‘But mom,’ Aisha said, throwing out her arms, ‘why do I have to baby sit Rohan all the time? This is the fourth time’ - she gnashed her teeth and faced Priya – ‘she’s asking me for this favour in the last one month. I can’t tolerate that kid. Why can’t she take him along with her? Is she ashamed of her own child or what?’
‘Hey!’ Priya groaned, thrusting a hand in Aisha’s chest. ‘Watch your words, you bitch!’
Aisha staggered backward and struggled to avert a slip.
I watched the drama in complete dismay from a distance, clear in my head, any action by me would cause an equal and opposite reaction. Needless to say, I stood `my ground.
‘Oh! How dare you!’ Aisha took a step forward and thrust both her arms violently over Priya watching her stumble over the floor. ‘You!’ she said, wagging a baleful finger at Priya, ‘watch your words.’
In an instant Priya rose to her feet and pushed Aisha who reciprocated back the gesture. Seconds later the scene became uglier with both of them slapping and kicking each other. My grandmother came rushing out from her room with the commotion and her eyes were met by a wall-eyed mom. I stood hiding behind the wall with a mouth that refused to shut.
Both of them kept screaming, ‘You bitch!’ and pushed each other, and it was then when it became the ugliest. They began yanking each other’s hair and whined in pain. And just then, it happened.
Aisha stared at the object in her hands with a gaping mouth and then glanced at Priya. Confusion swept past her face which later broke into a smile. Seconds later she was laughing uncontrollably. ‘Oh my God!’ said Aisha. ‘You’re…bald, ha, ha, ha, and, you…you wear a wig. Oh God, I have to take your picture and upload it on facebook, ha, ha, ha.’
Priya rooted her eyes to the ground and couldn’t hide her embarrassment. Her glum expression didn’t stop Aisha from giggling.
A minute later when Aisha refused to calm down, mom took a step forward, and hurled her arm across her face. ‘Don’t you dare make fun of my daughter, do you get it?’
‘But mom,’ Aisha said, wiping the tears from the back of her hands, ‘she is the one who starte-’
‘Just shut up!’ mom hissed. ‘And get out of here!’ She threw out her arm to our room’s direction.
Slowly, Aisha turned around making her way out.
‘And one more thing,’ mom called out. ‘Next time never tell Priya this is not her house. Of course this IS HER HOUSE!’
Aisha trudged toward our room dejectedly.
I turned around and walked the other way, down the street. I shouldn’t be going in there for some time, few days perhaps.
‘Oh, thank God you came,’ Aisha said, lifting her head from her knees. Her legs were tugged close to her body and arms wrapped around them. Her eyes were wet and pudgy, perhaps from all the crying since the last two hours. Her voice was hollow and there was a careworn edge to it. ‘Where have you been all this while?’
‘Have you been crying?’ I asked, ignoring her question, closing the door behind me. ‘What happened?’
‘Your bloody sister, what else?’ she replied, wiping her tears. ‘You know how much she abuses and ill-treats me? Why can’t she stay in her own house? And your mother also doesn’t support me; you know she slapped me today. What is this Ronit?’
I rested my forehead in my arms. ‘Why can’t you just ignore her,’ I said. ‘I mean just take it from one ear and out from the other.’ Like I do, I wanted to add.
‘And that’s the solution I expect from my supporting husband?’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘Oh God, why did I ever get married?’
I tutted and withdrew from her gaze.
‘Why can’t you ever be supportive Ronit?’
I turned my gaze back at her. And there, it was back – the horns, crooked nails, blazing red eyes, and piercing teeth.
‘Why don’t you care about me anymore?’ she said, running her hand over her eyes. ‘Your sister orders me to baby sit her stupid son so she can have a good time outside. You also leave me alone in the house every day, where you go, what you do, I have no clue. Your mother slaps me in front of everyone; if I don’t listen to them I’m warned I’ll be thrown out of the house, and you’ - she made a face, gritting her teeth - ‘DON’T EVEN BOTHER ABOUT ANYTHING! YOU ONLY CARE ABOUT YOUR FOOD AND YOUR DAMN WORLD CUP!’
I bit on the last bit of chicken seekh that clung between my teeth. Hmm…nothing beats a cold beer and hot chicken kebabs. ‘Khan Chacha’s’ food is delightful and I always find it much better than its counterpart ‘Bade Miya’ of Mumbai. Tomorrow I’ll try tangri kebab, another of his specialties. Or probably a chicken roll, but I’ll tell him to put some more green chutney and onions in it; he had put it sparingly last time.
‘…but you were not like this before marriage. You have completely changed now. All you care about is your family; I’m the least of your priorities. Do you even love me now? I doubt it. You don’t even take me out for dinner or a movie. I’m always stuck in this house with your stupid family. And I know what you’ll be thinking now: another day, another lecture. Why can’t she ever be quiet, what is wrong with her? Maybe…’
No, I wasn’t thinking about that now. In fact, I wasn’t thinking anything. I was just noticing the straw that pierced my arm and lead straight to her mouth. In between her hoarse tone she’d suck on it and gulp down my blood. No wonder, I was getting leaner day by day while her skin a tomatoey colour. With a hesitation I glanced at her. She went on haranguing me and I was struck by that frightening look. Those red eyes were damn scary, the horns over head quivered back and forth with the movement of her body, and a messy lock of bedraggled hair flew down her face failing to hide those long and jagged teeth jutting out her mouth.
‘WHAT?’ the devil grunted. ‘Where are you lost? Are you even listening to me?’
‘Y..y..e…s..s..s, I….a..m…’ I floundered.
Later that night, during my fitful sleep, a thought occurred to me. Did I make a mistake getting married?
Of course! came the abrupt answer.
25. WHO CAN YELL LOUDER?
April 2011, Delhi
In the coming days, our marriage went from bad to worse. I could sense things changing in front of my eyes but couldn’t do anything about it. We slept miles apart on the bed, seldom talked, our eyes hardly met - when they did it was more for obligatory reasons than for affection, like how many chapattis will you have, when would you be back home, et cetera – and sex was definitely out of question.
One Sunday morning in the month of April, I slowly sipped coffee in my room and wondered where our marriage was headed. Aisha quietly arranged the wardrobe toward my right. I could tell from her demeanour, her mind was elsewhere.
‘Ronit, um…,’ she began. My throat tightened. ‘I was just wondering if we could shift to a new home, you know where no one else is around.’
‘Why would you say that?’ I asked, looking up and meeting her eyes. ‘What is the problem here?’ I didn’t even remember when was the last time I looked at them, probably last Saturday when I yelled at her and gave her a piece of my mind.
‘You don’t see any problem here?’ she said, raising her voice by an octave.
She always began softly but the conversation would always culminate with her yelling. I wasn’t too far behind in that now. I had some male ego after all. Every morning, every afternoon, every evening, the devil had something to bicker about. Then last Saturday I completely lost it and yelled back at her causing thick tears to emerge from her eyes. That didn’t deter me and I continued my rant. All I told her was to maintain cordial relations with my sister for a few more weeks. Things were finally settling in at her place and she would move out of our house. She was anyway depressed with her own marriage falling apart and a kid, the least you can do is give her that consideration, I told her. To this she said why does mom not take her side at least? My mother was obviously worried about Priya and so naturally she always took her side. But Aisha had a problem with that as wel
l.
I asked her to keep her anger to herself and just be polite with both of them. To this she yelled back saying why should she be taking Priya’s nonsense?
There we go again. So I yelled back louder, ‘bitch! Did I not tell you the reason just now? Because she’s having problems in her own house, you bimbo, do you never understand?’
And then she sobbed louder.
Why do women never understand? I have lived with them for twenty five years, how can I not support them for a woman I have known just seven years? And isn’t marriage all about compromises. She keeps flagellating me with her bullshit of what she expects from me, what a woman wants, how a good husband should behave and related crap, then why doesn’t she get this little thing. That’s the only thing I want from her. Only thing any married man wants as opposed to the long list of women.
So what does she do the next day - she tells my grandmother if Priya can’t get up in the morning for the prayers, even she can’t. And there was a tinge of rudeness in her voice as per my mother who narrated the incident to me that evening. So again, we had another fight, and I yelled at her. That yelling did another thing. It made the devil disappear, only temporarily though, as she was not the one who would stay quiet. With her yelling, the devil always returned but with my counter yelling, it disappeared. So lately we had started playing this little game I liked to call, ‘Who can yell louder?’
‘HEY! You don’t see any problem here?’ she repeated when she observed I wasn’t listening.
Of course, the devil was back and so was the squelching sound of the straw.
I tried suppressing my fury. I didn’t want to be increasing my blood pressure every now and then and get a damn heart attack. I understood then, the primary reason for heart attacks amongst men. Women!
‘Alright Aisha, look,’ I said. ‘Firstly, I don’t have money to get a house for myself, and secondly, even if I had, WE ARE NOT MOVING OUT FROM HERE!’
Damn, the devil was out.
She fell silent and looked around glumly. ‘So now everything you’ll be deciding right. I DON’T EVEN HAVE ANY SAY IN OUR MATTERS NOW?’ She pouted her lips and glared at me.
Damn! It was back. I could hear the squelching sound of her gnarled lips against the straw that penetrated my arm from the other end. The horns and her jagged teeth stared at me, threatening…warning to pierce my flesh.
‘Aisha!’ I said. ‘Why the hell are we even discussing this? You know that’s not possible. Why don’t you get it, moving out of the house is not the solution. You have to change your attitude. Marriage is not just about two people; it’s also about ACCEPTING ONE’S FAMILY!’ I loved as she recoiled at my last three words.
‘OH REALLY!’ she said, nodding her head indignantly. ‘Talking about accepting one’s family, WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU MET MY PARENTS OR EVEN GAVE THEM A CALL, TELL ME?’
The squelching sound grew louder.
‘Oh God!’ I dragged myself out of bed in a huff. ‘How do your parents EVEN COME TO THE PICTURE HERE? That’s entirely different.’ I cleared my throat and rooted through the drawer for cigarettes. Yes, I started smoking after my marriage. Perhaps she would gift me a heart attack for our first anniversary. ‘WE ARE NOT EVEN STAYING WITH THEM!’
‘OH, SO THAT IS DIFFERENT, HOW SO?’
I stared at her…just stared at her. How the hell did the argument even reach her parents? That was the thing with Aisha. She’d always start an argument and then drift to an irrelevant topic losing track of what the issue really was.
I let out a violent shake of my head and reached for the door. After walking out the room, I banged it loudly against the wall. I opened it again and then banged it one more time, then one more time, and then one last time.
Damn, the devil disappeared.
A beautiful lady appeared at our door the next week. I was surprised by the unexpected visitor. She greeted me with a flushed expression. Her hair was short and neatly combed. The lady wore light blue denims that fell on blue canvas shoes. Her top was – Damn! - a baby pink colour.
‘Oh brother!’ Aisha leaped toward the door to hug her, I mean him. ‘So glad you came.’
‘Of course, sister,’ Priyank said, embracing her and gnashing his teeth at me, behind her back.
I smiled.
‘Shameful fellow,’ he said, stroking Aisha’s hair gently. ‘You make my sister CRY!’
‘Mind your own business, lady,’ I said through a smile.
Aisha released her arms from Priyank’s neck and swiveled around, facing me. ‘Oh, how dare you call my brother a lady?’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Why did you call him here?’
‘He’s my brother, damn it,’ she said. ‘I wanted to meet him, and also’ - she quickly sneaked a glance at Priyank behind her shoulder who nodded faintly - ‘Priyank wants to talk to you.’
‘Ha, ha, really?’ I said. ‘Priyanka bhaiya wants to talk to me.’
Aisha glared at me. ‘How dare you?’ she said, pointing an accusing finger at me.
I shrugged. ‘I’m not interested in her crap,’ I said. ‘Do you get it?’ After a pause, I added, ‘alright then, I’ll leave you two sisters at it.’
I walked past them out the main door with a cursory glance at both of them.
Not without a bang of the door, of course.
‘What is wrong with you?’ Aisha said as I entered my room few hours later. What a match it was of Delhi Daredevils!
‘What?’ I said, fishing an ear bud from the bedside drawer.
‘You insulted my BROTHER!’
I straightened up and pricked my ears.
‘He’d come down all the way from Mumbai,’ she said, ‘to talk some sense into you and you didn’t even listen to him. If you can’t respect my brother, how do you expect me to RESPECT YOUR SISTER?’
‘No,’ I said, taking a step forward, ‘it’s not like that. It’s the other way round. Since you’ - I waggled my finger at her – ‘are not good to my sister, I am not good to YOUR BROTHER!’
I threw the used ear bud on the bed.
‘OH, IS IT?’ she screamed. ‘But what about all the…’
I turned a deaf ear. Honestly I didn’t feel like arguing with her today.
As the yellow light of the lamp glistened past her face I noticed her ugliness shrouded her beauty. Wrinkles had formed at the edge of her eyes, dark circles nestled underneath them, black heads spotted her nose, and a hundred little pimples framed her cheeks. Or maybe I never noticed them before.
I was about to say something, but then later pursed my lips. There wasn’t any point discussing it any further. If you can’t be good to my family, I can’t be good to yours.
I shook my head and gazed at her one last time as if to know what is happening to us? Sensing my silence, she fell silent. I could see a glint of sadness on her face mirrored by my own. A lone tear stood at the edge of her eyes, and I could tell from her pursed lips and clenched fists, she was trying hard not to set them free. I swallowed a huge lump in my throat and scarpered down the room toward the balcony.
Outside the weather was balmy. A light breeze rustled past the leaves of the banyan trees along the road. I lit my cigarette and exhaled a puff. Plumes of white smoke rose up and above. In the distance I saw a cluster of yellow lights from the homes across the road. The lights were a blur a moment later and then a pudgy ball of yellow. I wiped the tears that had mysteriously sprung up in my eyes. I couldn’t be sure about the chilling thought that surfaced in my mind a while ago.
Was I falling out of love with her?
26. The much needed break
May 2011, Delhi
By the third month of our marriage, a huge chasm had formed in our relationship. I was sure whatever was to happen now, absolutely nothing would restore the old times. We might reach to a consensus sometime in the future, but the void would always remain for the rest of our life.
We had completely stopped talking to each other now. I had forgotten the feel of her touch and we slept o
pposite to each other on the bed. She ignored all others in my family who ignored her in turn. I had immersed myself in beer and IPL. Thank God for cricket.
Some days I had long conversations with mom and Priya in their room about Aisha. Obviously it was my mistake of getting married to her, I was told. Statements like ‘I would have definitely got you a better bride’ or questions like ‘Why were you in such a big hurry to get married?’ formed the crux of our conversations. All of them invariably ended with declarations like ‘see this is what happens when you don’t listen to your elders’.
Quite simply, I was blamed for everything.
Honestly, I was fed up of everybody in my life, not just Aisha but my own family as well. I wanted to be out of here and spend solitary time with myself for a few days. Perhaps take a break from the entire human race, especially women.
Maybe this entire marriage thing is a sham. We were so happy before that, where did all the love suddenly disappear? I had seen the same question in Aisha’s eyes too. But then, both of us knew we’d reached too far to come back in this relationship.
Then one day in the second week of May as I entered my room precariously, I saw her big fat suitcase flung open right over our bed. She was…packing. Was she leaving me? Forever?
I cleared my throat. ‘Aisha, are you going somewhere?’ I asked, the thought crossing my mind that we hadn’t spoken in the last couple of weeks.
‘Yeah,’ she said.
‘Em…where?’
‘Mumbai…few days.’
‘Oh…Ok,’ I swallowed. Then almost as an afterthought, I added, ‘you never told me about it.’
‘Yeah,’ she said, ‘I’m sure you’d be interested.’ Her remark was motley of sarcasm and anger.
I scratched my eyebrows. ‘When is the…flight?’
‘Four hours later,’ she said without looking up.
Love Lasts Forever Page 12