself and rub his tensed shoulders. He wished she would come and sit at the dining table with him again and have cereal and fruits. He wished for everything to go back to normal and for life to start from where he left living it. He wanted her back. It was unfair. God was unfair. There was no God. He didn't believe in God. It was all hogwash to make people feel mildly better about their miserable lives.
The phone rang.
"Manav..." , he spoke into the receiver.
"Take me home", the voice was faint but audible.
A familiar and sharp pain shot up his chest. He could feel his gut twist again. Just as it had done the last time he had heard her speak. He gulped.
"No, not this time", he said.
He replaced the receiver slowly. He was numb. He carefully put the plate in the kitchen sink, cleaned the dining table with a cloth to remove the crumbs of bread, picked up his car keys and shut the door behind him as he walked out of the house.
The loud music playing in the car prevented his mind from drifting into distant memories again. He breathed in the fresh morning air and let his body relax. He congratulated himself on maintaining his composure with Reia when she had called. He resolved to try harder and forget her. Forget the sweet memories and remember the pain she had put him through. Reia had gone through morning sickness while she was carrying. He went through morning sickness too now, just of a different kind. He woke up every morning thinking of her and the good times they had shared. He fretted every night before he slept out of sheer exhaustion. He felt sick to his stomach thinking about Reia aborting their baby in the fourth month. The thought of her committing such a gory act left him nauseated. She had begged him to forgive her. He had been furious with her. Mostly because it was dangerous to get an abortion done post the 3rd month into the pregnancy. To make matters worse, she had lost a lot of weight and had started vomiting a lot. Her eyes had sunk into the sockets and her face had become pale. Everyone had observed how sick she had started to look. He had taken her to a gynecologist who had prescribed loads of vitamin tablets for her. She took several tests and the result wasn't good. They discovered Reia would never conceive again. He had taken a couple of months to recover from the rude shock and for the realization and acceptance of the fact that he would never become a father. As if this wasn't enough to deal with soon after Reia recovered from her illness and regained her strength, she started going out and drinking heavily. He was bothered and he didn't hide his displeasure. There were heated arguments everyday, over the phone and at home. Finally, she sprung the on him her decision to move out. After much probing and prodding she admitted she had been seeing a co-worker and that she wanted to move in with him. "Let me go Maan", she had pleaded. He had. Just like that. His world had crumbled around him while he stood there looking at her folding her clothes neatly and placing them in the red suitcase she had carried her clothes in for their honeymoon. She had carefully placed the apartment key on the kitchen counter before walking out the door.
She had called now to ask him to take her back. Let her come back. Go over and bring her back. Home, where she belonged. No, she had belonged, once. She didn't anymore. The circle of life had pulled them apart. They had to stay that way. There was too much bitterness between them. Too much had been said already. No more.
"Nah. No More now." He drove on...
***************************
(Manav's story to be continued...)
January 18, 2007
January 15, 2007
togetherness
"Ha, ha, ha..." she laughed uncontrollably.
"Shhhhhh... don't do that! People are glaring at us." he squeaked, thoroughly embarrassed.
This was routine. They loved watching animations together. She would chuckle, giggle, snigger and snort; while he would implore, nag, plead and urge her to curb her uproar.
They had met years ago at the dingy little pet shop down the street from where they lived. She had gone there to buy a pair of gold fish for a glass bowl that had served as a sweet bowl for years. Doctor had finally advised her to stop her intake of anything sweet. She had caved in and decided to do the right thing; i.e, to put fish in the fish bowl. The first thing she had laid her eyes on as soon as she had entered the shop, was a tortoise shell. It was about 15 centimeters long and 13 centimeters wide. She had frozen in shock when she had heard the hissing and popping sounds coming from within the shell. There had been a string tied around the dry hard mass lying in the middle of the cemented floor. He had his grip tight around the other end of the string, as if to keep the lazy, slow and immobile creature from scurrying away (which he obviously couldn't!). The animal hiding in it's shell, probably playing with the wondrous things it had smuggled in, and it's master had piqued her interest. Her fascination with him and his pet had led her to his red brick house with a white stucco fence. He had told her about his quiet and unfriendly pet on their walk back from the pet shop. Like a well-bred and cultured man he had invited her in for a cup of herbal tea. Hence, began the succession of conversations over several cups of tea, long walks in the compound (with the pet tortoise in the perambulator), watching animations at his house (on a 17 inch computer monitor) and in the theatre.
Their relationship had a childlike quality. Innocent, simple and without artifice. They were so engrossed in each other that daily routines were also set to accommodate the other as much as possible. He liked the comfort of his own house and she appreciated the peace and quiet surrounding it. The plants out in the lawn, the bedroom window overlooking the green field beyond, the dim lighting in the sitting room, the compact modular kitchen, the twin beds in one of the bedrooms, the tiny alter hooked up on the wall with miniature deities placed ever so neatly on a red silk cloth, the fragrance of the incense stick in the room after he finished praying were all so familiar and filled her with tranquility.
He urged her to consider moving in with him. She could stay in the guest room with the twin beds, the computer and the altar. She was reluctant to give up her abode, even though she was hardly living there. Most of her time was spent with him in his red brick house or in his compound where they went for long walks in the evening. But then she was tempted too, to live with him in that neat and tidy house with everything functional and in order. Her own house was in shambles with the peeling walls and running taps. Also, the incessant barking of the hideous dog across the street was making it difficult to get any sleep at night.
Who was she fooling? Why was she hell bent upon keeping their lives detached? He needed her and she had to admit, she needed him too. They had come extremely close over the past couple of years. He had shared every little detail of his past with her and she had done the same. She even knew the faces in the pictures he had taken over the years as real people. They loved talking to each other, sometimes they would ramble on mindlessly too. His ceaseless prodding and rationalization of the situation crumbled her objections. She sold off her house and moved in with him.
"I am glad you came", said he; with tears welling up in his eyes.
"I had to, you wouldn't survive a day without me!", she laughed; just to keep the tears from trickling down her bony and wrinkled cheeks.
"Take my hand...live while you can...", he serenaded tunelessly and offered her his scrawny thin hand.
She put her gnarled fingers through his and squeezed them hard. He gave her a charming toothless grin, his eyes gleaming with roguish delight. Although, when he spoke, he sounded sincere; "I promise to help you up when you hurt and curse your arthritis."
She couldn't stop the tears from spilling over now and made a promise of her own; "I swear to listen carefully and not interrupt when you want to talk about your late wife who served, pampered and suffered you for 49 long years! Even though I've heard those stories a million times already..."
He groaned and a tinge of red ran up his ears in sheer embarrassment.
They both sat in companionable silence on the rusted swing in the veranda, with a smile of contentment playing on their dreary enfeebled faces but ageless and bright twinkling eyes for a long time. Only the croaking of the crickets and the rasping sound of the 30 year old swing breaking the silence of the cold still night...
"Shhhhhh... don't do that! People are glaring at us." he squeaked, thoroughly embarrassed.
This was routine. They loved watching animations together. She would chuckle, giggle, snigger and snort; while he would implore, nag, plead and urge her to curb her uproar.
They had met years ago at the dingy little pet shop down the street from where they lived. She had gone there to buy a pair of gold fish for a glass bowl that had served as a sweet bowl for years. Doctor had finally advised her to stop her intake of anything sweet. She had caved in and decided to do the right thing; i.e, to put fish in the fish bowl. The first thing she had laid her eyes on as soon as she had entered the shop, was a tortoise shell. It was about 15 centimeters long and 13 centimeters wide. She had frozen in shock when she had heard the hissing and popping sounds coming from within the shell. There had been a string tied around the dry hard mass lying in the middle of the cemented floor. He had his grip tight around the other end of the string, as if to keep the lazy, slow and immobile creature from scurrying away (which he obviously couldn't!). The animal hiding in it's shell, probably playing with the wondrous things it had smuggled in, and it's master had piqued her interest. Her fascination with him and his pet had led her to his red brick house with a white stucco fence. He had told her about his quiet and unfriendly pet on their walk back from the pet shop. Like a well-bred and cultured man he had invited her in for a cup of herbal tea. Hence, began the succession of conversations over several cups of tea, long walks in the compound (with the pet tortoise in the perambulator), watching animations at his house (on a 17 inch computer monitor) and in the theatre.
Their relationship had a childlike quality. Innocent, simple and without artifice. They were so engrossed in each other that daily routines were also set to accommodate the other as much as possible. He liked the comfort of his own house and she appreciated the peace and quiet surrounding it. The plants out in the lawn, the bedroom window overlooking the green field beyond, the dim lighting in the sitting room, the compact modular kitchen, the twin beds in one of the bedrooms, the tiny alter hooked up on the wall with miniature deities placed ever so neatly on a red silk cloth, the fragrance of the incense stick in the room after he finished praying were all so familiar and filled her with tranquility.
He urged her to consider moving in with him. She could stay in the guest room with the twin beds, the computer and the altar. She was reluctant to give up her abode, even though she was hardly living there. Most of her time was spent with him in his red brick house or in his compound where they went for long walks in the evening. But then she was tempted too, to live with him in that neat and tidy house with everything functional and in order. Her own house was in shambles with the peeling walls and running taps. Also, the incessant barking of the hideous dog across the street was making it difficult to get any sleep at night.
Who was she fooling? Why was she hell bent upon keeping their lives detached? He needed her and she had to admit, she needed him too. They had come extremely close over the past couple of years. He had shared every little detail of his past with her and she had done the same. She even knew the faces in the pictures he had taken over the years as real people. They loved talking to each other, sometimes they would ramble on mindlessly too. His ceaseless prodding and rationalization of the situation crumbled her objections. She sold off her house and moved in with him.
"I am glad you came", said he; with tears welling up in his eyes.
"I had to, you wouldn't survive a day without me!", she laughed; just to keep the tears from trickling down her bony and wrinkled cheeks.
"Take my hand...live while you can...", he serenaded tunelessly and offered her his scrawny thin hand.
She put her gnarled fingers through his and squeezed them hard. He gave her a charming toothless grin, his eyes gleaming with roguish delight. Although, when he spoke, he sounded sincere; "I promise to help you up when you hurt and curse your arthritis."
She couldn't stop the tears from spilling over now and made a promise of her own; "I swear to listen carefully and not interrupt when you want to talk about your late wife who served, pampered and suffered you for 49 long years! Even though I've heard those stories a million times already..."
He groaned and a tinge of red ran up his ears in sheer embarrassment.
They both sat in companionable silence on the rusted swing in the veranda, with a smile of contentment playing on their dreary enfeebled faces but ageless and bright twinkling eyes for a long time. Only the croaking of the crickets and the rasping sound of the 30 year old swing breaking the silence of the cold still night...
January 4, 2007
Venting...
I am surprised, not pleasantly though. Soon after my public admission and the attestation of the fact that 'I am a self reliant woman' , why do I still feel the need to lean on a trusted few? Why do I fervently text, mail or call them up at odd hours to vent my anger and exhasperation. Most of them let me release my rage and gladly pose as my punching bag. They are usually unruffled by my outbursts and hysteria. They ever so nicely lend me an ear till I heave a sigh of sheer helplessness. Then with a knowing smile playing on their lips ... they think , "I have witnessed this agitation before...and yet again you are making a mountain out of a mole hill!" . Its most natural for an outsider to find issues like; 'submission of extensive reports on short notice', 'a trainee not only being nonchalant but downright disruptive in the sessions', 'co-workers who think you are out to get them just because you have been assigned a responsibility which could disrupt their sluggishness and hence, become mildly sarcastic' trivial. However, they still listen, analyse and unabashedly give me their opinion...mostly with a word of advise thrown in. Finally, they make me reflect on how I chould have handled a particular situation and what it is that I can do to mend it.
I have to modestly admit that I, just like other human beings, have these moments of weakness wherein It feels nice to have someone to just be there to listen and acknowledge my feelings of disgust or dispair, as the case maybe. They could either be physically present to see and hear my woes or keep responding to my endless texting. If ever I am unable to vent my displeasure, I keep pondering and find it difficult to focus on the task at hand. Sometimes I would try to sleep with the event still playing on my mind...but I would fail, miserably. However, these occasions are few and far between. These few trusted souls that I have been talking about, usually come to my aid and help me see things more clearly. Even though I dont always agree with their point of view... it sure helps to vent :)
To know my text, mail or call will not go unattended... places my faith back in humanity. To know that the recipient will not mind the intrusion at ungodly hours... assures me I still have affinity with others. The knowledge alone, of this companionship and solidarity is what keeps an opinionated and an avid jabber like me at ease...
I have to modestly admit that I, just like other human beings, have these moments of weakness wherein It feels nice to have someone to just be there to listen and acknowledge my feelings of disgust or dispair, as the case maybe. They could either be physically present to see and hear my woes or keep responding to my endless texting. If ever I am unable to vent my displeasure, I keep pondering and find it difficult to focus on the task at hand. Sometimes I would try to sleep with the event still playing on my mind...but I would fail, miserably. However, these occasions are few and far between. These few trusted souls that I have been talking about, usually come to my aid and help me see things more clearly. Even though I dont always agree with their point of view... it sure helps to vent :)
To know my text, mail or call will not go unattended... places my faith back in humanity. To know that the recipient will not mind the intrusion at ungodly hours... assures me I still have affinity with others. The knowledge alone, of this companionship and solidarity is what keeps an opinionated and an avid jabber like me at ease...
An Ode to My Folks...
I am a self reliant woman. Brought up in an almost liberal family by moderately conservative parents. I would say they were rather accepting of my rebellious ways, or so I would like to believe. Mostly; they just knuckled under the gigantic steps I took towards self distruction , or so they believed at the time. Thats how average Indian parents are I suppose, obsessively protective. And when all attempts at conservation fail, they safeguard their own pride and say, "You are free to do as you deem fit...we have given you the roots, now you have grown wings...be careful...there are a lot of people out there who would entice and misguide you...don't do anything we would'nt do...blah blah blah...". I am sure they did all that they warned me off. Or maybe they had seen way too many episodes of 'Sansani' and 'Crime Files', which emptied their heads and filled such nonsense. A few arguments I had with my folks in my formative years were; "It stands to reason why would my closest and most trusted friend, who is from a hindu family with religious roots, would one fine day have an inclination to indulge in any sort of malpractice?", "I am not dumb maa... I know who is genuine and who isn't", "Will you just stop asking me so many questions? I've told you I am going out for a movie with friends. Give me a break! Do you even want to know the registration number of the car I'll be travelling in?", "Why can't I ask my friends to come over and spend the day here while you are out on a day trip with your friends? I am telling you its perfectly safe. Stop getting so paranoid!"... Endless bickerings and constant shoving from me led to my parents backing off a bit and giving me some breathing space, just like I wanted.
I started getting fair amount of freedom, though conditional. Ma and Papa started making bargains; "We'll let you go for the movie if you let us drop you to the theater and pick you up after the movie. And also let us meet your friends and say hi. We just want to see who are the people you are hanging out with. It'll give us an excuse to have a date too." It sounded perfectly harmless so I let them have their way. Our arrangements were always fair and square. Life was very smooth until I started working. I needed more freedom than they were ready to give. Some more pushing and shoving was required. I would propose a plan and they would dispose it without even mulling over it. I incessantly cribbed and fought; sometimes to no avail and at other times getting what I wanted, but after being made to feel horribly guilty about it. Life was such a struggle at home. Then the situation deteriorated further. My mum started the sobbing and sniveling when she heard of my 2 month long travel plan. Work required me to go out of town which was totally unacceptable to my parents. I emotionally blackmailed my dad and had him on my side in no time. I realised after 22 yrs of my life that all I had to do was be helpless and weepy to have him comply with my whims and fancies! What a dud I was. Anyway, dad talked to mom, mom cried a bit more and accused him of being too liberal and not thinking clearly. After much hue and cry I was bid adieu. Complete freedom atlast! I could breathe... haha...fantastic! There was no stopping me after that. I travelled frequently. My organisation was growing leaps and bounds and needed trainers to be on the move all the time. Business and clients in Delhi were dwindling and there were more and better organizations demanding their services. World class trainers...multi skilled...such pool of talent was bound to get noticed. I was a tenured and experienced resource of my company. It could bank on me conducting trainings for some quite finicky clients too. I stretched my wings and went out far east. Corporate trainings as well were becoming my forte... Ma and papa were very proud of me. They were also more relaxed and less bothersome after that. I guess when you take flight and your parents are finally convinced that you are not about to crash and vanish in fumes, they lessen the pressure. Or maybe they just had my little brother, who had suddenly shot upto 6'1", to worry about.
Mr.me and I have been thinking about making babies someday... its not happening anytime soon though. I am sure I'll follow my parents in their footsteps. I can forsee myself being even more protective of our kids than my parents were of me. Especially after reading the gory details of the friendly neigbour who molested and mutilated the bodies of 30 innocent kids in cold blood. He even had the gall to bury them in his backyard.
I fear... to bring a life into this crazy and inhumane world. I fear...sending my kid to school and worrying myself sick until his/ her return. I fear...getting an mms with my kid doing the unthinkable. I fear...not being able to bring up my kid with moral values. I fear...losing my kid to the damn world which will fill his/ her head with nonsensical ideas...
I need to gather my nerve before I prove my mettle to my parents by bringing a baby in this big bad world...
I started getting fair amount of freedom, though conditional. Ma and Papa started making bargains; "We'll let you go for the movie if you let us drop you to the theater and pick you up after the movie. And also let us meet your friends and say hi. We just want to see who are the people you are hanging out with. It'll give us an excuse to have a date too." It sounded perfectly harmless so I let them have their way. Our arrangements were always fair and square. Life was very smooth until I started working. I needed more freedom than they were ready to give. Some more pushing and shoving was required. I would propose a plan and they would dispose it without even mulling over it. I incessantly cribbed and fought; sometimes to no avail and at other times getting what I wanted, but after being made to feel horribly guilty about it. Life was such a struggle at home. Then the situation deteriorated further. My mum started the sobbing and sniveling when she heard of my 2 month long travel plan. Work required me to go out of town which was totally unacceptable to my parents. I emotionally blackmailed my dad and had him on my side in no time. I realised after 22 yrs of my life that all I had to do was be helpless and weepy to have him comply with my whims and fancies! What a dud I was. Anyway, dad talked to mom, mom cried a bit more and accused him of being too liberal and not thinking clearly. After much hue and cry I was bid adieu. Complete freedom atlast! I could breathe... haha...fantastic! There was no stopping me after that. I travelled frequently. My organisation was growing leaps and bounds and needed trainers to be on the move all the time. Business and clients in Delhi were dwindling and there were more and better organizations demanding their services. World class trainers...multi skilled...such pool of talent was bound to get noticed. I was a tenured and experienced resource of my company. It could bank on me conducting trainings for some quite finicky clients too. I stretched my wings and went out far east. Corporate trainings as well were becoming my forte... Ma and papa were very proud of me. They were also more relaxed and less bothersome after that. I guess when you take flight and your parents are finally convinced that you are not about to crash and vanish in fumes, they lessen the pressure. Or maybe they just had my little brother, who had suddenly shot upto 6'1", to worry about.
Mr.me and I have been thinking about making babies someday... its not happening anytime soon though. I am sure I'll follow my parents in their footsteps. I can forsee myself being even more protective of our kids than my parents were of me. Especially after reading the gory details of the friendly neigbour who molested and mutilated the bodies of 30 innocent kids in cold blood. He even had the gall to bury them in his backyard.
I fear... to bring a life into this crazy and inhumane world. I fear...sending my kid to school and worrying myself sick until his/ her return. I fear...getting an mms with my kid doing the unthinkable. I fear...not being able to bring up my kid with moral values. I fear...losing my kid to the damn world which will fill his/ her head with nonsensical ideas...
I need to gather my nerve before I prove my mettle to my parents by bringing a baby in this big bad world...
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