Non-erotic Bonds of Love by sfraza

[pastispresent]

Chapter 10

When Neeta returned, life like a hurricane sucked her inside its cortex, so while the rest of the world hurled around with lightening speed, her insides went silent for once after what seemed a million years. Anjali academics were a mess, someone had to look at that. Rohit fell sick and had high temperature. Neeta lied by his side on most nights; letting his warmth burning through her body until he went to sleep.

The husband and wife barely talk to each other, both trying to pick up the pieces they have left six months ago. Neeta with the kids and Aditya busied himself with his office consumed in their responsibilities.

Anjali had also crossed puberty and mother and daughter sought each other’s company for a while and went shopping, buddying up with each other in the shared excitement of approaching womanhood. Neeta realized that soon Anjali would move on to other interests with her own friends as she entered her teens but for now she was her mother and best friend.

After shopping they were having coffee in a mall, chatting of fashion, books and clothes. Anjali had evinced sudden interest for all short clothes in her wardrobe and Neeta wondered bemused what will be the family reaction to this. There will be fireworks for sure. She was an indulgent mother, maybe too lenient sometimes, but how could she without being a hypocrite, ask her daughter to adhere to boundaries. She was glad to know her daughter and her friends were still into makeup, clothes, and books. Good. If she heard a mention of any sport from her lazy daughter’s mouth, she would know there was a boy on the horizon.

“How did you and papa meet”, Anjali asked, interested now in all things romantic.

“You know we had an arranged marriage. I was working in Bangalore when my parents asked me to meet this guy. We met just once, and he went back to his home and told them that he liked me, and that was it”

“Did you like him” Anjali was inquisitive.

“I hardly remember,” Neeta shrugged. Anjali’s face fell.

Neeta thought best to continue. She dug in her brain for long lost memories.

“He kept talking about himself, you know how Papa can be. And I listened enchanted to his voice. He had a good voice and he was so eager so enthusiastic for the future ahead. I was enthralled with his vision. And he took me to an ice cream store.”

Anjali giggled. Everyone in the family knew their father’s penchant for ice creams. Neeta had liked him, but she did not say it out aloud. It hurt now to say that.

“You do not even talk to each other now”, Anjali pouted.

Neeta was stunned. Of course, they talked.

What was for breakfast?

Did you pay the bills?

How to deal with mounting homework?

Long discussions on the spinal surgery due for her father in law.

“You hardly give us time to do it”, Neeta dismissed her; hoping to kill the decision.

“You can both go on a vacation, a weekend outing. Neha’s parents always go, and she gripes about it. But I am sure I will be ok”, her generous daughter exclaimed.

Neeta and Aditya had been careful with their issues hiding it under a cover, but it was not possible in a family to mask things up. Anjali had sensed it and so have other elders.

Neeta sighed, what can she say to the kids.

“Ok, but you make the plans”, she figured her daughter was too self-centered to work out anything herself.

Besides Neeta was no longer interested to go out with her husband. Neeta had always been a little suppressed like all women in Indian households. Marriage according to her was her ticket to freedom in a house where her mother reigned supreme and controlled everything from her studies to her clothes to her friends. She met Aditya, liked him immensely, laughed at his jokes and was soon enamored enough to consent to marry him. She was in love. She was in love for many years. She believed in keeping husbands happy, keeping her parents happy. She had been raised up to think that family was important and took first priority over everything else, so she let go of her career to focus on her kids. Things started changing slowly. For instance, she realized that her husband did not really understand that happiness doubled with sharing. If she was happy he was happy, if she was not he tried to put it down as her problem. Like all little boys in India, he was the center of attention of his mother. His mother had treated him princely and he expected the same treatment from all women he met. He was expected to be the breadwinner of the house from his father, be the decision maker. And he grew up to believe that only his decisions mattered. A woman’s freedom in a patriarchal society is only as expansive as allowed by the men of the family. Neeta was too naïve in the early years to realize this; her mother had told her that marriage should not be based on love but practicality. She had wanted love and freedom. Love was a concept her husband mocked and the freedom she had seemed daily like an illusion. By the time she understood that by loving she was being submissive; Aditya had things going his way too long for him to change.

It did not help Aditya was too strong mentally for her. Where she was sensitive and emotional. Aditya was focused and logical. He did not force anything on her, he did not have to. He could win any discussion, any argument with her in a few minutes. And soon enough he was holding the strings of their lives. She tried the womanly ways of making her husband bow to her wishes, the usual feminine ways only a woman knows to get her husband to do things; sulkiness, sullenness and silence. It worked sometimes but she hated herself for it. She soon lost respect for herself and was plagued by the nagging obsession that her husband did not either.

One day when the horrifying realization came over her that by marrying she had only replaced her husband with her mother, Neeta broke into pieces inside. A wrath built up inside her on what she had allowed herself to become. Of course, at that time she did not blame herself; she blamed her husband. Neeta rebelled, as only a meek person can. She started hating him with full fervor and intensity. Everything he did was a way to either manipulate her or dominate her. Aditya had of course no clue about the internal life of Neeta. He attributed her issues to stress at work and at home; external factors like his parents living with them; financial constraints. He thought of all the reasons that may have caused his wife to be miserable except one simple explanation, there was some problem them as a couple. He was mentally programmed not to find any fault in himself. The more he did not understand, the more she hated him.

Hate is a powerful feeling almost the same as love. It can wash over you; force you to obsess about someone for hours; forget what you loved. It is harder too to get rid of hate. You must be righteous enough to forgive. Or you need to love. It is so difficult to love someone you have once hated but a heart filled with love may change hate into indifference. Neeta had not started loving her husband. She had found love again though and was now detached from her own husband.

Most women find solace in kids or friends or work. But Neeta had found Milind. After separating from him, she tried not to think of him. She tried for weeks. And then she saw him online on Facebook. It was so easy to be in touch with someone these days. There was Facebook, WhatsApp, Skype, even on LinkedIn you can send a message to long lost colleagues. She left a ‘Hi’, praying to the Gods he will not reply. He did. Immediately. They took tentative steps in polite discussion like friends. Soon they were chatting with each other for hours. Milind was done with Denver after she left and was planning to move to Europe, to the Alps as the skiing trails were fantastic there. He told her about difference in skiing in Rockies vs Alps and it seemed to her more interesting than the usual stock market, middle east politics discussion which her husband and his friends had. He planned to shift his career again, now something in marketing and advertising in France. When chatting with him, she lived a life vicariously that was not her own. As if was she was immersed in a fantasy world of hobbits and elves.

As the world of Milind filled up inside her, she became more and more distanced with her own. She hardly thought of her husband now, she had her job, her children and Milind she was busy.

Aditya was unsettled by her apathy. He hung more around the children and his parents now. He was more to be seen in the house than outside it. There was less discussion about his career and his friends. Neeta did not even notice, or if she did, she ignored it. She had her job, lives of their children and Milind; she was busy.

Aditya slowly started cracking up under the weight of her apathy. This was worse than when she was in the USA. She was here but not here. All his efforts were wasting up. He was going crazy. She was not shouting at him or being mad at him like before. She just behaved like he did not exist. She had come back another woman from the USA, a woman so different from one he had married 15 years back, he could barely recognize her, had the face not been the same. She did not bother to listen if he talked of his parents, or about the maid, about anything in the world. She would not make herself available for his friend’s parties. She would not raise an eyebrow when he came back late from office and helped himself into the kitchen.

Aditya started to hang more around the children and his parents now. He was more to be seen in the house than outside it. He decided to give in to his midlife crisis. He stopped pushing himself completely at work or at home. He grew a beard, did not shave, did not work, idled around the house, went to office around noon, bought vegetables, chatted with the apartment housewives, interfered with children lives and the maid. Still his wife did not care or notice.

The Goa trip was the breaking point. It was six months, whole six months after Neeta had come back. Neeta had chatted with Milind almost every other day, but not seen him. And he was coming to Goa. His folks wanted to go to Varanasi, he had decided to accompany them to India. He had few gypsy-like friends currently vacationing in Goa and he planned to be with them for a few days. He had asked her to come mockingly; teasingly. It was just a night journey Bangalore to Goa by bus, much less by flight. He will stay there a week. He had pleaded her to come.

She wondered ideally if he had seen someone else during their separation. Neeta realized that Milind could anytime be seeking out a girl and seduce her without any obligations to her or anyone whatsoever. The thought made her intensely jealous. She wanted to see him. She just could not think of a proper excuse to leave home and go to Goa. She could always say that this was an official trip; a college reunion. But the mad risk of the idea made her pause. It was so reckless. Strangely till now Neeta did not consider her affair to be cheating; maybe because when she had married she had not taken any vow, she had simply taken the strings of her life and placed it in a stranger’s hand. But to go to Goa Neeta would need to lie and such deception repelled her. This was not a fling she had when abroad in a far-off country. This affair was turning into a full-fledged relationship coming closer home. Neeta simply wanted to walk up to her husband, tell him she was spending three nights with her paramour, take care of the children, buy groceries, have a nice weekend and goodbye.

She did not dare to go, and she so wanted to go. Her libido had taken over the place where her rationality lied, and she was mad with lust. She could already feel the salty waves of Arabian sea washing over her body as she went for a swim. The sour bitter taste of briny air on her tongue as she stood in the open shaft, Milind holding her from behind. The wind ruffling her hair as they lied on the beach. Neeta made the decision. She will go. She will lie and deceive, and she will go. Her conscience pricked her finally rearing its long-delayed head. But she suppressed that voice, she had gotten so used to doing what she wanted for the past one year, that it was no longer possible to hold back. The metamorphosis was complete. She was no longer a submissive wife.

Aditya himself had some unexpected new. He had toiled hard, flattered and sucked up to his superiors, manipulated, lobbied, played dirty politics, done everything in his power in the past two years to be promoted to a vice president position unsuccessfully. But finally, when he had given up, did not even shown up at his office for days, he was handed over the promotion.

The management had become anxious about his sudden disinterest. They did not know his personal crisis. They were worried he had given up on them and was looking for a job outside. They decided it was not worth losing him and handed him the incentive to work harder. Aditya reflected that there was such a thing as destiny and it played out, no matter who the players were. He pulled himself out of his trance, shaved his beard, wore his brightest shirt and decided to throw a party to announce to the world that he was back. He would invite his friends and colleagues, and their families; throw a grand party in the best restaurants and be happy. He could not care less about his wife attitude now, he decided to take it in his stride if there was nothing he could do about it. Surely there were other avenues in life to find happiness. God had just thrown him one in his lap. He was tired of all the inactivity anyway. He was a man of action, one who took pleasure in working and not wallowing away in misery. Having made the decision, he sent a prompt mail to his colleagues and friends about the party. It would drive Neeta mad to know that he had not consulted her first. The thought made him quite pleased with himself.

When Neeta came in the evening, he bundled them all up and took them to his favorite ice cream parlor, much against Neeta protests that they had not even dinner

Anjali, Rohit and Neeta ordered a cup of vanilla’s. When the waiter came to Aditya he threw away the menu and said,

“A triple sundae with cut fruits, Choco-chip toppings, hot chocolate dipping sauce and a wafer on the side.”

The kids, Aditya challenged them to beat his order. Rohit went for a banana split so huge, the waiter was not sure it would fit the container. Anjali changed to a double sundae herself with an ominous name “Death By Chocolate”. Neeta stuck to her vanilla and watched in spoilt sports sulkiness as the rest of the family gorged on their sundaes, giggling and snatching at each other bowls.

Rohit and Anjali soon had ice creams on their t-shirts and Neeta scolded them that they behaved like toddlers. Aditya told her to relax and she felt angry that he should undermine her authority in front of them. The old fury reared up its head again inside her. She got up and told them that she will be outside while they can complete their deserts. The rest of the family hurriedly finished their ice creams up, but there was a long line at the cashier and Aditya had to stand in a queue to pay the bill. He did not try to jump the queue or put in any extra effort to pay up. So, it seemed to Neeta that they had completely ignored her and took forever to come out.

There was a sullen silence in the car as they rode back home.

As the kids jumped out of the car in the basement car parking, Aditya turned to Neeta

“Why do you have to be like this”

Neeta was offended, “Like what?” she threw the question back at him but did not wait for an answer as she proceeded to the lift.

Aditya bristled. As soon as the kids reached home and changed into their night clothes and were playing in the living room, he addressed his parents and told them about the promotion; they barely understood its significance but were generous with their love and blessings. The kids paid even less attention to the announcement. Neeta was in the living room too, but he did not look at her. Late night when everyone had retired to their respective rooms and Neeta came out of the attached bathroom in her pajamas did she face him again directly. Bangalore was overcast these days; any cyclonic activity in either Bay of Bengal or Arabian Sea led to rain in this once beautiful city of flora and fauna and innumerable lakes. It rained any time of the year and at any hour. It was almost like London. The drizzle lasting a few days. It was raining heavily outside, the thick monotone of huge water droplets falling through the silence of the night, like an ominous background music.

Aditya looked at her, her suppleness of figure still maintained at her age. Her black jet hair hanging down her back, only a few grays to be seen. Her angular face, symmetrical in its lines but tough in its demeanor. Small wrinkles near her eyes, big eyes. He did not hate her not yet, no not even now. But he was close to it. He took a deep breath trying to push the negativity out of his mind.

It did not seem like she was going to ask him about his promotion, so he told her about the party. How many people he had already invited, the venue that he had decided, and the date.

The date of the party clashed with Goa trip.

She said she could not make it on those dates. She had to go somewhere.

Where.

That did not matter.

Why could not those dates be changed?

It was an official trip.

What kind of an office trip went to Goa.

So, was she lying?

He had already sent the mail about the party dates and venue. Yes dammit, he thinks she is lying.

Why on earth would she lie?

So that she does not have to go to the party. She just does not care for him.

Yes, she doesn’t, that’s beside the point.

No, it is not beside the point. If she did care, she will come.

That is the most irrational logic she had ever heard from him.

Well, then the roles are reversed. So much the better.

And so, on and so forth.

The argument went on in hush tones late into the night.

The next morning Neeta again tried to reason.

Change the dates, she will attend the goddamn party.

She used the actual words “Goddamn Party”. Aditya simply grunted.

The weather was the same the next evening too, chaotic and dark. Aditya waited to confront his wife once the whole family had slept.

“I called up Kabir”, he told her, “there is no official trip to Goa.”

“So now you are spying on me”, Neeta was suddenly the dear in headlights.

“I wanted to find out so that I can tell you to your face; the whole excuse smelt like a sham from the word go; now are you coming to the party or not”, Aditya was belligerent.

“Fuck your party, fuck your friends. I don’t want to have anything to do with it” Neeta spat out.

“What do you want” Aditya a surge of heat scalding his insides as it engulfed his entire being. Blind rage, not the kind that ended in tears; but wrath fit for a warrior in a battlefield. He wanted to kill; he wanted blood.

“What do you mean” Neeta was frightened. She found she was not able to speak above a whisper now and not because the children were sleeping in the other room.

“What do you want, Neeta tell me, What in God’s name do you want. And I will give it to you. I cannot live like this anymore. What is that you want” Aditya raised his hands up and took it down again in a sudden abrupt gesture. Had he just wanted to strangulate her.

The wind was howling now, the falling sound of rain harsher on the terrace outside. Neeta looked at him, she looked inside of herself and she answered. “I want to go to Goa. I am having an affair with a man I met in the USA, he is in Goa and I want to see him there”.

And then she walked out of the room. She wanted to die.

Sometimes when you are least expecting something, and it gets thrown into your face, reality does not sink in immediately. Aditya was faced with something like that. His fury had blown over and he stood stunned. Has he listened correctly? He knew she had told the truth. He did not want to kill her now. Things stood in such stark clarity in such absolute certainty that there was nothing to confront.

The party was canceled, and no one went to Goa.

Diwali arrived a little late that year. Festivities permeated the atmosphere. Delicate 'diyas', little Indian light lamps made of clay or mud, glowed precariously in the windy nights. Lights twinkled. Homes were dusted, cobwebs removed, walls repainted, old carpets carried out, a yearly cleansing ritual in ***** households had begun. Life started anew, Goddess Laxmi was prayed to.

It was during this auspicious evening when the unsuspecting children ran outside in their finest silk dresses to burst crackers with their dada, when the ignorant Amma had gone to stand in the apartment corridors to distribute sweets and chat with her neighbors, that the estranged couple sat down in their room to discuss the terms of separation.

Neeta had been too scared to talk to Aditya after the confession. They both had lived in the same house as zombies, mechanically performing the duties expected of them. Too stunned by the revelation, too perplexed by the situation to do anything about it. What did you do when the almost middle-aged lady of the house has an extra-marital affair? Yes, divorces happened in Indian Society, but they were usually based on clear right and wrong values. Abusive, violent men or family members, false dowry cases, business disputes, mentally ill spouses. Men’s affairs were generally ignored or put a stop to by elders of the family.

Aditya was living in an emotional vacuum, he did not know how to seek out help. They both had mutually agreed to keep the rest of the world out of their issues very early on in lives and they have mechanically followed the same diktat now. Besides after years of fighting, they had finally agreed on one thing. They wanted to separate.

Aditya tried to keep his voice, he had taken to think of himself as the bark of the tree, the one that must remain standing. He laid out options before his wife just like he always had. Neeta was expected to choose just like when she did when they bought a new house or threw a dinner party

He did not mind her staying in the house with him, but she cannot continue to have any contact with that man, or any man if she did. He added caustically. Neeta winced.

They could divorce. Mutually compatible divorce and live apart.

She could leave, or he could. Basically, they can just deceive the parents and kids about their situation until the kids were old enough to accept the consequence of their parent’s divorce.

He had just one non-negotiable, the children stayed in the same city, studied at the same college. He could not bear to see their lives being disrupted. He prayed to God that his wife was not crazy enough to dispute this too. But he did not trust her now in anything. This woman in front of him was a stranger.

Neeta was not so cold however. She wanted to ask for forgiveness for all the hurt she had caused him. This man who was just stepping into adulthood when she married him, a man now trying to be a pillar of strength, a voice of rationality even now.

Did he have a bruised ego? What was he thinking? Was he physically in pain?

She had a nagging suspicion that he will never forgive or forget. He was done with her. Her mere presence in the house was painful to him. She would not punish him further by staying. It was her fault and she had to accept the consequences of it.

No, please let me stay, don’t ask me to leave my children, she wanted to plead.

“I will leave. You can decide either divorce or separation. You can tell the family what you want”. She spoke out aloud.

Aditya sighed in relief. He did not really want her to stay. He could understand that it would be traumatic for the children and mother to stay apart. He could not have in all humanity asked her to leave. So he had laid out all options before her, letting her choose.

The easiest way would be to separate now, let the circumstances slowly seep into the consciousness of their loved ones, before a final blow was made. He did not do it to keep the door open for her to come back now. There was no going back.

The fake story of Neeta leaving again for her work was fleshed out in detail for the sake of the children and parents. But no one took it at face value. The kids did not understand this time.

Why did she need to go again? What financial issues they could possibly be facing when all of their needs were being met?

Endless questions. They offered to help, cut costs, not insist to buy new clothes, new toys. Anjali and Rohit were merely children, and they were being asked to adjust as grownups. They rebelled. They could not understand why their mother who was barely home for six months, needed to go again. This time with no end date in sight, no holidays planned.

Laxmi was not at all deceived. She could immediately make out that this leaving had more to do with the tension between her son and his wife than any financial constraints. For the longest time she would not hear of it; she initially forbade her daughter in law from going; then when she realized she had less power than she had earlier assumed over her son, she cajoled and pleaded.

She gave examples of a dozen cases where marriage hit rocky shores and emerged stronger. She tried to be in the good books of Neeta, exhort the secret out. When she found it was to no avail and then like old women she went into a sullen silence where she pretended they did this to hurt her.

Neeta thought that Aditya would change his mind when faced with such huge resistance to their plans. That eventually he will ask her to stay. She passed him subtle hints to that effect that she wanted to stay; then the not so subtle ones. She prayed every day he will return from office, turn to her, and tell her to remain in house, that they will go past this too.

But it never happened. Something had snapped inside him. All the past two years of generosity and kindness had disappeared. He did not understand and did not try to. He was indifferent to all the misery in the house.

And his attitude to her was not just indifference, he wanted her to leave as quickly as possible, the mere sight of her wife’s face struck a raw nerve inside him.

So, she made the arrangements to leave and packed her bags again.

The day of her departure had come. There was no one who was going to drop her to the airport now. Neeta called a cab herself. The family, except Aditya including her usually lost father in law came down the apartment to see her off, waiting as the driver loaded the luggage into the car. Neeta made some excuse of having left something behind and came up. Aditya was in his room.

He had tears in his eyes. She went and hugged him. She begged him again“Let me stay, not for my sake but for the children’s.”

He stayed quiet. Neeta decided she would take that as a yes. But he told her as she stood there not moving, “You will miss your flight”.