Memoir

Three hours of sifting through postcards, envelopes and pictures, I now feel i know him a little bit more. I discover something new about him everyday. Some things are pleasant, some not so pleasant. But then I accept, adapt, and mould myself to fit into his world better. Our marriage had materialized out of thin air. One wet and mucky evening in September 2005 I met this man and a month later we were betrothed. We were in love and things fell into place beautifully. Families were not just supportive but extremely happy with our match. It was as if divinities were smiling down at us and had instructed the bright sun to see us through till the wedding and after. We were meant to be together and the world around us complied with our wishes. No melodrama, no emotional blackmail, no fights, no resistance. I look back and marvel.
Although, a lone stray thought sometimes crosses my mind and makes me wonder why we didn't wait for a couple of years at least and then decide to settle down. Soon after, another thought finds its way into my latent mind and I realize how I still would not have known him completely. A little better maybe, but not fully. The state of being where you know your better half completely does not exist. Humans are ever changing. We are not constant beings. We get influenced and then change either for the better or for worse with a shift in time, surroundings and situations. The best we can do is to keep our eyes, ears, hearts and minds open to all the changes and learn to not just live with them, but to rejoice in them. Imagine how tiresome our lives would be if the people around us never evolved. We would have set expectations and other people would always meet them. The element of surprise would be subverted. Appalling thought indeed!

The ink was smudged in places; words were unclear where the paper creased, a few pages were dog-eared for some unknown reason. All the postcards and letters were crisp dry like fallen leaves in autumn. The old pictures were hazy and the colors not as sharp as they must have been all those years ago. I spent a long time sitting cross-legged on our king size bed, surrounded with all the letters sent to him over the years by his friends and cousins, pictures of his school trips and little notes which were probably exchanged in school while a lecture was in progress. I stumbled upon this treasure while clearing out his study table, which is perhaps two decades old. After a good 6 months I had the fortune of coming home fairly early from work. Everybody at home was rather busy with their chores, so I decided to go up to my room and rest for a bit. I was looking forward to take a nap for a couple of hours before dinner. Once in my room, scrubbed and changed into comfortable sweatpants and a worn out t-shirt I called him up to tell him I was home. After a brief exchange of words and a few distracted responses from him I inquired if his rashes were any better. He has extremely sensitive skin and he gets pudgy red marks all over his face due to extensive exposure to sun. He grumbled and then requested me to dig out his skin specialist’s prescription from the study table drawer. I obliged. While rummaging through heaps of paper I came across a bundle tightly wrapped in an old yellowish newspaper with a string tied around it. My curiosity got the better of me and I plonked myself down on the bed and quickly tore open the newspaper keeping the wondrous secrets from my inquisitive eyes.

Childish handwriting, weepy words, emotionally tremulous moments exposed in those short statements, movie stories, Pink Floyd and Dire Strait lyrics, mention of pretty and 'well developed' classmates, desires expressed so explicitly for leggy beauties in skimpy shorts, stolen kisses in movie theaters,complaints about unanswered phone calls, first bike and second hand cars, driving license and accidents which left scars, first dates and thunderous fights, jealous girlfriends and wasted nights, getting drunk and hangovers, first smoke and nursing bad throats, flirting and then saving face, classes bunked and final examination marks, college fever and ragging episodes, pilot's training and dissections performed on 80 year old carcasses, losing parents and weddings in the family, inquiries about neighbours' daughters and dogs...

I laughed till my stomach was in knots, I shed a few tears and then felt stupid about getting so involved. I felt a pang of jealousy when I realized how I have no stock of birthday cards, letters from friends in other cities and overseas, picture postcards sent by cousins who were travelling. How could I be so friendless and desolate. No memories to visit, no assortment of tangible evidence of my being a social being. The joy of peeping into his past and discovering moments of happiness and sorrow that he had shared with those who he was close to was mixed with agony. The remorse for people lost, memories forgotten, moments let go of so easily without a second thought assailed me...

I will cherish my today for tomorrow. I want to look back and know I was loved, discern I was surrounded with people who cared, recall moments and conversations shared. I'll save the little love notes he leaves for me around the house, I'll safe keep all the little momentos I receive...I want to live for tomorrow. I want to grab all thats offered to me today and preserve it for my future...for our future...