It was five-thirty in the evening, and dusk was descending. Brushing her fingers through her hair, Aziza chanced to look upon her reflection in the old mirror hanging on the peeling wall. Her eyes were swollen, she had slept for too long. There was still some light outside, and to keep the mosquitoes out, she went to shut the windows. That was when she saw them.
On the barren lawn, a man in his early thirties was playing with a toddler. He was well built and tall, but with a childlike countenance that contradicted his looks. He would throw the ball to the little boy who caught it and served back. And each time the man missed, he cackled out in innocent laughter. Looking at the toddler Aziza thought, “Ayaan does look a lot like him”. She gazed at them, in the shade of a pane, hungrily absorbing all that was happening between the child and his father. Unconsciously, her mind began flitting through memories, some black, some white, some grey and some even rainbowy! The game proceeded, with intentional misses on one side, complemented by a haughty applause on the other.
She kept watching their nuances, with unwavering interest.
She didn’t know why she somehow felt safe observing them from a distance. Close was not a place she wanted to go, it was out of her comfort zone. As the game came to a conclusion, Ayaan shouted out in mirth, ‘Yay! I won, I won…’, and his father lifted him up in his arms and planted a kiss on his forehead. Just then, Aziza’s eyes met his. Both of them paused for a fleeting moment…and then, in a flurry of movements, she banged the window close and returned to her solitude.
The room was dark now, except for the diminishing rays infiltrating into it. She sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the shadows around her, trying to extract some meaning out of them. Then, she remembered the dirty dishes in the sink. With nothing better to do, she decided to devote herself to work, in order to keep away the thoughts that were gnawing at her memory. She began humming an old tune, to ensure that she could not hear them. Her hands toiled, but her conscience was someplace else.
There was a rap on the door…
‘Its me’, Arunoday said. Aziza opened the door and let him in.
‘What happened to the lights?’
‘Powercut. It won’t be back for at least an hour. Where’s Ayaan?’
‘He went to play with the boy who lives next door. What’s his name…Bunty?’
Without a reply, she returned to the sooty kitchen of the one-bedroom rented shack she called home. He closed the door behind him and followed her in. There was no intimacy traceable in the conversation they shared. An imaginary firewall existed between them, spurred on by the wounds that had accumulated with time.
He leaned against the frame of the kitchen door and watched her silently.
‘Do you need any help?’
She did not answer. The bangles in her hands tinkled against each other as she scrubbed the utensils clean. She could feel his eyes scan her, and this made her feel uneasy. So, she pretended to be indifferent to it. By then, Arunoday was used to the cold shoulder she was giving him.
After what seemed to be an eternity of noisy silence, Aziza tried to break the ice.
‘When are you going back?’
“What? Oh...Um, as soon as I get you two to come with me.’
This got under her skin. Leaving the dishes undone, she clenched her fists to control her temper, bit her lips and turned towards him.
‘Arun, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something, for a while.’
He saw determination in her eyes, which were otherwise quite gullible. He straightened himself and looked right into them, making her flinch. She lowered her gaze and turned to the side, then taking in a breath, spoke to the wall.
‘I think we should get a divorce.’
It knocked the air right out of him, leaving him tongue tied. She had expected him to say something, but not getting any response, she faced him with hesitant eyes and said, ‘Well…’ She was interrupted.
‘Is this some kind of joke?’
‘What? No…’
‘Does this seem funny to you Aziza? ‘Coz this sure as hell doesn’t seem funny to me!’
She was getting irritated, ‘Do I look like I am laughing?’
They were answering each other with questions. ‘Why don’t you ever take me seriously, Arun?’
He broke out into an untimed laughter, which transformed into a painful grin. ‘Tell me you’re kidding.’
She didn’t. Instead, she just glanced at him with a vacant expression on her face.
‘Oh God. No! Come on…Don’t do this to me, Please.’
‘For God’s sake, Arun. I don’t want this any longer. This…this lying to ourselves that everything is all right, when we know it sure as hell isn’t! I don’t want to live in an illusion anymore.’
‘What illusion? Look, I know you can’t stand me right now. But, at least give me the chance to make it up to you. To my son. I’m asking for one opportunity. Is it too much? I curse myself every second for being such an arsehole that I could leave you. You know that, Aziza, you know that!’
She had listened to him patiently till now. She just let out a sigh, and dodged him out of her way into the bedroom. He turned around.
‘What? Say something, Aziza!’
‘You really want to listen? Okay…I’m sick, Arun! Sick and tired of your excuses and apologies. I’m done with them.’
She shoved him away, but he grasped her hand in a tight fist.
‘LEAVE MY HAND’, she spelled it out slowly. Instead, he just gripped it tighter.
She was way beyond manners now! She jerked her hand, but all that did was to cause her an extra iota of pain.
‘Stop it, you’re hurting me’, she spat out her words at him.
He released her hand, and put a finger on her lips, ‘Shh…Calm down please. I’m sorry.’
She could feel his eyes get teary, as well as hers, and this disgusted her like hell.
‘Listen to me, Aziza. I love you.’
‘But I don’t.’
He paused for a few seconds and then said, ‘I’m begging you. Don’t do this to me. I can’t live without you anymore.’
All he got was a spiteful smirk.
Aziza thought that he sounded like a cliché hero in a Bollywood movie. Although somewhere, deep down, she wanted to believe him, her mental faculties got the better of her heart.
‘Who are you kidding, Arun?’, she shook her head in disapproval, ‘Where were you when I needed you? Rotting here all alone, with a child to take care of and no one to earn. Do you have any idea of what a single mother has to go through? It is a living hell. Three years, Arun. Three years I waited for you to return. But, you didn’t. You didn’t even bother to see whether I was dead or alive? If you think you can turn up one fine day, say sorry, and expect everything to turn back to normal, then you are wrong. You have proved that you can stay without me. And guess what? So can I. I’ve made a life for myself here, with Ayaan. I don’t need you like I needed you before.’ She was panting furiously.
Arun was helpless now. He tried to use force where persuasion didn’t work.
He cornered her and said, ‘ There’s no way I’m going to let this happen. I’m not losing you again.’
‘Just get los…’ she was stopped midsentence by his lips suddenly breaking down on hers. He grabbed her waist and pulled her towards him. She was taken aback, and immediately tried to break out of his embrace. His was a familiar but forgotten touch, and her heart trembled when she felt it. She tried to speak, but his lips cut her off. Although she was short of breath, she tried to fight him off. But in vain. He was much stronger. He pinned her shoulders to the wall with his weight, with one arm around her neck, his fingers woven into her hair. She tried to push him away with her hands, but she felt like she was caught in a cage. She could feel him in her mouth...his smell, his taste, his movements. It made her feel weird…angry, ecstatic, sad and afraid all rolled into one. She started crying like a child.
Arunoday gently released her, and wondered what it was. Till now, he was overcome with surging passion, but her tears brought him to his senses. He looked caringly at her face, which had turned a shade of red. She had her eyes facing the floor and big drops streamed down her face. Her lips were pursed and she was shaking all over. Tears welled up in his eyes too, and he put a hand on her cheek to make her feel better. She leaned forward and clutched his shirt in her fists. He touched her lips with his him, making them shiver a little. They looked into each other’s eyes. This time, he gave her a gentle kiss and retreated.
But, she kissed him back. Like young teenagers, they stood there kissing, her hands enveloped around his neck and his hands dug into her saree at the back. They were rediscovering each other after a long time; and it felt like rain on parched earth after an eternal drought.
He picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. There the laid, their fingers entwined in each other’s, kissing out all their heartburn. When they were finally tired of it, she buried her face in the hollow of his chest, and breathed him in. He caressed her messed up hair. Then she turned over and closed her eyes, while he hugged her tight and hid his face in the back of her neck. They didn’t know how long they had stayed like that, sharing an intimacy they owed each other since a long time.
Their trance broke with a knock on the door…
‘Ma…’
‘Coming’. Aziza got up from the bed hastily, fixed the drape of her crumpled saree, tied her hair in a loose bun and opened the door. Arun was also on his feet when Ayaan came into the room.
‘What took you so long?’
‘Bunty has got this new red toy helicopter…and you know it flies too? I only have one toy car…Please Ma, buy me one of them. Bunty only lets me see his toys, he never lets me play with them. Please…’, Ayaan pleaded with his mother.
She chided him, ‘You shouldn’t always be jealous of your friend’s toys. I will get you one when its time. For now, the car is enough for you…you’ve wasted a lot of time today, its time for your homework.’
The little boy started feigning how immensely hurt he was with his mother’s reply and started sulking.
Feeling bad for him, Arun said, ‘Oh, Aziza! You always scold the poor boy. Come here, Papa will get you something even better than a flying helicopter. Do you know what it is?’
‘What?’…Ayaan bulged his eyes out in suspense.
‘It is a flying aeroplane, kiddo! We will go to a shop I know first thing tomorrow, and get you an aeroplane. And then you can show it to Bunty. But let him play with it too. You’re a good boy, aren’t you? Now, lets study….all right?’
The toddler nodded his head in silent obedience.
A few minutes later, Arunoday was reciting nursery rhymes with his son. Both of them were so much at ease with each other, that no one would believe that the boy had met his father for the first time just a week earlier.
As Aziza watched them with each other, and the ice in her heart slowly melted away…
‘Arun’, she said.
‘Hm?’
‘I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something for a while now.’
He looked up.
‘When are WE going back?’
Pleasantly surprised, Arunoday smiled back at her…
THE END.
-Aamen.
