Two Strangers… One Lockdown!
{8}

I was desperate to know more about her. Unable to restrain myself, I decided to ask him directly.


‘How did you meet her?’ I asked him finally.
‘This flat belongs to my friend but his family moved to Canada a couple of years ago. When I changed jobs, my posting was in Bengaluru and he offered me this place for rent. He said that I could stay here as long as I wanted to and later if I want, I could buy this flat from him. The next day after shifting here, I had gone to purchase groceries from the store on the ground floor. I was literally struggling with my bags when I entered the elevator and she entered right after me. When the lift stopped at the 6th floor, she got out but suddenly turned around and put her hand in between the elevator doors. I looked at her perplexed. She asked me if she could help me with my bags and I don’t know why, I just could not say no to her. By the time, she had placed the groceries in the kitchen and left, she had invited me for coffee and also suggested a good cook and maid for the house. And as they say, rest is history,’ he said with a smile,

‘But I want to know more about her, Atharva.’

The little he told about her only increased my curiosity more.

‘Well, then you should spend some time with her personally. Only then you will understand what a woman she is. Anyway, she will come here tomorrow to see her portrait, you could speak to her that time. And don’t worry, she will make you comfortable around her in no time.’
‘Okay. By the way, can I see her portrait?’

My question took him by surprise. But I was very eager to see the completed painting. He nodded his head and led me to the painting room. He switched on the lights and there it was! It was as if Ekaparnika was indeed standing in front of me. She was turning to her left slightly but her eyes were looking at me. There was the scar from her right eyebrow which went up to her cheek. It was probably a cut which must have been sutured later. Then my eyes fell on her left hand. It was reaching behind her as if she was trying to hold something back. What I had not noticed before was that there was a small hand reaching from behind and clutching her saree below her knees. The small hand had one green and one red bangle on it. It was indeed a captivating portrait. Last time when I had seen the unfinished portrait, I had actually not paid attention to details. But now, I took my time to completely investigate it. He had very meticulously painted even the folds of her saree. Out of the complete painting, it was her eyes which arrested my attention. There was a mix of emotions. I could not exactly say if she was sad, afraid or angry or a mix of all the three emotions. Atharva stood behind me quietly. He let me take my time to admire his painting.

‘It is a masterpiece,’ I said turning around.

He let out his breath in relief.

‘Thank you Sharini,’  he said absolutely pleased with himself.
‘Whose is this small hand?’
‘She is the little Bhuvi, Ekaparnika’s only daughter.’

I was shocked. I don’t know why but I had assumed that she was single.

‘Oh, how old is her daughter? She is about three years old. A very charming and sweet little girl. Sometimes, I bring her here and spend my evenings with her. She loves that swing in the balcony.’

Then why did Ekaparnika come alone today? Where is her husband? Was he at home taking care of the child? How did he allow his wife to spend so much time in another man’s house? Was he so broad-minded? Was she even staying with her husband here? But he never said anything about her husband. I had to literally stop my head from reeling. It was too much information to process in one evening about that mysterious woman in his life.  Maybe I could get answers to all my questions tomorrow.

‘Thank you for letting me see the portrait. I should get some sleep now. Good night.’
‘Good night,’  he said and switched off the lights of the room once I walked out.

***

I had ordered biryani from our favourite restaurant and placed it in the hot pack. The rasgullas were stored in the fridge and I had safely placed the chocolate sundae in the freezer. It was our third wedding anniversary and I was eagerly waiting for him to come home. The past few months had been tumultuous between us. Almost every other week we had arguments and later we would not speak to each other for days. Then either one of us would start speaking and then the situation would somewhat improve. This had now become a routine and it scared me that this cold war would not end so easily. There was something bothering me about Atharva. He had become restless and lost his temper easily. Sometimes, he kept tossing on the bed and one day when I woke up, I found him staring at the ceiling with his eyes open. And another day he was watching TV around 3.30 AM. We had barely gone out in the past three months. My mother-in-law had also asked me if everything was okay between us because he had stopped calling her every day and even if he did call her, his conversation was very brief. I gave her some excuse and blamed it on his work stress.

Today was an important day for both of us and I wanted to surprise him. I expected that it would bring him back to normalcy. I heard the door-bell ring and I opened the door. I had draped the maroon saree that he had bought me for last Diwali. He looked tired as usual.
‘
Hi, Avi.’
‘Hey,’ he said and went inside without even giving me a second glance.

On any other day, I would have called him to look at me again but not today. Something was just not right. I heated the biryani and laid the table. He washed his face and changed into his shorts and t-shirt. I called him to eat dinner and he slowly walked to the dining table. He sat down while I served some biryani onto his plate and placed two rasgullas in a cup next to his plate.

‘Happy anniversary, Avi,’ I said with a smile and waited for is response.

There was no surprise or smile on his face. It was blank.

‘What happened, Avi? It is our third wedding anniversary today.’
‘I quit my job,’ he said in a lifeless tone.

I felt as if somebody pulled away the floor from beneath me.

‘What do you mean? How can you just quit your job like that?’

He simply stood up and walked away from me. But I was not going to let him get away with this. I held his hand and made him face me.

‘Tell me what happened, Avi? Why did you quit your job?’
‘Leave me, Sharini. Don’t ask me anything about it. I will go mad if I stay in that job for another day!’

He was seething with anger and it was radiating through his body. He had never called me by my full name unless he was angry.

‘I am your wife, dammit! I need to know why you left that job. Have you forgotten that we won’t be able to run the house unless we both earn? We have EMIs to pay every month.’
‘To hell with your EMIs! I never wanted this house. It was you who wanted to buy the house and now I have to slog to pay the EMI.’
‘Atharva, don’t speak as if you are the only one earning in this house. I am also paying the EMI for the car you so badly wanted to buy.’

At this point we both were shouting at the top of our voices.

‘Fine! Let us sell this house and car. I don’t need them anymore. But there is no way I am going back to that office,’ he yelled back at me.
‘Then what do you aim to do in life? You will reach nowhere if you sit at home without a job. We will have no status and you will never get back this lifestyle.’
‘I don’t need this lifestyle, Sharini! I am sick of paying EMIs and credit card bills every month. We are not even making any savings. At the end of the month, there is absolutely nothing left in our bank accounts.’
‘What nonsense! This house itself is a big investment for us. None of your relatives would have ever even dreamt that you would be buying such a house in Delhi.’
‘Why the hell are we even living in Delhi?! Both our families are in Mumbai. Just because we earn more salaries, we shifted here. Now, to keep up the lifestyle of this city, our salaries are never sufficient. I simply hate this place!’
‘Yeah, right! Go back to the same house where you were staying before. There was barely any place to even keep all my clothes. It was only after you married me that your life improved. Otherwise, you would still be living in that pigeonhole with your mother without any standard!’

Slap!

I didn’t remember how his hand landed on my cheek. There was a stinging sensation on my cheek and a ringing sound in my ear. When I looked up his face was contorted with extreme anger. My hand caressed the cheek which hurt. There was no apology from him. Not even the slightest expression of remorse on his face. Quietly, I went into the bedroom and packed my trolley bag with some of my clothes. Carrying my office backpack and my trolley bag, I walked out of that house and his life.

Tears rolled down my cheek when the memories of that day haunted my night. I still could not understand why he had quit his job in the first place. There must have been some underlying problem that I had failed to notice. Yet, I still could not forgive his slap. I could not go back to sleep either…

To be continued...

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

You and I, plus 2 years of marriage!

Image
When people say first year of marriage is hard, I tell them to live the second year in isolation with your spouse in a lockdown! First year of marriage was a breeze because of the pampering we received from both sets of parents. Later when career made us move to the capital of the country, we were literally on our own. Right from purchasing household items to getting them transported across cities, it was not easy. Finally, when we moved in to the house, which we made our home, the journey of challenges had only just begun. Although I was no stranger to cooking, I had never managed a house all on my own. For a woman, it can be quite daunting, terrifying indeed! Because it was no longer about my own hunger, there was another homo sapien who was equally hungry if not less. I remember the initial days when it was hard for me to manage office work and household chores. All my frustration unfortunately landed on my husband, who was already trying his best to cope with new set of responsibil...
Read more
A Few Moments of Silence … {1} The monsoon had begun a week earlier than the forecast, much to the relief of Bengalureans. It was a dull afternoon with grey clouds, which were heavy with the promise of a pleasant downpour. Abhimanyu looked through the slides of his presentation one last time. He slid his arms into the light blue blazer when his phone began ringing. Before answering the call he made a mental note to put it on silent mode during the meeting. ‘Hello… Ma? Is it something important? I have a meeting in five minutes,’ he said impatiently. ‘Are you at work? But today is Madhu’s birthday!’ He froze. The next second, he peered at the table calendar. The date was well registered in his mind but only for the sake of the meeting. His mouth went dry and he was unable to answer his mother. ‘Abhi, don’t tell me that you have forgo—’ ‘Ma, I have to go now. I will call you later.’ Without allowing his mind to think about the brief conversation, he put hi...
Read more
Two Strangers… One Lockdown! {4} After a few seconds, the door opened and first thing I noticed was Atharva standing with a palette in his hand. He looked surprised and frowned at my sudden appearance. ‘Yes?’ ‘Actually, I have a virtual meeting and it would be better if I have Wi-Fi connection. Would you please share the password?’ ‘Well, I don’t have Wi-Fi here, but I do have a dongle. You could use it. Come in,’ he said and let me inside the room. The room was filled with empty and half-done painting canvases. There were tubes and bottles of paints lying around with brushes in all shapes. Honestly, I had no idea that he was the one who had painted all the paintings hanging on the walls of the house. I had never seen him paint before although he had mentioned that he used to paint as a teenager and college student. Somehow, I did not ask him why he had stopped painting or rather I assumed that work life must have kept him away from painting. Suddenly, my eyes fel...
Read more