You and I, plus 2 years of marriage!

It is over…?

{8}

‘I love this flavour,’ said Uttara licking the roasted almond ice-cream.

‘Well, I like the jackfruit flavour better, but this is good too,’ he said biting the cone.

They were walking out of the ice-cream parlour which was about 1.5km from their apartment. It was their routine weekly visit, which they had begun two weeks after she came home from the hospital. Even though she had always loved ice-cream, eventually she had lost interest in it after a couple of years into marriage. Oblivious to this, one evening she expressed her desire to eat her favourite dessert and Bhuvan had promptly taken her to the nearby ice-cream parlour. Ever since, they made it a point to visit it every week and mostly it used to be on a Saturday. Instead of going there on his bike, they preferred to walk. A cool breeze blew over them and she snuggled closer to him. In response he squeezed her hand gently. She had worn his jacket and her right hand was warmly entwined in his left hand. They both walked as slowly as they could.

‘Do you know where I have kept my certificates and marks card?’

He thought for a moment and once again licked the ice-cream.

‘I think you usually keep it in the cupboard which is in the other room. We use it as a study too, so we keep all the important documents in the drawer of that cupboard.’

‘Alright. I have to finish some formalities for re-joining the company. I need those documents but I simply couldn’t remember where I had kept them,’ she said eating the waffle cone.

‘Well, it’s not surprising. A few days ago you didn’t remember even me,’ he said with a lopsided smile. She giggled at his words. Yes, they had now reached a point where they could joke about her memory loss. She hardly worried about their past and he was glad that she could not recall it. They were happy and peaceful in their world and lived every moment of the present, deeply in love.

It was 9.50pm when they reached home. She went straight into the guestroom to retrieve her documents from the cupboard. Bhuvan stretched out on the sofa and switched on the television. He quickly surfed through the sports channels and found his first love! Football! A slow smile lit up his face when he began watching the match between Germany and Argentina. Well, it was a repeat telecast of the FIFA world cup final, yet football all the same. So what if he had already watched every moment of that match live, it was football and Messi. An irresistible combination!

Bhuvan had lost track of time until it was half-time and advertisements filled the screen of the television. Suddenly he was startled by the fact that it had been more than 3o minutes since Uttara went into the room.

What is taking her so long?

‘Utthi…’

It was the pet name he had given her one evening when he was cuddling her in the balcony. She had instantly taken a liking to it and he continued calling her that way.

‘Utthi, did you find them?’ he asked her, still relaxing on the sofa. 

When she did not answer even after a few moments, he stood up and walked into the room. The door was open and so was the cupboard. A few certificates and marks cards were lying on the floor along with a few other documents. Uttara was seated on the floor with her knees folded up to her chest. Her head was rested on her knees and she was crying. Immediately he went to her and knelt down beside her.

‘Hey, what happened? Why are you crying?’ he asked hurriedly. She did not look up and continued to sob. He gently patted her shoulders and lifted her face. Her eyes were red and her face was stained with tears.  

‘Uttara, what happened? Please don’t cry. Tell me! Why are you crying?’ he asked her in a strained voice and wiped the tears from her cheeks. 

Wordlessly she handed him a hospital file. The moment he saw it, blood drained out of his face. He knew the reason for her misery. He did not know what to tell her and gazed into her distraught eyes. She buried her face in his chest and cried her heart out. He wrapped his hands around her and let the buried tears flow down his cheeks. These were the first tears he was shedding for their child…

‘How could I… do it? I killed… my baby,’ she said in a stammering voice.

‘No… it was not just you. We made the decision together,’ he murmured. She looked up at him and tugged at his shirt.

‘Why did you let me do it? It was our child! I love babies, then why did I kill mine? How cruel I am! I am a murderer…’ she said once again collapsing onto his chest. He embraced her tightly and more tears streamed down his face.

‘I am sorry…I am so sorry. I am responsible for it too, please don’t blame yourself.’

Yet, she was not convinced. Uttara suffered from extreme guilt and hated herself for having done something so unimaginable. For a long time they sat that way until their tears were exhausted. Once her sobbing had somewhat ceased, he made her sit on the floor and brought her a glass of water. Initially she refused to take it, but he gently held it up and made her take a few sips. Then he sat down beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Quietly she rested her head on his hard chest.

‘You were pregnant after 5 months of our marriage. It was a bolt from the blue and you were very anxious about that unplanned pregnancy. We were at crucial stages in our careers and had moved into a rented flat just a couple of months before that. Back then, even our salary was not sufficient and managing the expenses of a child too would have been difficult. Initially I was elated to hear the news that I was going to become a father but it lasted only a few moments. The reality dawned on me very soon and I panicked. We both spoke at length and discussed for a fortnight. At last we came to a mutual decision to abort the child,’ he said slowly. She closed her eyes in pain when she heard the last sentence.

‘There are so many poor parents who raise their children with the limited money they have. Then why were we so selfish to take such a drastic step? I still cannot accept what I have done. I killed my child just because I wanted a comfortable life. I will never be able to forgive myself,’ she said in a muffled tone.

‘I should not have rushed into that decision. Later, I have regretted it many times. Maybe we should have valued our baby more than our own life. I can never forgive myself too…’

‘Our life would have been so much different…’ she said wrapping her arms around him.

‘I am sorry dear,’ he whispered.

‘Me too…’

He gently kissed her forehead and held her close. After the abortion, they had constantly avoided speaking about it. The last time when she spoke about the child he had been so much outraged that he had blamed her. Even though he had not meant it, the words had slipped out of his mouth because he was furious at himself too. This was the first time that they both had unburdened the guilt from their heart. It was the most intimate and important conversation that they had ever had. A feeble sense of solace entered their distressed mind. The guilt was still there and it would always be, but at least they did not have to hide it from each other. He closed his eyes feeling the light weight of her head on his chest. It was the most comfortable way to find peace…

                                    To be continued...