Monday, January 26, 2015

The Next Day She woke up with a heavy head, her mind reeling from the evening before. Maybe it was all a dream, she thought. Wishful thinking – her subconscious corrected her. Traces of his perfume still lingered on her body. She had scrubbed hard, even went to the gym after she returned from his place and tried to sweat it all out but it wouldn’t go, much like his thoughts. She rolled over and tried to close her eyes again but the noise of her household waking up on a lazy Sunday burdened her already clouded head. She opened her eyes again and she looked at her daughter – sleeping by her side with the corner of her mouth slightly open. Looking at the little one sleeping oblivious of the storm that brewed in her mamma's head brought a wry smile on her lips.

She was in her early thirties, married happily with a gem of a child, successful in her career and now unsure and rattled by the turn of recent events. She hadn’t known these feelings in the entire last decade or so of her life. She took pride in calling herself headstrong and emotionally immune to all misgivings yet there was something that made the ground she stood on, slightly wobbly and caused her much displeasure. How could this be happening to her? She had left him and moved on years, no, decades ago and yet…

It was a harmless invitation, a social call and she didn’t read much into it. They met as agreed. The venue was always going to be a surprise, but then didn’t she ask him to pick the place on his own and he did. Yeah, he did – his house (rascal) – did he plan this all along? Her mind kept distracting her flow of thoughts. She had no way of telling for sure. Did she want it at some level; she kept asking herself back, again without a definite answer. The life is a bitch...she mused on as she went about her daily chores – setting the breakfast table, readying the child, attending to individual needs of the husband, in-laws and team of maids and servants in the house. Her chain of thoughts was only broken by the ring of her cell phone.

He was calling.

After she hung up, her mind plotted a new frenzy. He sounded, earnest to say the least. Had he been cold, distant, even playful she could have slotted the event as a one-off lapse in sanity; blamed it on wine and the conversation; could have even blamed him for seducing her. She could then have directed her anger at him and felt lighter. It wasn’t the case to be. He spoke and melted her again. She wanted to tell him that it wasn’t her routine, she hadn’t done something like this ever before, she didn’t go about submitting herself to exes, letting them sweep her off her feet and concede. She banged her head on the wall. The sharp sting made her break the train of thought. The momentary relief felt good.

As the day progressed, she felt a little more lost. She wished she had a switch that she could just turn off. Maybe go back one day in her life and tell him that she can’t meet as planned, give a flimsy excuse and avoid him for all times to come. By evening, she’d decided that she would call him back and tell him in a stern tone that whatever happened at his house, must stay there. There would be no encore, she wouldn’t meet him or run into him alone ever again and would try and stay clear of him in all social group meetings too and that she expected the same in return.

She stepped out to the balcony away from the humdrum of her house and with unsure fingers dialed his number. He answered instantly as if expecting her call. The suddenness of it all stumped her and threw her off-balance and she lost her voice for a few seconds. She knew she’d lost the battle and her desire to block him from her life. He’d seized the silence and kept reading her mind. By the time she hung up, she knew her hope to restore normalcy in her life now stood finished. He had read her intentions like an open book, listed them out and made her lose her ground again. She was mesmerized at the predictability of the situation and the way he simplified it. She had agreed to meet an ex over lunch and ended up kissing him, passionately enough to land up losing all her control and just ending short of going all the way.  The fact she wanted it as much unnerved her no end.

She called up again. This time she didn’t hold back, she didn’t wait. She held her ground and told him that it’s not worth it, that there was too much at stake, that there was no destination for such a liaison except doom. She lashed out at him for ‘tricking’ her into her house and that the whole thing was planned. She accused him of probably lacing her drinks with something fishy and then taking undue advantage of her on one of her weak moments. He listened in silence and allowed her to finish.

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked once she was done.

“Yes”, she replied.

“Did you like it?”

“What kind of a question is that? You are not even listening to all that I just said. You…” she fumed.

“Just a ‘Yes’ or a ‘No’ please. Let me repeat, did you like it?” he persisted, calmly.

She paused for what seemed like an eternity. The years flashed before her eyes – all the nights she had stayed awake thinking about what it could have been. Her emotions overwhelmed her. She felt vulnerable and heady at the same time. He had broken her heart once. She had spent endless hours lamenting why she fell in love with him in the first place. She had felt bitter the first time it happened. All the years came rushing out to her. He had apologized profusely for that when they met. Though she would never admit it, his voice still melts a part of her. She knew that she wasn’t any dumb bimbo who couldn’t rise for herself but perhaps over the years her defense had crumbled. Ice had set in her bones and made her complacent. Maybe she needed this stir. She didn’t know if at the end of the day, in a few years from now, will all this matter? Would she be brave enough to…

“I am waiting...” his voice shook her again. “Did you like it?”

“Yes” she replied meekly. She couldn’t believe what she just admitted to. Clearly this wasn’t going the way she was intending this conversation to go.

“When do we meet next?” He asked in the same controlled tone.

‘Whaaa…” she couldn’t believe it. What does he mean next? There was no way she would succumb to this. She knew better than this. Didn’t she? Sigh... it was true after all. There was no destination to this journey. But perhaps, it was all there was to life as well – just the journey. Hell, she didn’t know what was happening to her.

“So when do we meet next?” He asked again.

“Next Saturday”. She replied with a sigh…and smiled, her eyes lighting up a bit and the glow returning back to her face.


2 comments :

How do we know said...

as usual, u surprise with ur writing.. amazing!

Himanshu Tandon said...

It always feels special to hear from you. Thank you for your kind words HDWK

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