The Move

This had been her 3rd long distance relationship that had miraculously survived. After she fell out of love with her first boyfriend after he moved to Australia for a Master's degree, she had been guilt-ridden and very upset about having done that to him. She had sworn then that she would never fall in love again and would agree to an arranged marriage set up by her parents. Her vow was soon broken when she met Nakul, her new next-door neighbor, who was originally from Delhi and had moved to Mumbai for a short project.

Nakul and she shared a relationship for three years. She was blissfully happy for the first 8 months until he had to return to Delhi. She feared that she would fall out of love with him too. Luckily, she did not. She made every effort to visit him every 2 months but almost always felt that their bond was growing weaker. Nakul seemed distant each time and the last time she visited him, she knew why. He had found someone else in Delhi.

"Nothing serious", he said when she had discovered her emails in his inbox. "Will you marry me?", she asked. "I would have to ask my parents.", he replied without a blink. That's when she knew. Nakul did not really love her.

She was heartbroken, depressed, and isolated for almost a month. She was already 27. Most of her friends were married. Some of them even had a child. And here she was, lonely and without any urge to find someone for herself. Her parents showed her pictures of several men, prospective alliances that had come through an ad that her parents had placed in the Sunday newspaper. None of them appealed to her. Her thoughts kept running back to Nakul, her heart wanting him but her mind warning her against a man who had cheated on her.

And then one day, he came into her life like a knight in shining armor. Manish had always been a good friend. The friend who was not "boyfriend" material. He was a short, geeky guy with a funny dressing style and hardly her type. He had often lent her his shoulder to cry on with she sometimes reluctantly accepted. The last that she wanted was Manish as her boyfriend!! And yet, one evening, when she was slightly tipsy from her wine after dinner with him, she did not push him away when he tried to kiss her. His lips felt great on her lips, she loosened up, cherishing every second of their lip-lock, and wrapped her arms around him.

"Will you marry me?", he asked.
She nodded with tears in her eyes.

That night, after she was no longer drunk, she went over and over the entire episode in her head. Was it the alcohol that did the talking? Or did she really want him? When he called her the next morning with a "Good morning sweetheart.", she knew. He was the one. He was her short knight in a gaudy silver shining t-shirt who had always been there for her and accepted her for who she was.

The next month, his company decided to send him to the United States for a project. She was shaken and terrified. Her past told her that her relationship would end soon. Manish told her it was only a fear and that he would never to do anything to hurt her.

"You are the one", he kept saying over and over again in an attempt to reassure her. "I would never do anything to hurt you. You know I have to go. But I will be back soon to make you my bride."

She felt secure only for a short while. When his phone calls and text messages started dwindling, she began to fear that he had found someone else. She started questioning him, checking his inbox to find cues that would alleviate her fears, and began taunting him. He would sometimes clam up and sometimes be patient. And yet, she could only go a certain amount of time before unwarranted doubts would creep up in her head.

Manish did not return to India for two years. He said he was trying to save up money for their future. However, she was yearning to see him, to hold him, to be kissed by him, and to wake up next to him every morning.

"I send you pictures every week.", he argued, when she cried about missing him and wanting to see him.
"That's not the same!", she yelled back. "Do you think its a good idea for me to visit you?"
"How? It won't be easy to get a tourist visa.", he said patiently.
"How about me coming there for my Master's degree?", she asked.
"Think about it hard. Do whatever your heart desires but do it for yourself. Not just for me.", he said in his usual geeky style.

In 6 months, she was ready. She had gained admission in a university which was only 40 miles away from his apartment, or so he said. She had no idea. She knew no one else in the United States. That made it all better, she thought. There would no relatives spying on them and she could enjoy quality time with him. As she sat on the plane, all that she could think about was how her 3rd long distance relationship had miraculously survived. She was finally going to be with him.

After 18 long hours, she was finally in Chicago! Her eyes were dying to see him. She could hardly believe her eyes when he walked up to her and hugged her. He looked different. He looked stylish, confident, and mature. She hugged him hard amidst tears and he gently kissed her salty face.

"How are you?", he asked. "Did you take good care of yourself?"
She nodded her head in joy.

At his apartment, she fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

The next morning, he said,"Let's find you an apartment."
"Wont I live with you?", she asked in dismay.
"No sweety. Your university is too far away. We can meet every weekend but we can't live together."

She felt heart-broken but said nothing. After all, he knew best. She knew nothing about the United States.

"When do we plan on getting married?", she asked later that day.
"Marriage? What do you mean?", he asked.
"Aren't we going to get married?", she asked with fear and shock.

He gently took her hands in his and said,

"Darling. I care for you very, very much. But I am not sure if I love you."

Here she was. Away from what she called home. In a big country that she knew nothing about. For someone who did not love her anymore. Her third long-distance relationship just failed. After she was in close distance with him.

A true story of someone I know.

Silence

Komal had not stopped crying in the past 24 hours, except during the two measly hours that she had managed to fall asleep out of exhaustion. Her stomach hurt with pangs of hunger and she sensed that her face might somewhat look distorted with the muscle strains. And yet she could not help it.

Komal had left Vivek's home yesterday. Vivek, her beloved husband who she had married against her parents wishes. Vivek, her boyfriend in college, who her friends had warned her about. Vivek, his parents' pampered child, who still clung on to his mother's saree, figuratively. Vivek, the childless man.

Komal married at 24, and turned 28 two months ago. Her first year of marriage was uneventful. Her second began with pressure from her in-laws to have a baby. Her third, Vivek and she tried desperately to conceive. They bought fancy machines to track her ovulation, she took herbs to improve her fertility, her in-laws visiting temples, and Vivek suggested certain positions for the bedroom because he wanted only a boy. Her fourth year turned into a roller coaster with her in-laws ill-treating her, calling her names, labeling her as "infertile", Vivek shunning her, and Komal's self-esteem plummeting. The herbs did no good and the Gods apparently were not listening.

Vivek and Komal had screaming matches everyday. Yesterday they had the last one.

Komal: "Why can't we just tell them??"

Vivek: "I have told you a million times that we cannot!"

Komal: "What is the point of hiding the truth. One day they will have to know."

Vivek: "NO Komal!! And if you wish to, you can leave the house right now!"

Komal: "All this is your fault!"

Vivek: "If only you would have been careful, this situation would never have occurred."

Komal: "And so you have no part to play in this?? Are you not responsible?"

Vivek: "No Komal, You are the only one responsible for this. Not me!!"

That day, Komal left Vivek' house. She could not believe that he was in denial. She was dumbstruck with his inability to stand by her and face his parents with the truth.

The truth was that Komal had been pregnant 6 years ago with Vivek's child. Naive at 22, and poor as students, frightened of the consequences, Vivek and Komal went to a quack to have their child aborted.

She killed her child 6 years ago. And Vivek killed her marriage today. Komal had nothing to say.

The text message

As she gazed out of the window looking the red skies that cautioned a brewing storm, she could not help but wonder if that was a sign of doomsday. On an ordinary day, she would have rushed out to feel the wetness of her nylon sari drape her silhoutte under the crying skies. But today, even her lack-lustre eyes refused to shed a drop.

He had walked out in a huff last night, anxious to reach the airport on time to catch his flight to Washington DC. They had had their fifth argument in two days over issues around physical intimacy, and she had once again made a cut on her arm to forget about her emotional pain and focus on her physical pain. She had been wanting to start a family for over four months now and he had been resisting it. Their sex life was dismal, almost nil, and he could not fathom how they would ever get it alive again.

"We do not even know if we still love each other, Sarika!!", he had exclaimed for the umpteenth time in the past few months. This sentence never failed to pierce her heart like a dagger. And yet she lived in hope, a silent plea to God that a child would bring them closer.

Normally, he called after he reached his destination. But today, she had not received a phone call nor a text message from him. She was not worrying, only very sad. She knew he was safe; that he only had not cared to call.

She woke up from her nap with the sound of a text message coming in. It was from her husband. It said, "Hi sweetheart! Missing you. Wish you were here with me. Can't wait to get back into your arms tonight!" She was overjoyed. She read and reread the message. She clung onto the phone like a child holds on to his new gaudy toy. For the first time in several days, she hummed a song, turned on the radio, and danced to the loud melody. She did not hear the sound of a text message coming in again. She went about choosing the sari that she would wear tonight. She picked a bright yellow one with a red border and gold sequins on it.

She kissed her cellphone once again and went about dancing, singing, laughing, grooming, cooking, and living the next few hours in anticipation.

A few dark and silent hours later, she lay lifeless on the couch, clutching her cellphone to her chest. Her screen displayed the second text message from her husband, "Reached destination safely. Will reach home on Thursday." Today was only Monday. She was not her husband's sweetheart. She was now her husband's late wife.