21-10-2022, 10:00 AM
"Honey." I said, making sure I picked the right words. "I was puzzled by your insistence today that I not send Fahim to pick up the lunch box."
"Oh, I was just....I was coming there anyway." Ketaki said.
"Come on, Ketaki. We have been married ten years. I know there's some other reason."
Ketaki sighed and looked at me. Her shoulders dropped, and she said,
"Sameer, just ask what you really want to ask."
"Alright....was there any history between you and Fahim?" I asked.
"Well." she said, searching for words, "kind of. I should have told you this the day you returned from Bangalore."
"Tell me what?" I asked, now really curious.
"Fahim and I, we.....well....we sort of dated for a while." she said, her blood rushing to her white cheeks.
"Dated?" I sat up straight. "In what way?"
"Nothing happened. I mean, nothing physical." she said. "Maybe I should start at the beginning."
"Yes, please do." I said.
"Okay, so, we used to keep going to the village in the summer vacations every other year to visit my grandparents. Since I was a little kid. Fahim's father used to own an auto-rickshaw, the only rickshaw in the village. So he was the one who always came to pick us up from the closest railway station, about 30 km away. And he used to take Fahim with him during the vacations when there was no college. So I have known Fahim since we were kids."
"I see."
"And you know how it is in tiny villages. We used to play together as kids. Almost all the kids in the village played together, whether they were related to the college headmaster, like my grandfather, or the rickshaw driver, like Fahim's father. So Fahim and I were like friends. Played together every time I visited, with other kids."
"Okay."
"Things sort of changed after I hit puberty. When the village customs meant that boys and girls at that age could not mingle together. But I was from the city, went to a co-ed college, so these restrictions didn't make sense to me. I used to still hang out with them until I was 16 or so, playing cricket, gilli-danda, and so on. My grandfather didn't mind, nor did my parents. All these were kids they had known for years."
"So when did the "dating" start?" I asked.
"I'm coming to that. Ever since I....well....I developed breasts and got curves on my body, I had been getting attention from boys in college in the city. In the village, it was Fahim alone. Some time in my teens, I forget exactly when, he started talking about us eventually getting married and all. He didn't exactly "flirt", but was very loving in his behavior towards me. I always laughed it off. To me, he was always little Fahim, my playmate."
"Little Fahim?" I butted in. Fahim was hardly "little". The man was like an oak, well over six feet tall, and a well-built body.
"Well, yeah." Ketaki blushed. "Things changed when we were both 18. Over the course of just one year, he went from being a scrawny little kid to a tall, well-built, good looking young man. And suddenly, all his talk about us being meant for each other, started having an effect on me. And that was the summer that we, well, sort of dated."
"I see." I coldly said.
"It was harmless. He would write urdu poetry for me. Sing songs. We would spend time together, taking walks and staring at the river. We would talk about....." she blushed some more, "we would talk about getting married, having two kids, raising one as ***** and the other as '.."
"And?"
"And nothing. It ended as innocently as it started. The vacations ended, and I went back. We promised to write to each other, meet again. But back in the city, I realized the huge gap between him and me. He was an auto-rickshaw driver's son who was going to start driving a rickshaw himself after class 12. I was going to college. Our paths were just different. So a couple of months later, I ended it in a letter. And after that, I always made excuses to not go to the village during vacations. Then my grandparents moved to Delhi to live with my uncle. And there was no need to even make excuses anymore."
"So after that summer, this is the first you have seen him?" I asked.
"Yes. After..gosh...after 16 years!"
"Hmmm. So when you two were dating, did you two....."
"No! God, no! I have already told you about the two guys I slept with before you - both ex boyfriends. With Fahim, it never went beyond...." she paused and said, "holding hands. We were too....innocent."
"Okay."
"So now you see why I feel awkward even facing him? The last time I met him, I made promises of eventually marrying him. Now, 16 years later, he is working for the guy i ended up marrying instead."
"Hmm, yes, I understand."
We just sat there silently for a few seconds.
"Sameer."
"Hmmm?"
"Couldn't you change drivers? Swap Fahim with someone else in the office." Ketaki implored.
"Okay, I'll see what I can do." I said.
And the topic ended there.
"Oh, I was just....I was coming there anyway." Ketaki said.
"Come on, Ketaki. We have been married ten years. I know there's some other reason."
Ketaki sighed and looked at me. Her shoulders dropped, and she said,
"Sameer, just ask what you really want to ask."
"Alright....was there any history between you and Fahim?" I asked.
"Well." she said, searching for words, "kind of. I should have told you this the day you returned from Bangalore."
"Tell me what?" I asked, now really curious.
"Fahim and I, we.....well....we sort of dated for a while." she said, her blood rushing to her white cheeks.
"Dated?" I sat up straight. "In what way?"
"Nothing happened. I mean, nothing physical." she said. "Maybe I should start at the beginning."
"Yes, please do." I said.
"Okay, so, we used to keep going to the village in the summer vacations every other year to visit my grandparents. Since I was a little kid. Fahim's father used to own an auto-rickshaw, the only rickshaw in the village. So he was the one who always came to pick us up from the closest railway station, about 30 km away. And he used to take Fahim with him during the vacations when there was no college. So I have known Fahim since we were kids."
"I see."
"And you know how it is in tiny villages. We used to play together as kids. Almost all the kids in the village played together, whether they were related to the college headmaster, like my grandfather, or the rickshaw driver, like Fahim's father. So Fahim and I were like friends. Played together every time I visited, with other kids."
"Okay."
"Things sort of changed after I hit puberty. When the village customs meant that boys and girls at that age could not mingle together. But I was from the city, went to a co-ed college, so these restrictions didn't make sense to me. I used to still hang out with them until I was 16 or so, playing cricket, gilli-danda, and so on. My grandfather didn't mind, nor did my parents. All these were kids they had known for years."
"So when did the "dating" start?" I asked.
"I'm coming to that. Ever since I....well....I developed breasts and got curves on my body, I had been getting attention from boys in college in the city. In the village, it was Fahim alone. Some time in my teens, I forget exactly when, he started talking about us eventually getting married and all. He didn't exactly "flirt", but was very loving in his behavior towards me. I always laughed it off. To me, he was always little Fahim, my playmate."
"Little Fahim?" I butted in. Fahim was hardly "little". The man was like an oak, well over six feet tall, and a well-built body.
"Well, yeah." Ketaki blushed. "Things changed when we were both 18. Over the course of just one year, he went from being a scrawny little kid to a tall, well-built, good looking young man. And suddenly, all his talk about us being meant for each other, started having an effect on me. And that was the summer that we, well, sort of dated."
"I see." I coldly said.
"It was harmless. He would write urdu poetry for me. Sing songs. We would spend time together, taking walks and staring at the river. We would talk about....." she blushed some more, "we would talk about getting married, having two kids, raising one as ***** and the other as '.."
"And?"
"And nothing. It ended as innocently as it started. The vacations ended, and I went back. We promised to write to each other, meet again. But back in the city, I realized the huge gap between him and me. He was an auto-rickshaw driver's son who was going to start driving a rickshaw himself after class 12. I was going to college. Our paths were just different. So a couple of months later, I ended it in a letter. And after that, I always made excuses to not go to the village during vacations. Then my grandparents moved to Delhi to live with my uncle. And there was no need to even make excuses anymore."
"So after that summer, this is the first you have seen him?" I asked.
"Yes. After..gosh...after 16 years!"
"Hmmm. So when you two were dating, did you two....."
"No! God, no! I have already told you about the two guys I slept with before you - both ex boyfriends. With Fahim, it never went beyond...." she paused and said, "holding hands. We were too....innocent."
"Okay."
"So now you see why I feel awkward even facing him? The last time I met him, I made promises of eventually marrying him. Now, 16 years later, he is working for the guy i ended up marrying instead."
"Hmm, yes, I understand."
We just sat there silently for a few seconds.
"Sameer."
"Hmmm?"
"Couldn't you change drivers? Swap Fahim with someone else in the office." Ketaki implored.
"Okay, I'll see what I can do." I said.
And the topic ended there.
![[+]](https://xossipy.com/themes/sharepoint/collapse_collapsed.png)