Something of Myself

I.1

She stood silently at the door. She was wearing a crisply ironed Saree. A coy expression on her face - eyes sparkling.

'*****!' she exclaimed - she was simply so elated to be at his doorstep.

They hugged each other. She smelled beautiful.

What is it about human smell? Why is it so unique and everlasting? Why does it stick onto you after decades? The sweet, beautiful smell.

'Did I make you wait for long? I am sorry. Let's go. But before we do...'

They kissed each other.

Now that was in flashback.

Present tense:

She came in. He made her a cup of tea. They sat, silently, without a word. Yet, her eyes, her eyes gave it away. She never knew what being quiet was all about. She was this bundle of energy, always smiling, always talking, always indulging in expansive gesticulations. But today she was quiet.

Is it because the number of years that stood between them were far too many? Had age overtaken emotions? Did the present suck her past? How could she change so much?

She wore a red tee with a pair of blue jeans. She had definitely lost weight ever since he saw him. There was a certain calmness in her eyes now. As if the world could move at its own pace, and she in hers...

After a while she asked:
'So how have you been? What are you doing these days?'

He did not hear. He was still thinking about how he bumped into her on The Magic Roundabout. She was walking towards him and he was praying that it was not her. When he looked away from her, as she was about to walk past him, she stood right in front of him, staring him in the eyes (she was always daring).

'I am good. Been in Mumbai for six years now.'

The last time when they met was at the bank. She had come to make a demand draft and he was waiting in the other queue. They never spoke. Both were angry. Both ashamed at themselves. For not being able to make it work. Guilt percolated lot later. Memories were flooded with beautiful times. Times that his wife would keep to herself. Times that he could never blurt out, even when he was sloshed. Times that made the man he was today.

'I have thought of dropping you a line so many times but I kept holding back.'

Why dammit - he thought!

'Why? Still mad at me?'

'No. Can't be. But still hurts.'

Her ego was hurt. Not her. Her pride took a beating. She was thrown out of the house. Just one of those maddening acts which you keep regretting and carry to your grave.

'I am sorry. I should have listened to you. I thought you were just trying to gain too much control.'

She laughed out loud.

'Can you ever be controlled *****?'

He kept quiet and looked at her - his eyes pregnant with regret. If you knew him, you'd know, he was hardly the kind who nurtured regrets and lived in the world of 'Only if...' But her loss stung him. Not then. But years later. He realised his mistake but it was too late. They say it's never too late to find a newer world. They are wrong. You can't turn back time. You can't fold up life as if it were a scroll. You move on with life. Life moves ahead with you.

'So how are the kids?'

'I don't have any. We broke up two years later.'

'I am sorry to hear that.'

'Don't be. It's alright. Serves me right. I was an idiot to run after money. I thought the diamonds, and the expensive wine would make a fairy tale ending. I was short-sighted.'

They both were actually. Why on Earth would they have parted otherwise? The issues they had could have been resolved with dialogue. But his pride took over hers. And love was too prematured. Does love mature over time, or do people?

'So what are you upto these days?'

'I am working with an NGO for slum children. Since I don't have any of my own, it really feels cathartic to spend time with them.'

They had thought of the name of their first child. It had to be around a 'fruit'. The fruit of their love you see...love that never to be.

'Do you want to have some french fries?'

She loved f.f. She was crazy about them.

'No thanks. I better be going. It was really nice to see you.'

'Why so early?'

He used to say this every time they met. Some habits die hard.

She smiled. He still could not believe the change in her.

'We'll meet up another day. You need to tell me what's happening in your life.'

Nothing, he thought.

They hugged each other. She smelled the same. They held on to each other for a while. Her breath on his shoulders.

She broke the trance. Farewell glances were exchanged. She left him at the door. He went inside and cried. In pursuit of happiness, he had traded peace. He was paying the price everyday of his life.

[to be contd...]