Marriage Of Deceit

by Pushpa Ramchandani

Chapter 4

  Rohit got busy in his job, and I in my adjustment efforts which appeared a Herculian task for me. But I recapitulated my mum’s words, “From now onwards your life will be like a new slate. May you write deeds of goodness on it? They are very good people and Reena is very affectionate and will be like a mother to you.” So I shut all the windows leading to negativity and looked forward to a new ray of hope in my life.

  Rohit was a very loving and doting husband. Mama, as I started calling her was very soft spoken loving and caring. Even my smallest requirements were taken care of. My father in law was hardly audible in the house. A busy medical practitioner left home early, came for lunch, took a short nap and again went for his evening shift. He was the most non interfering person I had ever seen. There were times when I never met him for a couple of days. Sometimes I used to wonder; with this much of physical strain he is neglecting his health, despite him being a doctor.

  We were partying and enjoying with friends and movies. So in a way I acclimatized to the life style of a small city, and the hectic life of Mumbai became a story of the past. The span of seven years rolled away smoothly giving us our beloved son, Aman who was now completing his second birthday. God was great and everything so far was goody good.

  One day Rohit sat in intense thoughts when I inquired, “Darling, something seems to be bothering you, anything wrong?”

  “No, was the cool reply. I was just planning to start some business and leave this job. There appears to be no progress in it, and as you know our demands are increasing with Aman’s schooling to start.”

  Mama sat there a silent listener, just raised her brow and said, “You don’t have any experience of business and it needs a lot of investment to start one.” His quick reply was, “0ne of my friends is in garments manufacture, we can join hands with him initially. “Then in a soft tone he continued, “I can ask Asha’s father to finance my business.” That night was a sleepless night for me. My tumultuous mind kept swaying on the balance of yes and no.

  Next morning mum called us and said, “It’s a long time that we have seen you all. Why don’t you come over for a week and spend time with us. Reena has agreed to send you and Aman. Probably Rohit is busy with work. I am sending E tickets for Sunday.” I was partly relieved of my anxiety. Now I would discuss everything with mum and convey it to Rohit. While dropping us to the airport, Rohit said in a very cool tone, “It’s good that you are going to Mumbai, this visit will relieve you of the tension you are carrying since last night. You can meet your parents, relax and on your return, bring the amount personally.”

  I felt like asking him, was this precisely the reason for sending me? But I remained mute because prior to this mum had to send at least three invitations till they agreed to send me. The last sentence which Rohit while bidding me goodbye was, “My initial requirement will be about two crores, which is not a big amount for them to extend as loan to their daughter.”

  The two hour flight was too long this time. The takeoff journey and then the descend was fathoms and fathoms away. I did not even talk to Aman, and the poor boy went to sleep all through the journey. Mum and dad were both there at the airport. Dad picked up Aman and kissed him all over. Mum hugged me hard and I tried my best for semblance of a relaxed expression. Even after meeting them after more than a year, my excitement seemed to ebb down. I felt like a stranger in my own house. The house where I had spent more than 23 years of my prime time appeared as if I was an intruder. I failed to have an eye to eye contact with my parents. I felt myself like a hypocrite.

  My conscience spoke very clearly and alerted me. I knew my parents had fulfilled their duty in my upbringing, my education, my arranged expensive marriage, and then the innumerable invaluable gifts which they had given at the time of marriage. Not only that, every time I came to see them, the air tickets were sponsored by mum, which ideally should have been paid by Rohit. In a way we were becoming parasites on them. Mum took no time in reading the script written in my mind.

  While sipping our evening tea, she held my hand and said, “Something seems to be bothering you. From the time you have stepped in, you appear to be tense.” I shook my head and said, “No mum, it’s only the feeling of tiredness. Aman is so naughty, and makes me run all day.”

  She raised a brow, smiled and said, “So my little Asha has grown big now, and learnt to drift away from her mother. Let me tell you one thing, you may be staying thousands of miles away from me but I am practically staying with you. I can decipher you mood on the phone, and judge your state of mind, you don’t have to speak a word about it.”

  “No mum its nothing, you are just imagining things,”I said casually. I had decided in my mind not to ask for any loans, even if I had to bear Rohit’s annoyance. I recapitulated very well the discussion between my parents, when I was a little girl. Dad was talking about some friend and saying, “it’s a known fact that if you want to lose a friend, you should extend loan to him, or ask him for loan.’”

  After a week of my stay with my parents, the day of my departure arrived. I was sort of relieved in my mind, to move out because in these 7 days I was fed up of feigning a semblance of calmness. Before leaving my home, tears rolled down my eyes; I felt with a heavy heart, as if I am bidding good bye forever. Mum hugged me hard and handed over an envelope. “No mum, no more gifts now; as it is I have always been taking gifts, gifts and only gifts from you all.”

  She smiled affectionately, kept her hand on my shoulder and said, “Asha I have been observing you right from the moment you stepped into this house. I am your mother and can peep into your turbulent mind and decipher the waves of your thoughts. You held back your mind from me, now take this check of two crores and ask Rohit to start his business with a bang. I fully agree that he is taking this step to give better comforts of life to his family. He is fully aware of the comforts you have been used to. Then it is a loan to finance his business. Asha, he is as dear to us as you and your brother Raj, and we would not hesitate in setting up a business for Raj. So just relax and start the business with a positive frame of mind.

  “Mum, you know, I have acclimatized myself to the existing conditions and so will Aman, then where is the surety of a successful business for a raw person like him, and what is the guarantee of a comfortable future?” was my argument.

  “Sweet heart, success comes only when you plunge into a start with confidence, and not by just thinking about it. So let him go ahead with this venture. God willing he will do well.” Before I could open my mouth for a defense, she pursed my lips tight with her finger and said, “hurry up let’s leave or you miss the flight.”

  I could clearly visualize the glow on Rohit’s face at the sight of the amount. I just prayed for his success in this venture and engrossed myself in my routine chores.

  Rohit became very busy in his new venture of starting his new business. To start with he threw a New Year party, which was a very lavish show of his riches. He did not appreciate his mother’s comment on it. “Son, I believe in being a spendthrift on your own earnings, and not when you are loaded heavily with loans.”

  His expression changed to that of anger, eyes narrowed and he darted back, “Mama, this is a world of pomp and show. Let me manage my own affairs, the way I want to.” Then looking at me he exclaimed; “Now our future will change.”

  From that day on wards mama and I became silent spectators. He engrossed himself in work and used to return late from work. Then started the
growth of Aman with his nursery school, and the expansion of our business which was still facing teething problems. Rohit kept the string in his hands, so we let him loose. His late nights became more frequent, tensions higher and temperaments shorter. At times he did not meet his son for days together, due to late night returns and late rising when the child had already left for school. It was disturbing for me but I did not lose my patience.

  I conceived my second baby, but was very reluctant to continue. It was mama who advised me, “Asha I think you should just go ahead and complete your family of two children. Then is the time for you to extend a helping hand to Rohit who has become very busy. You are from a business class family, well-educated and with a degree in business management.”

  I became fully engrossed in taking care of myself and little Aman and my antenatal checkup.

  One fine morning while sipping my morning cup of tea I heard Rohit on the phone from his room. “I am planning to go for a bigger showroom and expand my business further. I will need another two crores for that. So send the check soon.” There was no prefix of please or request. It was a direct order to my father, and he did not think it necessary to involve me in it this time. He disconnected the phone without giving me a chance to say hi, hello to my parents.

  Now I could not withhold myself from intervening; “Rohit, there is no need to extend your loan to expand your business. As it is you come home so late why do you want to expand the business, at cost of your health?” His sarcastic reply was, “Asha dear, we will need more income to bring up our second child. “Then after a short pause he added, “You won’t understand all this is pure business. Then I am working hard for you and your children.”

  “What do you mean my children? They are yours too and their demands are not very high. I will manage to make both ends meet, with whatever earning you have. So don’t burden yourself with extra work and added loans. As it is we have not returned a penny out of our previous loan.”

  Even after hearing our argument, my father in law lent a deaf ear, picked up his briefcase and left for his hospital. Mama feigned to be busy making breakfast, and showed herself to be helpless. Rohit paced the room making great effort to maintain a semblance of calmness in his expression, and finally blurted out, “I have already ordered the goods and payments have to be made in time. If they don’t send the money, all is gone, the company name and reputation is at stakes.”

  I deliberately picked up the phone and talked to mum, “I request you and dad not to send any more amounts.” His annoyance burst out like a volcanic blast and he yelled loudly, “Then let them be happy when I am behind bars.” Before I could disconnect the phone, his last sentence had been conveyed to mum.

  Gloom enveloped me the whole day. I felt lethargic and depressed, hyperemesis gravid arum made me worse. My wild thoughts went astray, and I traversed through the changes which had come into a new unconcerned Rohit. I had mistaken these changes to be due to pressure of overwork and my conception tensions. I just hoped that my parents would be sensible and not send any more amounts which now were not a request for a loan but a birth right demand. In other words it was the price to be paid by them for my happiness.

  Monday morning, a vibrant ring of the doorbell made Rohit rush to open the front door. Yes it was a courier man who delivered an envelope to him which he rushed to open urgently. How I wished the courier had come a little late, after Rohit had left for his office. I could have easily torn the papers. My thoughts were interrupted by his exclamation, “Oh| this time they have sent the check in your name; so they seem to have lost faith in me. Well how does that matter, the account is in joint names. Mama, I am leaving, no breakfast today. I have to rush to the bank and make the payments.”

  I just pondered into the whole situation and made a tentative mental decision. So many pregnant ladies are working, then why not me? I conveyed my mind to my mother in law who surprisingly agreed .All that she was concerned about was my health. I projected myself strong both physically and mentally and reached Rohit’s office after noon. On reaching there I was respectfully greeted by the workers who escorted me to Rohit’s office. He was not in his office. On inquiring about his whereabouts, I was told that he has gone out for lunch with his secretary. My brow raised, as I was not aware of the existence of a secretary, so I waited in his office. After an hour’s wait, Rohit and his secretary entered the office. Rohit was not only astonished but literally shocked to see me there.

  With him walked in a young girl in her late twenties, his hand around her waist and shoulders rubbing in friction with each other. She wore a dark pink skin tight top defining all the curves of her body giving prominence to certain parts, Encircled around her 28 inch wait the black Capri pants left below knee portion bare to show off her lean thin shaped legs. The 4 inch pencil heel brought her height to Rohit’s shoulder. Her dark brown hair tied up in a French knot, with a tendril or two playing on her forehead, so was the color of her shining crystal brown eyes which expressed her emotions through the mascara painted long lashes. Her sinfully captivating lips were beautifully formed, perfectly straight with a faint soft smile playing on them. They were painted in matching pink shade of her top. There was a shimmering wonderful excitement in her looks on entry, which suddenly changed with my presence.

  Rohit appeared confused, and muddled; slight annoyance reflected in his expression, but exclaimed in a cool tone, “Hey! How come you are here? You could have called me to pick you up.”

  Then introducing me to his companion he said, “She is Meeta, my secretary. It is her birthday today, so we went out for lunch.”

  “Happy birthday,” I extended my warm hand to clasp her cold and clammy hand, and she feigned a smile but beads of perspiration could not be concealed. “Now that I am coming here daily, I will always remember to wish you on this day.” Then giving my introduction I said, “I am Mrs.Rohit, nice meeting you.”

  Rohit raised his brow and exclaimed, “You must be joking. You can’t leave the kids behind and start working.”

  My reply was cool and casual, “we will discuss our personal problems at home. I realized that you are already overworked, and with expansion of business my helping hand should be more than welcome.” So I stayed back and occupied the chair adjacent to his. Meeta left the office and went to her own chamber. After a full day’s work, the entire staff packed up and left. Rohit and I reached home in time for a family dinner together. Little Aman kept awake to come running and hug me, “mom where were you? Why didn’t you take me along?” I planted innumerable kisses on his face hugged him hard and said. “Darling Dad gets tired working the whole day so I will have to help him till you grow big and help him.”

  “I am so big; I can go with you and help.” We all laughed at his innocent reply.

  I was already having hunger cramps in my stomach and rushed for a quick dinner. Mama intervened, “Asha from tomorrow I will pack some snacks for you, so that you don’t have long gaps of empty stomach.” I nodded my head in agreement.

  Rohit’s concerned tone was clearly objecting to my working with him, “Mama I don’t want you to spoil your health. With all the domestic chores and looking after Aman, will be too much work for you”

  I interrupted immediately, “I have arranged a nanny for Aman who will help mama in her routine work also. We are more concerned about your health now. I need to share your workload after expansion of our business.�
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  After a month of work I had to stay back home due to Aman’s illness. Taking him for medical checkup to a pediatrician, and giving him timely medicines. It took full 10 days for him to recover fully. Mama was concerned about my health too, gave me full support. What surprised me was that Rohit did not show much concern about Aman or his illness.

  It was a Sunday morning, all had breakfast together, Rohit left for some stock checking in his office. I wanted to prepare everything for Aman’s school on Monday.

  Rohit returned when we were done with dinner. Along with him was Meeta. He introduced her saying, “Mama, this is my secretary Meeta. Her parents have gone out of station, so she will stay with us.” Mama was astonished, but out of courtesy she said, “That’s fine she can share the room with me downstairs.”

  “No she will be fine sharing the children’s room with us;” was his blunt reply.

  “Aman wakes up sometimes, so why disturb her sleep; I’ll make her comfortable in my room.” Mama replied.

  Without paying any heed, he just carried her suitcase upstairs and took her up and closed the door behind him. This bold and stubborn step taken by him seemed to be the turning point of my life. What surprised me was the mute spectator like behavior of his parents. Mama just hung her head down and slowly walked into her room and Papa to his room. They were both mute and spellbound.

  I went up to my room, brought Aman down to mama’s room and relaxed on the rocking chair. Sleep was fathoms away from my eyes.

  I repented in my turbulent mind for not informing his parents of the entire situation at the office. I looked at the oval golden Guchi watch on my wrist, the needles standing at right angles showed the time as 3 am. I was startled by a loud snoring type of sound from papa’s room, which appeared like abnormal breathing. So I woke up mama and inquired, “Why is he breathing with such effort, it does not appear to be snoring.

  We both rushed to his room, and found papa in a reclined posture, froth trickling down his mouth and nose. Sweat had pooled damply under the weight of his greying, salt and pepper hair, on his neck and forehead. It had soaked completely his cotton dress. His voice fractured as he tried to speak. Bubbles of froth blossomed and escaped with every breath he tried to inhale. The snoring which had alerted us was the strenuous breathing. He was all drenched in perspiration, eyes bulging with the effort of respiration, lips blue and parched

  Mama screamed out loudly, Rohit, come down. Daddy is having an attack.” Even My spontaneous cry was loud for help. Rohit was probably fast asleep or lost in his beloved’s embrace. May be he thought we were trying to disturb their pleasure drive deliberately. There was no response and no time to waste. I saw daddy gasping and calculated the emergency, so I said, “Mama he is collapsing, let’s shift him to the emergency in B.J. hospital.

  So we literally dragged him into the car and reached the hospital within no time. Seeing his condition they shifted him to the ICU and put him on a ventilator. A drip and some injections were administered urgently. As we watched all this through the glass window, we just prayed that all will turn out well. Within 10 minutes the senior consultant who had done his checkup, came out with a gloomy expression and said, “He is no more. It was a severe attack of myocardial infarction associated with left ventricular failure.”

  It was a black night for our family. Mama was shattered. We waited for all the formalities to be completed. It was then that we realized that we had left little Aman unattended in his bed. Mama asked me to go home and send Rohit. On reaching home I went to the staircase, traced my fingers along the metallic railing. I looked up towards the bedroom with its closed door, put one foot on the bottom step, but didn’t want to climb further. I just did not want to go to disturb them.

  Then realizing the urgency of the situation I rushed upstairs knocked on their door, there was no response. Then forgetting all my manners, I banged hard on the wooden door and shouted out his name. The door opened after a few minutes. Annoyance peeped from his voice and expression as he yelled, “Why don’t you let me sleep?”

  I did not even wish to glance inside the room for fear of seeing some indecent view, so I just said in a disgusted tone, “mama wants you in the hospital immediately,” before giving him a chance for any further queries, ”Dad is no more. At least go and console your mother.” Then I rushed down to Aman’s room who was already awake. I saw both of them leaving the house after ten minutes.

  After that followed a fortnight of all the rituals and final prayers for the departed soul. Coming and going of guests to convey their heartfelt condolences. My mum and dad also visited for two days; seeing the sad atmosphere in the family, it was all related to the demise of dad, rather than any other reason, as Meeta had left on the first day. I just hoped that guilt complex would keep her away from Rohit.

  The sound of multiple jet planes taking off over my head gave a deafening effect in my ears. . All around me there was panic, People rushed past me screaming. Sirens screamed overhead, bombs falling like rain all over. Panic tore me, people rushed past, screaming for their dear ones. Bloodied bodies and lifeless bodies lay scattered around the wreckage. I tried my best to run for help but my listless legs refused to work. I was completely paralyzed, I felt chocked with terror. I thought this was the end, and now I will die, but I was not ready to die. Just before the inevitable happened, my face hit the rocky floor and I woke up. I was relieved to analyze that this was a frightening nightmare. I reveled in it momentarily and my crisis of real life ushered in. I felt death would have been a better alternative than my present agony. I was having near death nightmares continuously.

  I wanted to forget the whole incidence, and erase it out of my memory card, but it kept on hammering in my brain. Every bit of it was fresh.

  That ill-fated Sunday was fresh in my memory, when mama and Aman went out for some grocery shopping. Meeta, who had creeped back after thirteen days of dad’s demise, as usual went to the gym. I was working in the kitchen to prepare something special for lunch. It was only 15 days of dad’s death. Rohit slammed the front door closed, entered the kitchen, and yelled. “You killed my father, why did you not wake me.”

  I was aghast and glared back at him. Before I opened my mouth to speak, and tell him that not only me but his mother had also yelled for his help, he raised his right hand and slapped me hard on my left check missing my eye by a whisker. Then he shouted, “You wanted to be a hero, and manage everything on your own.” His eyes were blood shot and disgust crept in.

  As I stood there in silence, I noticed my brain did not begin its usual panicked racing for a suitable answer. I closed my eyes, to help myself focus before I answered anything. I was so shocked at his raising a hand on me that I felt extremely drained out and exhausted and unable to defend myself. The next moment he flung his fist into my face knocking me against the wall. The dining table was in between and the bottom of my spine banged against the corner of the table which pierced into my back like a dagger. As I endeavored to protect my head and face from injury, I did not beg him to stop, not even insisting him to let me explain.

  To my dismay, as I swayed back from the wall, he scrambled me to the floor, and kicked me hard in my tummy. I sank down with excruciating pain, wincing with pain. Then he bent down effortlessly, pulled me up by a firm grip of both my arms, dragged me to the center of the room, punc
hed me hard on the chest, my body arched back and banged against the fridge and then down to the floor. I heaved and coughed due to pain, struggling to all fours to breathe.

  He appeared under some evil spell, and shouted, “come here you bitch, I’ll teach you a lesson.”He caught hold of a tuft of my long hair, pulling me from the floor, I swirled around and his final punch on my face turned me around and I fell face wards on the glass table,breaking it into pieces and piercing tiny glass bits into my face. I just prayed that I should either get unconscious or die. My last thought was that I would never see my family; I would never see Aman again.

  Despite the utter wrongness of his actions, he projected power with his gaze and surrounded himself with an aura of inner strength. Was this the same man whom I had loved with all my heart and soul for the last four years? I was in extreme agony to figure out the logistics of his action. I knew very well that when you fear so many things, you can only quit your fear by giving it to others. This was exactly what he was trying to do. A million thoughts ran through my mind. After what seemed an eternity, he stopped seeing me collapse unconscious.

  When I opened my eyes, only one eye could get a vision of the room, the other was very painful probably due to edema after blunt injury. I moaned with pain, and heard mama call for the doctor. I passed a glance around and found myself in a hospital room. I was not in a condition to reply when mama said, “Asha how did you fall from the staircase and hurt yourself so badly?” So this was the story Rohit had told her.

  This was certainly not the Rohit whom I had married and loved him with all my body, my heart and my soul. He broke my body into pieces without any fault of mine. I pondered over the entire obnoxious incidence. Was it his father’s sudden death which drove him crazy? Was it a means to turn me out of his life because of the other woman? Or was he trying to terrorize me to obey him and bear with all his activities like an obedient child. I was yet not able to ascertain. Despite all this, my heart reached out for him with an intimidating force.

  I could feel his presence somewhere in the room. With clenched teeth I thought about him attacking me so brutally. I was trembling and nauseous, determined to punch my love for him across the very thin line to hatred. I was in a strange tug of war pulling him towards and away from me.

  Then I felt a warm touch on my forehead, and took no time in identifying it as his hand. He begged for pardon holding my hand tightly in both his. This gesture nearly killed me. His tears mingled into mine when he bent down to kiss that part of my forehead that was not bruised. Momentarily I wondered how I could even dream of surviving without him. He was my life, my courage, my guidance. We had loved each other so much. The room was in eerie stillness, silence drilled through my ears. Tears streamed with immense speed and choked my breath, fighting desperately with my lungs to breathe through the fractured ribs. I winced with pain and let go of his hand.

  It was then that the doctor entered accompanied by the nurse. My painful moaning reminded him of the painkiller dose which was due. Pain became almost unbearable; I closed my eyes and became oblivious to the surroundings. I felt a prick in my arm which immediately made me feels light and as if I was floating. Probably some pain killers and hypnotics had been injected into my blood. Initially my pain was not completely knocked out, but in due course of time I became euphoric, silent and finally comatose.

  When I came around, I was reeling with pain, incoherent, with a fuzzy feeling, lightheadedness and a weird feeling of euphoria. I was too delirious to even find out where I was, and totally ignorant of the events of yesterday.

  “Good morning, Mrs.Asha, how are you feeling now? Do you know you have been sleeping continuously for two days?” Was the sympathetic voice of a short stout nurse holding my pulse with her warm hand? Then she continued in the same soft voice, “Well, Asha dear, we have been able to save your life, but unfortunately the child in your womb could not survive the injuries and you aborted as soon as you were brought to the hospital. Your baby girl was too premature to be alive. Luckily your uterus had not ruptured with all the blunt injuries.

  Now you are out of danger, but it will take nearly six weeks for your fractured ribs to heal. Your facial injuries will heal within a week or ten days.” She raised her brow and asked, “But how did you sustain so many injuries just falling down from a staircase? I think this was the first case of its type in all my years of experience.” I felt like screaming out, “no it was not a fall from the staircase, it was the brutality of my husband.” But I was too weak to even speak a word, so I just turned my head the other way and let the brimming tears flow down. So I had lost my dear little Sona even before she had entered this world. I had strong intrusions of a baby girl this time and had even named her Sona.

  The nurse snapped me to attention, “you are lucky to be alive, but in future you have to be more careful and avoid these types of accidents.” She laid special stress on the last four words ‘these type of accidents as if she was fully aware of the type of accident. After all she was a trained paramedical staff attached to an experienced doctor. Then she tied a corset around my chest and said, “This will give support to your ribs and enable you to breathe easily.”

  Before leaving the room she held my hand tight and said, “I have a surprise for you, look who is there to see you?”

  As the door flung open I was stunned to behold my parents rushing into the room. Mum arched over me and bent to hug me taking due care of my broken ribs. “Oh, my God, what has happened to you sweet heart.” As she hugged me, for a Nano second there was vicious pain in my ribs, but it was more of the emotional surge that gave me comfort. I was so relieved to see them.

  “I am fine.” was my whisper reply, though I knew I would never be fine both physical and mentally. She looked completely dazed as she kept a tender hand on my fore head. “Look at your beautiful face, it’s all bruised and swollen.” Her voice was disturbed and compassionate. Mum was just rattling away, questioning me and answering herself. She was trying to make sense of the nonsensical scene, touching me tenderly all over and caressing my swollen and tender body.

  Suddenly I felt an overwhelming ache at my plight and thought what a miserable wife and daughter must be. I wasn’t strong enough to admit to being such an obscene failure in my married life. Mum was going on sobbing like a little toddler and repeating, “What’s happened to my little girl, she is bruised all over, who on earth did all this?” Her last sentence alarmed me; her eye was shrewd enough to make her judgment. I just stared blankly at her and my swollen eyes soaked with pools of tears. Through the blur I looked passionately at mum and heard her shrieks.

  After a while they all left the room I caught hold of mum’s hand indicating to stay back with me. She closed the door and said softly, “Darling, tell me exactly what happened? This is surely not a fall from the staircase.” Tears rolled down again, all efforts to hold them back failing, and just said, “Mum, I want to go home with you.” I had to tell her everything otherwise I would explode.

  Her reply was prompt, “Of course baby, we won’t leave you in this lousy hospital for treatment.” She ran out to call Reena, Rohit, and dad; and said, she wants to go with us and we are taking her by the next flight to some good hospital in Mumbai. Rohit intervened immediately saying, “Everything will be fine in a few days, and she can’t travel in this condition.”

  I just glared at him asking a silent question, “You expect me to stay back after what you have done to me, how can everything be fine between y
ou and me now?”

  I was suddenly overcome by a fervent need to get out. I did not have any purpose of staying back to be manipulated into loving him anymore. I made a strong decision in my mind and did not want to give myself any time to falter and be sucked into his love prongs again. Momentarily I repented over my hasty decision to walk out on him. But then I had my own dignity and self-respect, which was at stakes. I had loved Rohit more than life itself, but I refused to spend the rest of my life in misery because of it. I felt there was too much deception and manipulation in our marriage to go back to the way things were. When deceit enters silently, it leads to infidelity and disloyalty.

  Even his tears appeared fake to me now. I did not want to leave my child rudderless amidst the deep ocean of my grief. I reconciled to the bitter disappointment by telling myself that my priority and duty of a good mother was of prime importance, a good wife was not my cup of tea now.