‘Sure sir.’
We made our way to the top most part of the ship – the navigation bridge. Fitted with tempered glass windows all around, it offered an unfettered three sixty degree view to the ocean ahead, so absolutely nothing went unnoticed.
The sun was bright and the gray clouds failed to obscure it. The sea was almost calm and the waves caught the sunlight in its arms that shone at us. There were few ships around us, perhaps headed to the Gulf of Aden which would connect to the Red Sea that would further flow into the Mediterranean Sea. However, for now, I was sure all seafarers on these ships would want to pass safely without getting hijacked by the pirates of Somalia.
As for me, I wasn’t really sure.
‘Alright, Ronit,’ Captain said, after taking over the watch and settling on the pilot chair. ‘Where was I?’
‘You were telling me I haven’t been a good husband.’ I frowned.
‘Oh yeah, of course,’ he chuckled, making the skin at the corner of his eyes crinkle. ‘So the first point I would like to make is that marriage is a compromise. No more, no less. You gain some, you lose some. Now look at your wife Aisha - she left her city, left her home and family to live with you. That’s the biggest sacrifice any woman can make. But you didn’t value that sacrifice. Of course, any girl would have a problem adjusting in a new home with a new family. You ought to give her some time. But instead what did you do, you always fought with her.’
He narrowed his eyes at me to the size of a slit. ‘Then when your family messed around with her, you never supported her. I’m not blaming your family if that’s what you’re thinking; they have their own problems, but trust me any woman wouldn’t mind all that provided her husband supports her. Instead, you chose to ignore her and partied with your friends. Now what sort of a wife would accept that?’
I averted his gaze.
‘Ronit, look…’ He paused till his eyes met mine again. ‘Before marriage you were desperate to live with her, but later when you got all that so easily, you took things for granted. You can never take love for granted, always remember that. You say you want a divorce, but when you actually get separated, you’ll realize her true worth in your life. Why are you turning your back on love so soon? Give it a chance. Divorce is not the solution, trust me. We did that and I have regretted that decision every single day of my life. Getting old with the person you love is the most remarkable dream any human can achieve. I ruined mine up, but you still have a chance. This girl loves you, I’m sure you also love her. Look at the last day; she was still trying by giving you a letter. Wake up before it’s too late.’
‘Alright sir, stop!’ I folded my hands, almost begging him. ‘It’s easier said than done. You don’t know my problem. And if you valued love so much, then why did you divorce your wife? You were also fed up of your wife, right? It’s easier to give lessons to others, but harder to implement them. And if you loved her so much, then you could have got back together with her. Why did you not do that, huh?’
Disappointment loomed over Captain’s face. He looked into the distance and appeared lost in his thoughts. Then slowly, looking back at me, he said, ‘I’ll tell you why…’
29. Captain’s story - 6
1980, Nagpur
There is nothing more powerful and splendid than the feeling of being in love; more so when you are loved back by the same person; even more so when you have married that person and plan to spend the rest of your life with her.
Yes, I was the blessed one. Only few people in this world are fortunate enough to experience love in its fullest form as me.
It had been close to a month since we moved in a rented apartment in the southern part of this city after moving out from the orphanage. Though, I must admit, we missed our pals there and the simple life of the orphanage often, however, it never lasted a few moments.
We had consummated our marriage on the very first night itself, exploring our naked bodies for the first time against the silver-blue light of the moon pouring over us. The rest of the night was spent wrapped in each other’s arms.
In time we realized purchase of a double bed had been a wrong idea. More often than not, through the night and into the morning, we found ourselves curled into one another on one side of the bed. The bed sheet on the other half remained neat and crisp, as it had been the night before.
Mornings were the best part of my day with her warm body snuggled against mine and her face tucked under my chin. And then as my eyes would open gradually to the most pleasant sight in the world, I’d be struck with a realization together with a self-realizing smile that I had to be the luckiest man in the world.
After we woke up slowly, sometimes we made love again and other times, stopped our self after foreplay. It felt good to be in control of our desires sometimes.
That’s what Shikha used to say. I hated those mornings.
After our morning rituals as she made breakfast, I pondered over my options, flicking through various newspapers in search of a job. Although I had a job in a transportation company few months back, I had left it in hope of finding a full day job. Besides the money earned there was enough as long as we were in the orphanage with food and shelter looked after, but certainly insufficient to run a family. I had some savings from that job which were to last a few weeks or utmost a month, if we lived frugally. However, we never let that bother us; we had had our share of tough days. Absolutely nothing could dishearten us, more so, as we were together.
After breakfast, we left for companies nearby in hope for a job. Yes, we. I never did anything alone; rather we never did anything alone. We found it very distressing to be away for each other. So she’d accompany me for the interviews, waiting outside, while I accompanied her for various household chores like buying vegetables, milk, et cetera.
Life was going on wonderful that way. After the interview, we’d roam around the city, romanticize on the banks of the various lakes Nagpur had to offer, and reminisce our old times. Sometimes we visited the orphanage, met our friends, our teachers, and had long chats into the evenings. Other days we’d watch new released movies, sometimes explored Nagpur’s restaurants, and had long walks with our fingers interlinked against each other before returning to our home. Shikha would go on bantering about our old times and I would just listen to her and enjoy the lilt of her voice. At times I would hardly listen and inwardly thank God for the wonderful partner I was blessed with.
Then few weeks later, I could sense a shade of panic in our home. We’d been married for more than a month which also meant I was jobless for that long. I didn’t possess any high brow educational qualifications, but then, I never looked for any high brow jobs either. All I wanted was a decent job which would take care of our finances. Alongside, I had enrolled for a correspondence course from the Nagpur University, and I hadn’t forgotten the promise I made to Baba.
Thankfully, two weeks later I got a job in a packaging company. Salary was modest but sufficient. But with the job came a niggling thought we’d never anticipated. We had to be away from each other for more than ten hours in a day. Now that wasn’t easy as since the time we’d known each other, we’d never been away for that long.
The following Monday Shikha was cooking breakfast, and the delicious aroma of aloo paranthas wafted toward our room. I was getting ready for the first day at work, and followed the scent in the kitchen and held Shikha from behind, my arms tight around her belly. Her trembling shoulders and rapid breathing made my throat tighten instinctively, hit by the sudden realization. She was crying. I hauled her over to face me. Her eyes were red and swollen, and it appeared to me she’d been crying for some time.
‘Oh, Shikha,’ I sighed. ‘You’re crying? Why?’
I cupped her face in my hands and tilted it upward toward me.
It took a minute for her to answer. ‘Because you’re leaving for your job,’ she replied. Her voice was a squeal. ‘What will I do alone till the evening,’ she added sadly.
‘Aw Shikha, come on.’ I l
eaned forward and kissed her forehead. ‘Don’t be silly, I’ll be back by evening. Then we’ll go out, have dinner, and take a long walk…’ I wiped her tears slowly. ‘It’ll be fun,’ I added breathily.
‘Yeah.’ A wave of smile swept past her face as she sniffed. ‘I’m so crazy, I love you so much.’ She wrapped her arms so tight behind me, I almost gasped for breath. ‘I’ll wait for you in the evening.’
I kissed the top of her head softly and rested it under my chin. We retracted slowly and gazed at each other for what seemed like an hour.
After the scrumptious breakfast, we hugged one last time before I left for work.
While climbing down the stairs I wiped the little tear that had found its way out from my eyes. I smiled at a thought that occurred to me a while ago.
More than a decade and we were still to have a fight.
30. Captain’s story - 7
1981, Nagpur
A month had passed in my job and today was the moment of utter joy. I was handed over my first cheque for the passing month. I already knew what my first spend would be.
A bouquet of flowers!
There is an unimaginable affinity between women and flowers. I learnt it on the very first day when I gifted Shikha a rose at the age of thirteen, and I realize it every single time thereafter. After I returned from the first day of my work, sensing her gloomy mood back home, I greeted her with a bunch of flowers. The disappointment instantly vanished from her face giving way to a full and unfettered smile and she leaped in joy and hugged me. Nothing in this world would have made her happier.
Since then to bask in that wonderful smile, I found myself regularly reaching home with flowers. Even hours later or on the bed at night, she’d remember about it, giggling to herself, and would thank me for that gesture as if I’d done a huge thing. It’s not too hard to keep a woman happy, I realized. All they want is our love, care, support, and apparently a good ear.
Life is simple indeed, if we don’t complicate it. Often it’s the smallest of things that fill our heart with joy. For her it was the flowers, for me it was her smile.
Today on my way back home I bought a big bouquet of flowers with red and white roses around the border, assorted bunch of fuchsia, red and pink lilies, tulips and violets at the centre with carnations sprinkled liberally over them. In my other hand was a small pack of chocolates.
As I clambered up the stairs for my flat, I heard familiar voices whooping out toward the corridor. I knocked the door to our flat. At the sight of flowers, Shikha’s hand flew to her mouth, and her eyes widened. She embraced me and we kissed softly.
‘Look who’s here!’ she squealed in joy, stepping aside.
I entered and was ecstatic at the sight of Rajiv and Swati – our best friends from the orphanage – staring excitedly at me from across the room. I frisked toward them and we hugged.
‘Wow, guys!’ I shrieked. ‘What a nice surprise, how are you guys?’
We retracted slowly. Rajiv and I held each other’s arms, and then hugged one more time. Rajiv was looking good as ever in his suede jacket and jeans, and I always found Swati a very pleasing personality. She was wearing an auburn coloured suit that highlighted her supple figure.
‘All good, buddy!’ he exclaimed. ‘All good!’
‘Yeah,’ Swati said. She turned toward Shikha and winked. ‘Actually better than good, we came over to share some good news with you both.’
‘Tell me then.’ I waved out my hands at them. ‘I’m all ears.’
We settled in our seats and I saw their eyes lit up. There was a hushed silence in the room and they shared furtive glances, throwing guess what looks at me.
‘What?’ I said impatiently. ‘What are you people hiding?’
‘They’re getting married!’ Shikha announced, hopping on her seat.
‘What?’ I bought my hands together. ‘Wow!’ I cried. ‘When and how did this all happen?’
‘OK, OK,’ Rajiv said. ‘Let me answer your questions, one by one.’
He leaned back; crossed his legs over, and spoke with a twinkle in his eyes.
‘As for your what – yes, you heard it right - Swati and I are getting married. As for your when – well, I guess - the day you guys’ - he threw his finger at me and Shikha – ‘got married and now the more important how of your question.’ He slipped his arm over Swati’s shoulder. ‘The reason is pretty much you guys, my friend.’
‘We?’ I scrunched up my face, glancing blankly at him and Swati, and then turned my gaze toward Shikha. ‘How’s that?’
‘Yeah Shekhar, you guys,’ Swati said as she rose up and walked toward Shikha. She patted her arms and smiled. ‘You guys have inspired us all at the orphanage – to live, to love, and to embrace life. You have set the example for us that all one needs to be happy and content in life is true love and companionship. In fact, it’s not just us who plan to tie the knot; you have showed the way to many others at the orphanage. Thank you from all of us.’
I cocked my head gleefully toward Shikha. She appeared completely enamoured by Swati’s words.
‘Thanks,’ I acknowledged. ‘That was really sweet, good to know that we inspired you, and well, others.’ I turned my gaze at Rajiv. ‘Wow!’ I said, shaking my head, still absorbing the inspiration part. ‘So when is the date?’
‘Pretty soon, brother,’ he replied with a wink. ‘Pretty soon.’
We chatted late into the evening about our childhood days, our time at the orphanage, and how blessed we’d been to be a part of it. Rajiv teased me and Shikha reminding us how he harassed her over her ponytail and the day he broke my teeth. How much we used to hate him then. Funny, how time changes everything.
Before bidding goodbye, we hugged each other profusely, and promised to attend their wedding. When they left, Shikha banged the door shut and leaped over me like a monkey.
‘Wow!’ she screamed; her hands over her cheeks. ‘You got me such lovely flowers!’
31. Captain’s story - 8
1981, Nagpur
Why do people not love freely? And why do they not value the special moments as life passes by?
I pondered over these questions while I watched Shikha gorge on the chocolate ice cream. We sat in her favourite restaurant not too far from our place. We watched a movie before lunch, and now, after she’d be done digging on her ice cream, I had the tickets ready for our second movie of the day. For the rest of the evening, we planned to stroll by the banks of Futula Lake and witness the waning light of the sun on completion of its shift in this part of the world.
And then a little gift would await Shikha’s arrival in the evening at our home.
Today was our first quarterly wedding anniversary.
Both of us found the idea of celebrating wedding anniversaries every year a very boring concept. Special moments like these should be celebrated more often. By definition, of course, it’s the annual observation of a past event, we knew that. However, we never wanted to wait one full year to cherish the most important day of our life. So we’d decided on celebrating it quarterly. I wanted it monthly, though I knew that would be taking things too far.
Coming back to my questions, I guess, I had been fortunate to be blessed with Shikha’s love. Loving her is so easy, so natural; I presume she would have made the perfect life partner to almost anyone in this world. And for the second question, well, each and every moment spent with her is so many lifetimes of happiness put together. Who would not value those moments after all?
I leaned back in my chair and observed her. Her eyes were fixated below, on her ice cream, and absolutely nothing would budge her. I fondly remembered the past three months of our marriage. Each and every day had been memorable, with each passing day better than the previous one.
After she was done with the ice cream, her lips were smeared with its brownish remnants. She whisked her tongue over it playfully and finally tilted her head toward me. Her eyes had the look of a desire half-cherished, so I ordered another one.
‘No,’ she said only half-heartedly, ‘I’m done.’
‘Sure you are,’ I teased. I clicked in the air in the waiter’s direction, ‘One more!’
I checked the time in the watch on my left arm. We still had over an hour for the movie.
And then, I watched her again as her next round of ice cream arrived.
Several hours later, as we walked with our hands together over the last stretch of road that led to our home, my stomach gurgled. A tingling sensation ran through my body in the anticipation if she’d love the little present that awaited her.
I had summoned Rajiv’s help and handed him the duplicate key to our apartment to help me with the little surprise. It was nothing fancy though, just a gentle reminder how much I loved her and what she meant to me. There was nothing better in this world than the feeling of having her surprised.
‘WOW!’ she squealed in delight when the door to our apartment creaked open. ‘This is so beautiful.’ Her hands were over her face.
She was staring at our front wall that was adorned with red roses. They were carved to form the following words: ‘Happy first quarterly anniversary Shikha, Love you forever’. The word ‘love’ was in shape of a heart - actually three concentric hearts – with red roses at the centre followed by white and pink roses outward.
She leaned into me for a tight hug, almost squeezing me. I led her toward our room where few gifts neatly wrapped in decoration paper and ribbons peeked at her. Her eye balls popped out and hands flew back again to her face.
‘Thanks,’ she said and neatly undid the cello tape from the gifts.
‘Wow, this is a beautiful sari…and, oh my God’ - she thrust her hand over her heart – ‘nice sandals.’
‘This is a great perfume,’ she added in gaiety after opening the third one, sprinkling a little over her.
‘Wow! This is so good,’ she said for the fourth.
A little further up, on the chest of the drawers, sat a letter which I wrote in the last few nights. I’d slip out of bed when she’d be deep in her sleep, carefully freeing my arms from her own.
Love Lasts Forever Page 14