I look at him with all the love that my eyes can possibly hold. He looks back at me in total admiration. I can sense the longing in his eyes. We lose track of time looking at each other…
“Seema, where is my file? And there are no washed socks in the cabinet.”
There comes the much expected call. I smile to myself and go to the bedroom. I open the cupboard and see a disorderly pile of files. Just then, I see something black, fallen on the floor, below the cupboard. I pick it up and hand it over to my husband of ten years. There is no point in admonishing Manish like a teacher would at a careless school kid. It won’t change anything except cause a fight.
I move to the pile of washed clothes waiting to be folded and pick up a pair of socks and put it in front of him. He picks them and leaves without even looking back at me, forget some gratitude. He is right now man in hurry and has no time for me. And after 10 long years of marriage that’s the only side of him that I see most of the time; but I have made peace with this fact after so many years…
The phone rings continuously. I pick up the receiver.
“ I am missing you, honey. Wish you were with me now.”
I blush lightly. Maybe it has tinged my voice too as I say
“Me too. Is it the case of distance making the heart grow fonder?”
“No, it is the case of a myopic man seeing his love clearly with the lens of distance”
I blush again…
My phone beeps. I open my eyes partially. It is 1.00 am in the night. The kids are in sound sleep beside me. I pick up the phone and read the message.
“I just reached. Will call before I leave”
The communication between us has evolved into bare essentials. It was not always like this. When we met each other before marriage we had to allocate a part of our incomes specifically for phone bills. As newly weds we were constantly whispering sweet nothings into each other\’s ears; as the first year of marriage passed the chattering was replaced by more important things like planning house budget, paying bills, household maintainence. With kids coming into the picture, they hogged the limelight in most of our conversations. Slowly, as we have reached a stage where we understand even each other\’s silences, words seem superficial and often unnecessary.
I put the phone down, close my eyes and go back to sleep.
The aroma of freshly brewed filter coffee is wafting through the air.
I enter the kitchen knotting my hair up. His back is facing me and he is working on something. As I walk closer I see him putting chocolate icing on the cake.
“Happy birthday honey… I can’t match your baking skills you see”
“All that matters is that you tried”
I hug him tightly as he kisses my forehead lightly…
Trriinnnggg….
I wake up with a start. It is 6 am. I rub my eyes and think of the long day ahead of me. After sending kids to school I have a meeting scheduled with my editors; followed by a book reading session at the biggest book shop in the city. Then there is a party at Karthick\’s house for which Manish is supposed to pick me from the bookstore. That\’s when I realize that I need to pick up Manish\’s suit from the dry cleaner. I make a mental note to do that after dropping the kids to school. But even on such hectic days my mind often wanders into a parallel world of existence that is anything but mundane…
There are a million stars above us in the sky as we lie down on wet grass, somewhere in the middle of nowhere, far away from the hustle and bustle of the city. There is a cool breeze; and warmth of each other’s company…
“Where do we go from here, my love?” he asks holding my hand.
“Nowhere. Let us just be right here. In this moment. That is enough for me”. I gaze into his deep black eyes and lose myself again…
The room echoes with applause. I have finished reading and I keep the book down. The host opens the discussion for audience questions.
“Seema Ma\’am, you are among our most cherished writers. Your novels are so full of mush and romance. Don’t you think your books are too sweet to be real?”
“Why, are you diabetic?”, the audience roars with laughter….
How do I tell this journalist about my life\’s biggest secret? That all that love and romance in my books is my way of compensating what is now often missing in my life… It\’s my way of giving a voice to those emotions that are buried somewhere deep within me…
It is 7 pm… I look out for Manish’s car to arrive. We are supposed to reach Karthick’s place in another half an hour. A thin crowd is still surrounding me as I sign their copies of my book patiently. After 15 minutes, Manish arrives in his suit.
“So, this is the man who inspires her to write so beautifully. How lucky is she…” a young woman whispers to her friend. I pick up my bag, wave goodbye at the crowd, thank the host and leave as the whispers grow louder…
“Why were people staring at me? I hope nothing is wrong with my suit or my hair…” Manish says adjusting his hair in the car.
“Because they were not looking at you, but at somebody else in their head,” I reply back as he throws me a puzzled glance.
“Have you written something bad about me in one of your books?”
I laugh and shake my head in a firm no as he drives on…
A woman’s heart is so full of love, it takes a million of men to even match up…
The starting lines of my next book write itself. I stare at them and for the first time in my life the lines between fact and fiction have totally blurred out….