Love Lasts Forever (19 page)

             
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 gre
w 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 on
e 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 sai
d, embracing her and gnashing his teeth at me, behind her back.

I smil
ed.

‘Shameful fellow,’ he sai
d, 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 gliste
ned 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 h
er 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?

2
6. The much needed break

May 2011, Delhi

By the third month of our marriage, a huge chasm had formed in o
ur 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 opposite 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.

             
She was leaving
today
, and
now
?

An hour later she wheeled her suitcase across the floor producing a screeching sound against it. I sat there reading a book…pretending to read a book. Perhaps I waited for her to wish me goodbye, a perfunctory peck on the cheek…something.

             
She didn’t even look at me as she made her way out the room. I shrugged.
To hell with her!

             
I sauntered toward the balcony and looked below. A metallic blue
Meru Cab
waited beside our house. A minute later she transferred her luggage in the back and settled in the back seat. The driver turned the ignition of the car and off they went leaving behind a gray plume of dust in the air.

I wouldn’t lie by saying I missed her, because honestly, I didn’t. In fact I was relieved in her absence. My room was vacant when I entered; no frown, no anger, and no cold vibes greeted me. There were no arguments, no yelling, and most importantly no one sucked my blood.

In the following week
all seemed well in the world, though, she never called me. I spent long hours outside the house with friends and cousins. Nights were spent on TV and basking in the freedom of bachelorhood.

Then exactly a week after
she left, my phone rang late night. That had to be her; no one calls me that late.

             
It was Joe Singh.

             
‘Hey, buddy,’ I answered. ‘So late, I thought you were on your ship.’

             
‘Just returned few days back,’ he said. ‘Congrats for your marriage; sorry brother, couldn’t make it.’

             
‘Oh,’ I shrugged. ‘Never mind, so where are you these days?’

             
‘In Mumbai, still,’ he replied, ‘but now in Delhi, cousins’ marriage.’

             
Poor guy, I thought, the cousin I mean. ‘So let’s catch up buddy,’ I said. ‘It’s been a long time we haven’t met.’

             
‘Sure, tomorrow,
Chili’s
, Vasant Kunj.’

             
‘Done.’

‘YOU GAVE HER GOLD BISCUITS!’ Joe Singh laughed hysterically with pounding motions of the chest that shook his broad shoulders. He produced a spluttering sound and little tears appeared in his eyes. His bright red turban almost blinded me. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me, man. But why biscuits, couldn’t you think of a better gift?’

             
We sat at
Chili’s
, an American restaurant on the third floor of the Ambience mall in Vasant Kunj. Offering cheap liquor and scrumptious continental, Mediterranean and Italian dishes, it was the perfect place for a reunion. We were meeting after six months or so. I very well remembered our last meeting. Priyank…toothpaste…squeals…and loads of laughter.

             
At mid day, there weren’t many people around, so the waiters could concentrate on us. I had told him everything, right from the day everyone agreed for our marriage to the current state of affairs. Joe Singh had left few days before our marriage for his assignment somewhere in Chinese waters so he wasn’t aware of the development. I told him about all the excitement and action preceding our marriage and then the trauma following it. Our platonic honeymoon trip made him laugh and that’s when I told him about the gold biscuits.

             
‘Yeah, dude…biscuits,’ I replied.

             
He waved out his hands with a confused look on his face. ‘Why?’

             
‘Alright,’ I said. ‘It’s a good investment, why does nobody get it? Anyway, so that was the tipping point, our love began nose diving ever since…’ I trailed off, leaning back in my chair.