Non-erotic Bonds of Love by sfraza

[pastispresent]

Chapter 1

Neeta rigorously rubbed the dark stains and spots on the floor. Her calloused palms scraped against the sticky grime of the granite stone. She cleaned in the old-fashioned way using a rough tattered cloth until her elbows hurt and her mind shut out all sights except the polish of the granite slab below her.

Neeta took on the daily tasks of dusting and mopping more frequently now, purposefully excusing her housemaid. She found that physical strain strangely soothed her soul. Later in the day, she would drain her fatigue under the cold droplets of the shower, her muscles tingling with the sharp sensation. The whole ritual had a cathartic effect on her, not to mention that it helped her escape the demons in her mind.

Today was Sunday and already the kids had started fighting. She could hear them arguing just outside her bathroom door. She could hear them squabbling over sharing their room

“Mom, tell Rohit to go out of my room”

“I am not going anywhere”

There was sound of a slap and an Owwww

“Mom, she hit me”

“Neeta, they are fighting, come out” an elderly voice called out to her.

Neeta sighed, it was her mother in law, she wished that the older woman would just exercise her right as a grandmother and scold the kids into submission. But Laxmi, Aditya’s mom had strong ideas on parenting and responsibility. She would rather be righteous, non-interfering elder of the family than be useful. The shower was as good as over. Neeta threw over her kurta and wrapped the towel underneath and hesitated just a second before opening the door.

In front of her stood two of the world’s most beautiful children and if hearts could melt, hers would have done long ago.

Anjali and Rohit started clambering for her attention at the same time. Over their babble Neeta was dimly aware that she needed to shut her bedroom door and get dressed properly. But Rohith was holding on to her for dear life and Anjali was pushing him. Rohith was retaliating equally kicking her with his leg. Neeta hung on to her towel at the same screaming Stop it, stop it while dragging them both out of the room. It cut quite a comical picture of the three of them but Neeta caught a disdainful look on her mother in laws face in the kitchen and an irrational anger built up inside her. She pulled on the last of her strengths, literally threw them both out with a force which made them fell on the floor and slammed the bedroom door shut. There was sound of wailing outside her door, maybe Anjali was hurt or thought that she was hurt.

Neeta did not open the door but folded her arms and hugged herself tight letting the tide of fury wash out of her. She was sick of her mother in law disapproving manner and her children’s endless demands, brazen selfishness and bad manners bordering on rowdiness. She wished for one small moment, one tiniest of a moment when she did not have to be a mother. And most of all she hated her husband.

Bile rose up her chest as she thought of her husband. Her breaths came in heavy and irregular, and rage trembled her fingertips. She angrily shook her wet hair around to rid herself of the evil thoughts that enveloped her. Neeta had been having anxiety attacks now, but she had hidden it from her family and the first time it occurred made her extremely fearful of her own mental state. So, she tried to be her own therapist and control negativity around her. She no longer snapped at her in-laws every now or then or passed poison-laced icy barbs at her husband, instead she immersed herself in work and unnecessary activities. But her desperation stayed so did the obsessive cleaning and the anger. She wondered how much longer she could hold her precariously fragile peace together.

Outside the clamor had increased. Neeta pulled on some clothes and rushed out. Her two children started speaking at once.

“Mom you hurt me”, Anjali had tears in her eyes.

“Mom, Di is always throwing me out the room. Where will I go”, Rohit had an unenviable tendency to be on point just like his father.

The apartment was not so small when they had bought it almost ten years back. But now with two children and parents, they were all cramped up and always in each other’s way. Rohit shared his room with his elder sister. They both were always fighting for space. Anjali wanted to spend time with her girlfriends this noon and there was no place for her younger brother and his video games.

"He never goes anywhere never", Anjali bawled out. Her large brown eyes were melting and threatening to overflow with tears. Not a behavior suitable for a twelve-year-old, Neeta observed with displeasure.

Rohit responded rationally with a straight face, "I do go to school."

The imp. Neeta laughed to herself. Such humor never worked with girls but when will the guys ever learn. Besides Rohith was only nine.

Anjali kicked at him again and he punched her back. Neeta physically pulled them back she had enough of these brawls.

"You stay in my room and play your games. I am going out. When your father comes, you can trouble him."

"Anjali you can use the room". Neeta realized as she made her decision that her elder daughter mostly got her way these days.

It was useless to expect any gratitude from her, Anjali made a face at her younger brother on a point scored, stomped out and shut the door of her room with a loud bang.

Rohit thankfully had little sensitivity in him. "When will you be gone," he asked her a bit hopefully.

"Immediately," Neeta replied.

Laxmi was incredulous. Lunch wasn't cooked, the house was still a mess, soon the friends that Anjali had brought would start clamoring for snacks yet her daughter in law had decided to go out.

She was working in the kitchen in her trademark cotton crisp Sadee. Her hair coifed up in a bun, not a strand out of place. The aroma of spices and oil permeated the kitchen, whatever was cooking smelled delicious. She was a far better cook than Neeta and much more efficient in keeping the house tidier and in order. Neeta was painfully aware of her ineptitude at housekeeping, so she never quit her job even when her children were small. Being a working lady ensured she was forgiven many of her failings.

“Ok. I will inform Aditya,” Laxmi told her. She did think why Neeta could not call her husband herself, but she only let eyes show her disapproval, not preferring to intrude. She was aware that her daughter in law was not happy and was secretly concerned that it maybe because of them living with their son. The world Laxmi was bought up in did not have any other explanation for her bahu grief despite of their son assurances that it was not so.

Laxmi, however, unnecessarily worried, Neeta had never resented her in-laws staying with them. It was simply so convenient to have someone at the house to monitor the children and help with household chores that the side effects of this arrangement hardly ever matter. Besides, It provided her little bit of the independence she so craved for.

Neeta ignored the look on her mother in law’s face, fetched her purse and car keys and headed out and wondered where she could go. As years had progressed, the number of friends Neeta had reduced. She did have some contemporaries in which she could confide in. But none of them were similarly afflicted by the crisis Neeta faced. Few could understand the turmoil she was going through; fewer could take the time out to help her. Besides Neeta was in no mood to talk. She veered her car out of her apartment complex, still undecided where to go.

It was a hot suffocating afternoon. The roads were choc a bloc with traffic. Sweat formed on Neeta's brow and lips, her linen shirt itching her back where it pressed against her seat. The air conditioning of her car had still not kicked in, and the oppressive heat made her feel giddy. The air was heavily overladen with dust and pollutants. Bangalore was too chaotic and congested to drive around. Swelling crowds thronged the mall on account of being a weekend; people would wander aimlessly, not bothering to shop, trying to pretend they were having a good time when all they did was stroll around. It would be too odd for a single person to sit and whittle away her time in a restaurant or cafe. The famous parks and gardens in the city would be packed with boisterous picnics and happy families. No one moved around alone in this god forsaken country, least of all a woman. There was no place to go.

[pastispresent]

Chapter 2

The office of SoftIndia Pvt Ltd. was buzzing with activity. One could hear muted t-con discussions and clicking of keyboards from all corners. The day had started late it being a Monday, but once everyone was in and had switched on their laptops and desktops, business was in full swing. The US guys had left a string of caustic e-mails when it closed on last Friday, and their Indian counterparts were aware that they had around 12 hours of head start for firefighting. Some customers had reported some showstopper issues, and the powers-to-be announced the end of the world.

The IT sector in Bangalore was usually intolerant of Indian 'chalta hai' mindset. The industry was closely aligned with global businesses hence, efficiency and perfection were prized. But despite the tough competitive environment, it was hard to find hardworking diligent Indian workers. Millenniums of living in habitable environments had led Indians to a sedentary lifestyle they found hard to shed. Religion, Philosophy, Caste, Politics they could be passionate about but not about work. Employees strolled in pantry and corridors sipping on cups of chai and chatting up then sit on their computers working.

Managers were aware of the challenge and created a semi-panic like situation to mobilize the workforce into action. Today was one such a situation and as Neeta strolled in she realized it was going to be a tough day; she tried to settle unobtrusively into her seat but was intercepted by the team-lead Kabir

"What’s going on," he hovered over the wall of her cubicle a cup of coffee in his hand.

"You tell me," Neeta smiled at him. Office gossip tickled in faster than emails when Kabir was around.

“This product is going live, and we will soon be going to US” Kabir spoke with a mischievous grin, although a married man, he still acted like half a boy enjoying himself in the fair of life.

“Oh is it, who all are going” she feigned interest, preferring not to question why on earth the product with so many bugs was going live indeed?

“Deepak told me that he will ask you to go, you have the best technical expertise here.”

“Oh, well I never do, he knows that he just has to find someone else.” Neeta arched her eyebrow. When Anjali and Rohit were young, they had compelling need of their mother, so every moment spent away from them made her feel guilty and she had made a strict policy of no foreign trips no matter how her bosses pleaded her. Now like all young one's they had grown up on their unsuspecting mother and would soon become independent of her, but Neeta still clung to her rules, it made her feel appreciated as a mother.

“Once in a while letting your husband have some freedom is not bad, Merci!” Kabir taunted her.

Neeta laughed. Kabir views on marriage were much like the WhatsApp jokes on married couples. Abusive nagging wives’ meek indifferent husbands. Kabir joked all day about how his wife had him on a tight leash. Neeta had a vicarious pleasure in abusing all husbands to him.

“Why should I, I took an oath perpetually to stick to him like a leech, a blood-sucking parasite,” she mocked wondering if it was true.

“These days women do not even try to defend themselves” Kabir made a fake sighing face.

“No, why should they; Now if you will excuse me” She diverted her attention back to the screen dismissing him summarily. He took the hint; the professional world was predictable. Neeta felt best here, the emotional vacuum suiting her temperament. She never felt she had to behave any differently.

But she had no peace; her junior colleagues queued up behind her desk begging her to help them. Managers dropped by for estimates. Nasty emails exchanged between the quality and the development team.

Before Neeta could blink an eye, it was already lunch. She made a quick call home to check on her children. Her mother in law picked up the phone and gave her usual response; a daily routine they both had fallen into for years. Her children mostly ignored her calls these days, Neeta missed their toddler years when she was the mother and not the irksome parent.

Neeta ate alone; she got up to go to the canteen taking her home-cooked lunch with her. But Deepak her manager intercepted her and said he would come along. The tall, lanky, dark guy could have been handsome if there was not such a morose expression on his face all the time. He seemed miserable all the time. He was the first one to come to the office and last to leave and in the interim, he stuck to his seat and laptop preferring to work all day. He made an excellent manager, though; a little reserved in nature but like very few people on earth he had empathy for others. Employees connected with him instantly and consequently were loyal to his goals and ambitions.

Deepak and Neeta both had an almost parallel position in the office; still she reported to him because he was the manager and she a mere consultant. Besides their colleagues found it difficult to deal with Neeta, who had an independent judgment and a fiery tongue. Deepak was easier on the face, gentler with his words. Together they made up a strong team, and both were grateful to each other for their respective successes. However, in their professional world, there was hardly any space for such emotions and their discussion settled safely almost always on official topics. They both took the elevator and went in a comfortable silence to the canteen. When you have worked with someone for ten years, there is hardly need for small talk.

The canteen was a dreary looking place on the terrace covered by the tin shed. Rows of tables and chairs dotted the landscape, with an LCD at one end for some distraction and the other end offering cold south Indian thalis for those unfortunate enough to not bring food from home.

Deepak and Neeta did not belong to that category. They headed towards the side table where an old microwave was kept and juggled with the canteen cutlery to warm their food. The aroma of South Indian masala from Deepak's home cooked food permeated the air. Sambar, coconut rice, garlic chutney, and paysam. Neeta's food, in contrast, was more hastily thrown in together, remnants of yesterday leftovers. Lemon rice and pickle. Neeta was not a South Indian, but her mother in law loved to try her hand at local cuisines.

So hectic today eh, Neeta ventured, she wondered idly about who did Deepak had in mind to make the onsite trip.

“Just like any other day,” he ventured a small smile, unlike his peers Deepak hardly ever panicked and was rarely excited. “I was at a meeting with Raj Shekhar for 2 hours, he kept shouting at me, I kept nodding.”

Neeta giggled visualizing the scene, t cons were time-consuming by nature and rarely ever so productive.

"The product is bound to fail; I don’t know why they want to put it live so soon. There is just not enough testing done." Deepak continued in a matter of fact manner. He was not going to let the follies of his senior unnecessarily heckle his temperament.

“Oh, but they are going to indict somehow this on you if so happens.” Neeta had pretty good insight into office politics by now.

“Yeah, I am pretty much aware of that, but there is plenty of time to worry about that. I am not as simpleton as they think", Deepak smiled wickedly at her. But before the topic could flow further into the never-ending seas of politics, he diverted the attention back to her.

"What about you, how are it going?” Deepak had not come with Neeta for lunch to give her company or to be friendly; he was efficient. He had something on his mind and was aware that the cramped formal conference room was not the place for it.

“It is routine as usual; after a week or two they keep coming back to blame the architecture, and I keep trying to deflect the blame. One of these days, I intend to write a strong e-mail to the product manager to keep good developers then blame the design. But as per our managers, you do not tell your US colleagues what to do; they tell you.”, Neeta retorted

“Do not say anything rash or in a temper. Nothing much is going to come out of it.” Deepak suggested mildly.

“Do not worry. I am sure you will provide a secure net for all my transgressions.” Neeta chuckled, reminiscing how many times Deepak had to back her up on the storms she raised.

“I will not be there in Denver; you can tell whatever you want to their faces” Deepak smiled a wry smile.

Neeta arched an eyebrow and formulated a wordless "No". She did not expect this coming, Neeta had made her position so clear on this topic so many times before that she was surprised at this proposal.

“The world has done very well without me ever going to a foreign locale and will continue to do so” Neeta shrugged and stuffed a morsel of food into her mouth trying to hide her irritation under a guise of indifference. There was a momentary silence between them as they both mixed their food together, chutney with rice, roti with subzi.

It was suffocating hot earlier in the morning, but the fickle Bangalorean weather had taken a turn, and a brisk wind had begun to blow. Dark clouds appeared on the horizon. There was a mistiness enveloping the cafeteria, onset of coming rains, and the ambiance had decidedly turned quiet and serene. A muted hush prevailed in canteen instead of the cacophony usually associated with lunch. Everyone just seems to enjoy the weather quietly. The mood had subtly changed, and business was forgotten.

Deepak and Neeta discussed their kids, schools and exams for a while.

And then Deepak spoke again in the same tone he had used when he asked her about her children.

"This foreign trip might do you good, you know. Everyone needs to change the surroundings now and then; it can be rather stressful taking care of family and work, at a point of time one needs to be alone for a while.” And then he continued eating not expecting her to reply.

Neeta mulled over at this remark. Was this a subtle hint of her desperation these days a passing reference to her quiet misery visible somehow in the dark circles under her eyes. Deepak may have noticed, but he was a guy who did not appear to know that the world existed beyond his computer screen. And he would be the last person to mention it even if he did; even when he had worked with someone for ten years five days a week 9 hours a day. Maybe it was just an offhand comment. Maybe it was not. This subject was not going to be discussed between them further; she knew it.

They ate in silence.

[pastispresent]

Chapter 3

Aditya put his weights down on the gym floor and examined his girth in front of the wall to wall unforgiving mirrors ahead. Ever since he had turned forty Aditya had taken to exercise. He believed in good health and the idea of any disease evoked disgust one could have if one had met a leprosy patient. He critically analyzed the various fat rings developed over the years on his body. He was satisfied with the results of his workout regime. He saw a body still firm and a faint sigh of ripple on his muscles. A grin passed over his reflection as he put on his shirt and picked up the bags. On his way out of the gym he waved a hello to his neighbor sweating out on cardio besides him. Not a single friend of Aditya could have guessed that he was undergoing a personal crisis, the reason being he himself was unaware of it. So, his wife had been acting up lately and what he had initially dismissed as a bad mood had stretched over two years. But still Aditya could not accept the ‘situation’ and when he was reminded of it he vaguely dismissed it as one would wave away an irritant mosquito buzzing in the ear. Aditya was a practical man, his dealings with other men or women were based more on logic than emotions. It was not that he had no empathy in him, he acknowledged misery only for viable causes, someone’s death, financial constraints, even unfulfilled desires. He could not attribute any good reason for his wife’s unhappiness and by such logical evaluations and deductions he had arrived at the conclusion she was not in any genuine distress of any kind. He did not accuse his wife of willful duplicity, her affliction simply baffled him. It hung over him like an unending mist through which he couldn’t see, and it was not in his nature to use his imagination to visualize what lied beneath the surface. He did not dig deep, he took things at face value. His wife for instance had a pretty face, a flourishing career, enough money to spend, two beautiful children and an affectionate good husband, he had no compunctions regarding that), so what on earth did she complain about?

But whined and cribbed Neeta had and how and Aditya was at the last tether end of his iron clad patience with her when the tide had turned around, she had suddenly taken a turn for the better without any explanations whatsoever which countenanced his belief that there was nothing wrong in the first place. Once Neeta’s affliction seems to have been improved, he had relaxed. The conclusion he came to be that his wife was undergoing some psychological condition peculiar to women of her age, and life would soon return to normal. The good days numbering more than the bad.

And today was a good day. Anjali had done extremely well in class. The teachers were all appreciation such as one would reserve for a dedicated student and Aditya was already dreaming of a brilliant career for her. There is something about first born and fathers, no one else could make them feel as proud as them. She was an accomplished perfect little lady and he believed that surely the credit for this in some way must go to him. Anjali was a beautiful girl, she had inherited Neeta’s looks. While Neeta had perfect features but an unyielding grim expression, Anjali’s was softer most probably taken to his chubbier cheeks and crinkling smiling eyes. Just looking at her made Aditya feel good about the family he had.

His wife was cooking in the kitchen. Her slim figure silhouetted against the silver kitchen chimney. Years have only added a quiet dignity to her posture and she more gorgeous as a mature woman than a young and shy gawky girl. He wondered what was on her mind as she clumsily kneaded the flour into a dough ball. He thought of a joke about cooking when they were newly married, and Neeta experiments were disastrous, but thought the better of it. Maybe someday later, Neeta had pretty must lost her sense of humor and there was such a tragic hint around her that a joke always seemed superfluous.

Besides he had other concerns too which he thought of more significance than his wife unexplained misery. His father was close to seventy now and his health had deteriorated. His mother considerably younger as per the norms of their generation was a sprightly old lady, who took care of all her husband’s needs from laying out his clothes to serving the food for him She also insisted on cooking everything herself having no faith in the cooks available in the market. The demands of their household continually increased. Even on school days he realized with a wave of filial concern that his mother was overworked. They must have some sort of house help to support her all day. the subject himself to her making as elaborate a case for her mother as well as he could.

Contrary to his expectations, Neeta did not argue as she was wont to do to all his suggestions.

“These days you can put an advertisement in apartment.com for servants,” Neeta dismissed him. She had other thoughts swirling in her head and could not care less.

“Someone with a reference will be better, you can ask the neighbors,” Aditya suggested, to find a maid was a woman’s job and he wouldn’t even know what he was looking for.

“What’s wrong with Papa,” Neeta asked she was not aware that he had been ill. She hardly ever got to see him; he was always cocooned in his room.

To Aditya this query seemed beside the point. They needed help because his parents were old and were not their part-time assistants. But he responded, “A nerve is putting pressure on his spinal cord, his legs and hands shake, he is not able to walk properly or do any of his daily chores himself, he needs help so does Amma, she cannot manage the house, the kids and her husband, we have to support her.”

“Right,” Neeta was quiet, preoccupied with herself, she had stopped listening after a while.

Aditya felt a little dissatisfied with her attitude. But he had said everything he wanted to and met with agreement. There was nothing more to say. Theirs were a 14-year-old marriage, roles were established by now and this responsibility was clearly hers. So, he turned around and went to sleep.

After three days, he asked her about it if she had started any inquiries to find a housemaid. She gave him a vexed look. She heard the underlying accusation that she spent idling her days around while his mother did ‘her’ job. This woman was no longer going to run around every time he wanted something.

“I told you to put an advertisement,” Neeta snapped back. She was sitting in the middle of bed folding the daily bundle of laundry. He stood facing her, she wished that he would move away feeling the onset of a confrontation and his posture intimidating. Most of their discussions took place in the privacy of their bedroom. The rest of the family remained largely oblivious to the financial or personal troubles that plagued them. But this intimacy seemed spiteful now even mean… She would for a change there was someone else with whom she could discuss all her life issues with and not just one man to whom she must always go to.

“That is too impersonal. You know what kind of thieves/criminal lower-class people are out there. Some sort of reference will be good. We have two old people and two children at home. We cannot take a risk for a fulltime servant.” Aditya tried to keep the irritation out of his voice he was trying very hard to sound reasonable. He was painfully aware of her indifference. Something he did not want to pinpoint to her.

“I see Amma toiling all day long all and at her age it is just not good.” He shrugged off trying to evoke sympathy in her little did he realize Neeta was feeling too victimized to empathize with others.

“Yes, sure she works, and she toils while I just sit and do nothing, is that what you want to say” Neeta no longer cared what the discussion was, she just wanted to have a last word. She was trying to tell him something, something for years and he did not listen, he never listened and the more she tried to tell him the more frustrated she became. Whatever else he said did not matter anymore for he would not understand the one thing she wanted to make him. Neeta thought of all this and tears started to well up in her eyes, besides she did not understand why he was so pushy. She agreed to everything he said these days. She bent her head and nervously folded her clothes with utmost concentration not meeting his eyes.

Aditya groaned. Not only his wife had completely misunderstood him. He noted with despair that she was lost again in her own demons. He did not want another emotional outburst.

“Don’t worry, I will handle it,” He addressed her kindly, maybe it was best to drop it.

Neeta bristled over his condescending attitude. “What do you mean, you will handle it as if you handle everything else in this house,” Neeta lifted her head up in anger, facing him, not caring to hide her tears anymore from him.

“What do you want me to do” Aditya could not hide his irritation anymore. He had tried to be kind, he had ignored her indifference and her barbs to his mother. How much more in a corner she wanted to push him.

“Me, you are telling me that I want you to do something! You are the one who wants a full-time maid, not me” Neeta could not believe it, somehow this has again become her issue and not his.

“Well someone has to think about this family right!” The words were out like an arrow zipping out of the bow. Aditya immediately regretted it, Neeta looked up at him with absolute hate and spite and marched out of the room leaving the partially folded clothes still in a mess.

The foremost thought in Aditya’s mind as he stood miserably in the middle of the bedroom was that he will not be able to hire a servant for a long period of time even if they knock on their door and volunteered to work for free. Somewhere inside him there was this sinking realization that his relations with his wife had not improved as he thought instead, they been cloaked to hide the uglier stuff. But he did not want to think about it, someone had to maintain sanity around here.

They avoided each other the rest of the day, focusing on little tasks around the house. It was easy not to talk to each other these days. But Neeta could not help thinking of how the discussion could have gone and what she could have said and not what she did. In love, he was always in her heart, in hate he was always in her mind. She would obsess daily about him, how to reach out to him, how to clarify things up but the more she worried, the more distanced they become and uncommunicative. She wondered if Aditya thought that she ran him through her mind like a repeating tape all day long, he would not accuse her of being so careless in attitude towards him and his family.

Neeta realized she would go mad if she continued to live with him. She hardly focused on anything else, the children, the home, the job. Nothing mattered to her. She made her decision, something that had been niggling in her mind a lot these days.

Aditya was rather surprised as they lay in bed both in their thoughts when Neeta mentioned “I think you should get a full-time servant, you will need it.” He had expected that his wife after the day’s tiff will never give in.

Aditya was jubilant, his old wife was back, the one who agreed to things, the one who was practical and approachable. He hugged her sideways and kissed her on the cheek. “Do not worry about how to get one, there are agents now which can do this. Nikhil from my office told me all about it. I will call him and check it out. Besides between our kids and Mom I think any maid who is willing to stay for the whole day in this mad house will be good enough”, he chuckled

Neeta felt a pang of guilt; she was married to a good and kind man. Not many women can boast of that. She did not have much to complain about.

“They better behave now that I need to go to the USA for six months” she replied dryly. There was no good way to say this. The two of them barely managed to keep it together. Groceries were not bought on time, homework not checked, medicines forgotten, deadlines for bills missed. How was Aditya expected to manage everything alone?

Aditya looked in surprise, “You are going to the US”.

“Yes, Deepak approached me a couple of days back. I asked them to check the possibilities. And they want the final confirmation now. It is about the new product launch and looks like they simply cannot do without me”, Neeta tried to shift the blame on demands of the job

“Six months is a long time,” he looked up at the ceiling with vacant eyes.

“Yes, the money will be good,” Neeta added a little emptily. They did not need money. They needed to be happy. They needed to connect. “Can I go” she hated herself for asking. She had planned this decision as an injunction, not an option. If he said no, they will have a long winding argument full of logic and rationality, an argument Neeta could not win. She couldn’t even justify her decision to herself properly.

But Aditya did not answer immediately. He looked up at the revolving fan for some time, and then he replied enthusiastically. A feigned enthusiasm.

“You should go; you will have fun and if it is important for your career.”

“How will you manage everything here.” Neeta herself asked the question; she had expected to be Aditya’s main argument

“It does not matter. Life goes on, and it is not that a long time. I think you should go” he repeated, he hugged her from her side took her in his arms and whispered. “You loved it when you went to the US before Anjali was born. You were delighted with the whole trip and could not talk about anything else for months. I think this is the break you need to have. Six months is a long time, but we will manage. It is nothing in a lifetime. And hey we can get all our passports and visa and come for a US vacation for about 2 -3 weeks. Think how the children are going to love it. It will be a lifelong memory for them.”

Aditya kept whispering in her ears, and Neeta kept sinking beneath the pile of blankets, quilts, his arms, and guilt. She knew he wanted his wife back the one who laughed and smiled and bantered with him all day long, but he did not realize that love had made her so and that love was no longer there.

[pastispresent]

Chapter 4

Neeta was full of anxiety. She checked her bags and suitcases again. Everything was in order. All the documents were in there. She sat alone in her room listening to the boisterous sounds; her children were making outside. Anjali and Rohit were playing a game of Tag. Aditya was chatting with his parents. The world had not come crashing for her children as she had believed when they heard about her plans. They were excited about the upcoming grand USA vacation, and it seemed to them their mother was only going to a foreign country in preparation for that trip.

The whole world appeared to be conspiring to send her off. What she once thought was unfathomable had now become a reality. This feeling of indispensability was strange to her. Neeta was under the impression her house could not function without her a single day, but now it seemed like it never needed her. Was she supposed to grudge this independence or just enjoy it?

Her mother in law came in and sat on the bed.

“Now don’t you worry about anything, everything will be just fine,” she said sweetly. She was always gracious to Neeta; some motherly instinct told her that her son was in love with this woman. And she being a loving mother wanted this woman to be happy so that her son could be too.

“Yes, mummy,” Neeta was too emotional to let her ego stop her. ” I am worried about Anjali, she is at such a tender age and Rohit always gets injured you know” It seemed to her she was almost pleading with this lady to take proper care of her children while she was away.

Laxmi felt relieved. There was still a mother in her, no matter how cold, distant and selfish she seemed at times. “Don’t you worry, it will be ok. Anju is such a good girl and Rohit is also growing up.”

Neeta was not convinced. She felt that her Hansel and Gretel were going to be as lost in the black forest as they could be.

“You just try to come back early” Laxmi reasoned to her. What was done was done. According to her, it was stupid of her son to let his wife go and live alone for six months. But who was she to suggest this? It was enough that her son and his wife were kind to her. She was not the one to impose.

Neeta was almost crying when she hugged her kids and her hubby at the entrance of the airport. Only Anjali seemed a little affected, Rohit was just taking in the sights and sounds. Aditya was frustratingly calm and collected as always. The neon lights of the terminal along with the hustle bustle of the airport stood in stark contrast to the emptiness of the night beyond them in this urban landscape. It seemed to enforce that life was dull and dark and empty except what the people made of it. Sometimes they made it so busy that there was hardly any time for anything. Some made it depressing and sad, some joyous and calm. Why had Neeta made it so difficult that she had to banish herself away from her family to find herself, Aditya thought. It was a good thing he told himself a hundred times again as they hugged and parted with each other.

However, Neeta found her mood considerably lifting once she saw Kabir, who was to accompany her on this trip. He seemed cocky as usual and was a good friend. Light, kind hearted with a tongue in cheek humor; he was disinterested enough to let her not feel anything about him and still feel companionable enough. He teased her of finally leaving her husband, and she bantered with him on how his wife could permit him to go to the USA when he could not step out of the house without permission.

Sometime later as they waited in the terminal for the unending immigration process to be over, he got engrossed in his laptop on Facebook and personal emails. And Neeta focused her attention back on the terminal. Ideally, she thought should call back on Aditya to inquire if they reached back home but for the first time in many years, she felt free, truly free of motherly duties and the wifely ones. She suddenly felt invincible. She could talk to anyone behave in any way. No responsibilities no duties, no business of living a life she was not entirely happy with.

The aroma of hot coffee wafted in the air, and she loitered towards the café for a drink. It was one of those hugely expensive shops overpriced for international customers. Not a single 'desi' was to be found here. She ordered a cappuccino for Rupees 250, five times of what you can get outside in a similar shop and sat sipping it. It was an act of rebellion, against years of being miserly, counting money managing the household budget. She was the queen of her own kingdom. The flight was cold dark and lonely, but as the airplane flew over the Singapore airspace and the various boats and yachts came into view against the infinite blue ocean, Neeta felt she was a phoenix rising from the ashes to see the brave new world that awaited her.

Aditya retired to his room early. Now that all the excitement associated with the departure was over the house suddenly seemed silent and empty. Anjali had curled up with a book in one corner. Rohit seemed downcast and was supposedly doing homework on his study table. His mother managed to clear the dining table without a single clatter. Aditya had tried to lighten up the somber mood by getting some ice cream, but even that was eaten in silence. Aditya knew the children will bounce back in one two days, but he felt a desperate void which was disturbing. Six months they seemed like an eternity, he was used to Neeta, her laughter, her soft eyes wrinkling at the edges now. She was the only one who could guess something was wrong with him when things went badly in the office. The only one who could tell that if he was feeling tired or busy or fed up.

Was it his fault all this mess? He went over their main quarrels in the past 15 years, the contentious issues, her main grudges, the complaints she made, the accusations he made and all of them seemed trivial, nonsensical. He wanted his wife back by his side where she belonged. He could not connect with his kids or his family otherwise. He felt stranded. For years, he had considered himself blessed on having an agreeable wife malleable and docile. Neeta had been so ideal for so many years it had been a rude shock to discover that all was not perfect. Something had snapped somewhere inside her two years back, and things just spiraled down from there. First, she grudged his choices, then outright rebelled against them. Then she took small joys in taunting him and his family. The children were the next target, she being alternatively rude to them or negligent. No, they were no longer perfect happy little family and he could not hold up the pretense any longer.

[pastispresent]

Chapter 5

Author's Note: Thanks everyone for the stupendous response. I am sorry for the delay, I was confused how to move this story forward or to move it forward at all. Please let me know your suggestions/feedback as always.

Neeta sat fuming at her desk. The past fifteen days had been a whirlwind of meetings, releases and deliverables and she hardly had time to catch a breath in between.

It was the onset of winter in Denver. There was a nip in the air as days got shorter and nights cooler. People had start wearing jackets and mufflers to work; if at all she could see any people around. Her office was in the suburbs and it was as deserted a landscape as could be.

Due to the cold weather Kabir and Neeta had decided to buy a vehicle which they would share for six months. They had looked up a couple of individual sellers in Craig List as it was supposed to be cheaper and Kabir was as miserly a desi as one could be found. As days gone by, Neeta had become a little weary of Kabir whose jokes were getting stale and repetitive and who passed almost all his evenings in the bar sipping beer. Neeta realized she was bored to death almost wished to find a silly cheerful Indian girl for company.

On a sunny Sunday they both went car hunting on a borrowed vehicle. The Toyota was in a terrible condition and at least 15 years old. The suspicious lady selling it was frail and emaciated and she looked at them as if they were termites. Kabir t and Neeta made a quick escape on hearing the exorbitant amount she quoted.

Next stop was an elderly man whose Honda at least looked decently maintained. Kabir asked for a test drive and he insisted on a license. They both had Indian licenses and this guy was not convinced they had the international permit to drive. “Don’t want a run the car into the neighbor’s house, man!” he raised his hands up.

Neeta was almost done car hunting by that time, but they had to make a last stop at an Indian’s house. Milind Joshi.

They rode up to a small house like so many others in the neighborhood but with an impressive courtyard. “So, what do you think, third time lucky”, Kabir casually asked her as he called up his number on the phone.

“I do not think so Indians are the most miserly, he will most probably try to sell us an accident hit run down Toyota with engine problems for as high a price as possible,”

Neeta retorted; exasperated with how the evening was turning out to be. She was tired. She wanted to go back and sleep to wake up early the next morning and make her routine video call to India before the family went to bed. There was a huge difference between the time zones and it was getting increasingly difficult to keep up with it.

A well-dressed man appeared in the driveway. He was quite lean muscular and tall. He hardly appeared desi, his gait and posture were all western. Neeta wondered if he was even Indian. Maybe a second generation. He had sunken cheeks, small buried eyes, and sand pepper hair.

He addressed them with a casual, “Hello how are you doing”.

Kabir grasped his hand in a warm handshake reserved only for fellow Indians in a foreign land, “We are good how are you doing”

Neeta merely nodded.

“The car is in the garage, come take a look”, he led them to a huge garage where a sleek convertible was parked near a not so old Toyota. It was the best-looking vehicle Neeta had seen all day.

“It is 10 years old, automatic, never been in an accident, in an excellent condition and I sound like my own advertisement” he laughed a little self depreciatingly. His small eyes exuded warmth. He did seem like a genuinely pleasant person.

Kabir tried to have small talk with him; Neeta however preferred to get straight to business and she started to inspect the car.

“Where do you work? How long you have been in the USA”.

Well, maintained seats, not leather but the fabric did not look old.

“Infotech, no I am a US employee. As a matter of fact; I am Canadian; shifted here two years back. Here take the keys”, he addressed her suddenly. She took it.

The engine made good noise.

“I fell in love with the mountains, just could not leave.”

Gear was smooth. Air Conditioner worked. There was no funny odor either.

“The mileage is a little too much for a 10-year-old”, he turned to her again. He was more interested in showing off the car than in the chat but was too polite to end it, “I drove around a lot” This time the warm smile and gaze was exclusively directed at her.

How old was he?

Neeta took it out for a test drive, Kabir still chatting up to Milind about how different this land was from India, about family back there. Neeta cringed, Milind was not a desi. He did not care about India or meeting fellow Indians. But he was keen on selling and was generally agreeable. He even spoke a few sentences in Hindi and laughed at his pathetic attempt. The car, of course, had nothing bad going for it.

Neeta was glad that finally their deal could be sealed. She asked for the price. He asked for 4800 $.

Neeta offered $4000.

He smiled at her as if someone inconsequential and told her, he won’t go for less than $4500 and only because they were from India. Neeta felt that he was mocking them and Kabir for playing the desi card. She suddenly felt fury bristling through her at his impudence and arrogance, the same wrath she had felt so many times in India, so many times at her own hubby. At her own helplessness, her lack of freedom.

“Our price is not negotiable, thank you very much for your time”, she told him stiffly and turned around leaving Kabir dumbfounded. He stumbled behind her, gave her ‘What the hell’ look but to his credit drove off noiselessly.

After a few minutes, he ventured to speak. “Madam,” he told her lightly, “we will not get a car this way, did you never shop in Indian markets and bargained”. She remained silent.

“Car was good”, he spoke again regretfully. He was aware something had happened but was not sure what and was not really interested in finding out either. No wonder he drove his wife mad.

“Sorry Kabir”, Neeta apologized a little sulkily. She was not his wife, he did not deserve this from her.

“I got a little pissed off by his attitude. I thought he was mocking us” Why cannot she be like that with her own husband, accepting her mistake, meting out a sincere apology. Maybe when you were in a marriage the equations changed.

Kabir shrugged, “Ma’am, even if he was, So what. Even at 4300 dollars the car was good enough to take. How long do you plan to walk to Walmart for groceries? Winter is coming.”

Neeta remained silent.

“He was a little cunning, though, I could tell the moment I saw him”, Kabir added after a little while.

Neeta giggled. She now felt in control and was plain happy that she behaved the way she did. She was glad for once that she did not care of what will happen if she did not stick to the social norms.

“Why don’t you call him and say we agree for 4300 and finish the registration yourself. Just do not bring me in. I will pay my half”. She offered a truce.

Hmm, Kabir said nonchalantly. He was not going to call, Neeta knew. Kabir agreed to things, he did not initiate.

Two days passed, and Neeta thought the chapter was over, but the next Sunday she walked into Burger King for lunch and saw Milind having his big king burger on the counter. He stood directly facing her and was as surprised as her at the coincided He waved at her and she nodded, feeling a little awkward. She went to the counter ordered a chicken sandwich. She would have taken a takeaway, but it was a 10-minute walk back to the hotel.

She took her place as far away from him as possible near a window overlooking an empty parking lot. It was a cold and dry day as usual out there.

He approached her. “Bought a car yet” he inquired lightheartedly.

She laughed, “No, did you sell yours yet”

“Oh, shouldn’t be that big a problem”, he nodded his head and pointed towards the table “May I sit down.”

Neeta was surprised at this request and felt uncomfortable. But she gestured him to go ahead. What could he want with her now? She waited expectantly for him to start a conversation.

He went in for small talk. Denver, the weather, when did they come. How was her company? What role did she play etc.

Milind’s presence was magnetic. His eyes though small were appealing and expressive. His way of speaking sophisticated that cut across cultures and geography. Here was the man who would be comfortable anywhere. He seemed genuinely interested in her and Neeta felt her cryptic replies were appearing rude, and she was conversing with him more and more. It was as if he was gently coaxing her to open. But to what end was something she could not understand, he did not look as if he wasted his time chatting with almost strangers or needed to.

“Oh you are married with two big kids; how did you manage to leave them for so long”, Milind was genuinely astounded.

To Neeta however, it was like rubbing a fresh wound.

“How old are you”, she snapped back. She was behaving with this man like an old frustrated spinster.

“33”, he was not offended, his eyes had rolled back a little at the abruptness of the question, though. “And you?” This was his charm Neeta thought, it did not seem like he ever got annoyed.

” I’ am married with two big kids, you should not ask me this”, she was four years older than him, so there was no reason to feel intimidated by him; at least in her culture.

“Oh, I assure you, you look quite young” Milind added chivalrously. Neeta felt pathetic, she felt like an middle aged married lady fishing for compliments. Her face must have shown embarrassment for Milind changed track quickly.

“So, the Toyota, let us say 4.3 and settle it, you know you will be stealing it from me at 4K and I can assure you it is a good car.”

So that is what it was all about. The car. Good, he was trying to sell. Neeta remembered that he was a marketing guy, something in public relations. Selling was his profession Maybe that’s all what he was trying to do since the moment he saw her. Sell the goddamn car. He must have taken her stubborn refusal as a challenge.

But Neeta was in no mood to haggle, anymore. Kabir had been extremely lazy and was more interested in playing buddies with the US professionals to fix their immediate problem. She realized the onus lied on her to fix stuff.

“Let us go and get the car checked by the mechanic first and see what comes out of it”, she told him diplomatically making sure the negotiation remained open-ended. If he thought of her as a hard-balling bitch, so much the better.

But he was a marketing guy and was not easily fooled. He expanded his shoulder broke into his warm smile as if at a victory won and said “Excellent, I know a good mechanic”

They exchanged numbers, fixed up Monday noon as rendezvous time to go to the mechanic and both came out of the restaurant at the same time. He offered her a lift back to Hotel, but she refused.

The convertible was parked outside. It must have cost a fortune. Milind looked glamorous and caddish as he jumped into it and waved her goodbye. Neeta wondered if he was married as he rode by. Not likely, she decided. Married men did not look so goddamn pleased with themselves all the time; their wives would not let them be.

[pastispresent]

Chapter 6

Aditya was having a horrendous time. His parents had gone off to a wedding in Rishikesh for two weeks. They had insisted they did not need to go, Aditya had insisted back knowing fully well how important these family weddings were to them. But now he regretted his decision. No one had prepared him for teenage daughters and their tantrums. He wanted to discuss this with Neeta in detail and during their routine calls his morning and her night. He had refused Anjali permission to go to movies with her friends and consequently she was sulking the entire week and giving him the silent treatment. He did not even know whether his wife allowed her to go to movies with friends at all and when confronted with the decision he had faltered. He asked all his friends with teenage kids and they have given such varied opinions that he was more confused than ever. So, he had chosen the safer option and refused. Consequently, his dear daughter would not talk to him; would be alone in her room reading a book and eat her dinner silently. He had offered to take her to the movie himself, but she promptly refused with so much disdain as her own mother that he almost laughed to her face at the remembrance.

He would have ignored her, but Anjali helped him with Rohit. And he was left alone now to manage an uncooperative daughter and a truant son. Of all the money, he spent on the maid he hardly ever got to see her. She came in the morning after the children had gone to school and he was rushing off to the office. She dismissed him summarily as if the home now belonged to her and not him and he would better be off wherever he was going. His instructions fell on deaf ears. But the house would be clean once he came back and the dinner cooked and that’s all that mattered. She had such an imperious attitude that to tell the truth he was mildly scared of her. This was the main reason why he hired her anyway, if he was afraid of her, the children would be too.

However, it was impossible to dish out dinner, clean up the kitchen counter and the house and check up on the children all during the limited evening hours after office. Rohit would play on the football grounds and sometimes Aditya forgot to call him back and he would be out till 8. He was sure homework was not being done. He had no idea what was going on with Anjali at all, she just seemed so engrossed with her friends and her laptop that it caused him more worry than his brattish son. The kitchen was smelling a little already and he was sure his wife would not approve of the hygienic standards in there, but that’s the best he could do.

Aditya was a desperate and he wanted his pretty wife to call him and guide him. He planned to shed his ego and beg her to come back early. Surely there must be some office provisions for family emergencies. Late in the night when both the kids had gone to sleep he lied alone his king-sized bed, missing her warmth. He could not sleep. It just all seems so dreary and stagnated and useless. He wanted all attention to be on him, but he drove those thoughts away, he would have his mid-life crisis when Neeta was around to appreciate it.

Neeta had settled in more now that she had a vehicle. She was having a good time driving it around the city, an empty city. Through deserted lanes, ghostly but well-lit highways, almost everywhere and anywhere. Driving was so pleasurable in here that she wondered how she would ever do this in India again without feeling deprived of its joys.

She also liked going to the public library occasionally watching the little kids pick up crayons and books. It reminded her of the golden years when Anjali and Rohit were toddlers and so much fun to be with. She would sit on one of the little-kids chairs and laugh out loud at some memory hidden in the cobwebs of her mind.

Once she picked up a Bollywood magazine lying around; it featured two beautiful female actors in a dancing posture femininely dressed in a sari, fully adorned with ethnic tika, nath and all of gold jewelry. It was the poster of a new movie coming out. For some reason, Neeta felt the same indignation she had been feeling for years at this objectification of women. This gross stereotyping of women as men viewed them. A goddess, a beautiful object to be admired, appreciated or ogled at. Why was not she allowed to be a simple human being first.

She wondered if men were stereotyped as well. And it was true they were. She herself had done it. How did Aditya’s work become a career and hers a mere job over the years? When the kids were young, and they were under financial strain, she herself had pushed him to work harder and longer; take up coveted positions; earn more. She had thought her responsibilities were not just work but home as well and to be a good mother first. But the priorities were different for Aditya; he was a good husband and father if he helped around the house but for him the focus was always to succeed first professionally. They both had mutually; if silently agreed to these roles and performed accordingly. And they both had worked and worked and worked without a moment pause waiting to ask what they wanted out of life for themselves.

But how different life could be for other people. This guy Milind she had met; he was 33; not married and not bothered about his parents or family. He did not seem much interested in his career either. He was right now in public relations but changed his roles frequently trying out new stuff, whatever he fancied and whenever he wished to. For the past two years, he was staying in this small city in the middle of nowhere so that he could ski in the snowy slopes of Rocky Mountains. Earlier she assumed only the very rich had the luxury to do what they wanted to do, now she realized it was all in the lifestyle one chose. Milind. He was free like a bird. She wondered if one could ignore the ties of the world and still be part of it. If one could just live for oneself and still be happy.

She and Kabir kept bumping into Milind now and then and he had almost become a friend. It was a small city anyway and he may have been lonely. She could not fathom how he and Kabir got along considering their frequencies always looked a little mismatched to her but hey men were men. They would buddy up with anyone for a drink. Sometimes she joined them for breakfasts, bowling or dinner. It was good fun just like college.

When Neeta came out of the public library it was already dark. Winter had arrived, and the wind was much chillier now. The trees had shed their leaves and the landscape had turned desolate with the naked branches hanging in isolation. The Rockies with hardly a vegetation on them stood in the background like a pretty picture postcard. She pulled the jacket close to her and hurried to her car. The kids must be off to school by now, Neeta figured but Aditya had requested for a telephone call and she had to hurry before he rush off to office.

When her car approached the hotel though she saw Milind coming out. They met each other in the parking lot.

“Hi there, where are you off too”, she called out to him. Neeta’s earlier antagonism had disappeared as they were meeting so frequently now, and an easy camaraderie had developed between them.

“Your friend K, abandoned me, his wife ordered a video call and he like a trained soldier had to obey the commander”

Neeta laughed. After almost a month, she had learned reliably that Kabir was not kidding when he said he lived in terror of his wife.

“Why don’t you come. We were going to the Piper pub and grill for dinner. I do not want to go alone”, he added.

Neeta knew she had to refuse, it was inappropriate for her to go alone with him. She came up with a lame excuse, “I think Kabir will not like that we left him alone and went by”

“Ok then we will not tell him”, Milind shrugged. He spoke so nonchalantly that it did not seem offensive at all. He had pulled his jacket up to his neck and was holding it there to keep the wind out. But the wind still blew directly into his face and his already small eyes were obscured out of view. He looked vulnerable as he bent outside her car window which was still half rolled up and waited for her answer.

What the hell, that was more inappropriate but someone else other than her in the car must have answered. “Let’s go then”. He got into the seat and they drove off.

Neeta never called up Aditya. He waited and then went to the office around noon. He thought it was a good thing after all. He was caught in a weak moment when he decided to ask Neeta to come back. And he did not like being weak or begging his wife for anything.

[pastispresent]

Chapter 7

The awkwardness Neeta felt being alone with Milind soon dissipated when she found that the Piper Pub and Grill Bar exuded a warm energy. The ambience was great, and the restaurant was pleasantly and cheerfully crowded. They ordered exotic sea food and tested their palates with red wine whose soothing richness calmed her nerves and soon she started enjoying herself.

Neeta and Milind talked about mountaineering for a while and then about his passion, her children, IT industry, H1B visas, India. Polite conversation, so generic it did not matter at all but continuously flowing like a stream rushing from one rock to another. Milind was wearing his trademark checkered shirt and formal pants. He sat with his hands folded on the table also his trademark posture. He was a modern-day hippie who loved each day as it came and enjoyed a good conversation. He told a funny story about skiing which had Neeta in splits. Not that she could hear much of the story above the general din of the bar which also had light music playing in the corner, but she laughed heartily, throwing her head back

The effects of the wine took her as her muscles relaxed and her toes uncurled. She had never drunk like this before. It seemed to her that this was the first time she had ever truly enjoyed drinking.

“I should get you back to the hotel while you are still walking”; Milind commented looking at her amused.

“Oh, I never lost control, I know my limits”, Neeta boasted though she recognized some truth in his words.

“You should let others decide your level of intoxication”

“I have let others take care of my life for too long”, Neeta answered, she did not care today what she said.

They were quite for some time.

“I find you very intriguing,” Milind said after a little while focusing on her.

“You do”

“Yes, I was sort of a rebel in my childhood, my parents wanted to raise me with Indian values. But I could never associate myself with the culture that was foreign to me, I wanted to be as American as possible, so I always did whatever my white friends did, celebrated Christmas, not Diwali, did not visit the temples, never dated any Indian girl just to prove my allegiance. But now that when I thought I have distanced myself enough, now when it does not even matter to my folks what I do. I want to spend time with you. This is strange”

Where was he going with this?

“You want to rediscover your Indian roots through us”, she laughed feeling the irony of it.

“Maybe it is just you” he shrugged and smiled.

“What do you mean”, she replied a little too quickly.

He flexed his shoulders and got up.

“Let us go outside, we need to clear our heads before we can drive.”

He held her as she got up unsteadily and they went out on the porch. Some garden chairs were lying around and they each took one. It was so chilly, no one was outside. Everyone preferring the warmth of closed doors. But the cold wind ruffled her hair and she felt at peace as they sat in silence looking at the mountains for a long time.

Later that night when the alcohol was wearing off her system and a mild headache took over, Neeta wondered if Milind had a soft spot for her. The thought simply amused her; and not frightened her in any way, she had been married way too many years to find this dangerous at all. Her marriage was like an impenetrable armor, an unshakeable fact of life like sun itself which could not be questioned; so she allowed herself to flirt with her fancies for a while. Her inner self-became aware of his masculinity and the glamorous way he moved around in his athletic manner. How his eyes cringed at the sides when he laughed, she had not paid any similar attention to any man’s facial features for a long time.

Milind did seem to enjoy her company. They went skiing, pubs, restaurants, malls. Sometimes Kabir accompanied them but now and then he was busy or simply unavailable and they found themselves alone together. Milind however was always the perfect gentleman and Neeta really began to believe that her suspicions were the consequence of an overactive imagination. She anyway felt that she was acting crazy enough these days and subdued her instincts. But he sought her out so often that it was hard not to be continuously in doubt. He after all looked like a man who would not waste his time with anyone.

The only time she ever truly felt guilty was when Milind would sweep her off to desolate landscapes at the oddest of times and sit with her in silence for hours. Like during a fishing expedition all day when the freezing surface of lake would not even break into a ripple or on a stroll through the city parks as the sun left its last streaks of orange on the dark green trees. He would just stare at the starlit sky, feel the wind, soak in the sunrise. Neeta felt that the quietude and comfort that developed between them during these long silences was more inappropriate than all the hanging out they did together. Close acquaintances, friends did not have right to such contentment in each other’s company.

Once they broke that silence on a weekend trip to a skiing resort. Milind played their instructor teaching them how to ski. Neeta and Kabir were hopeless in their lessons. Neeta would fall frequently and Kabir was worse, every time he went down the slope, he veered off and crash into the trees. This would crack Neeta up and she would fall still more. After some time, all of them were exhausted and hardly ever skied. Milind gave up, they had early dinner in the evening and Kabir retired to his room.

But Neeta stayed on, she sat with Milind on the snowy mountain summit and they talked for hours. His life and hers. Her marriage, his parents, her job, his hobbies, her kids, his girlfriends.

Nothing in common between them. She had lived life as if synchronized to the tunes of a marching band. Left, right, Left, right she had followed all the steps until she was unable to take a free step of her own without guilt or anger. He was a free spirit, always rebelling until there was nothing more left to rebel to.

The night sky was now strewn with bright stars stretching into the horizon as far as eyes could see. The snowy cliff was bathed now in a silvery glow, the landscape dramatic and vivid as if in a dream All the holiday revelers have left by now and the valley looking hauntingly beautiful in its strange desolation. It was so cold; the wind was biting; Neeta wrapped her arms to herself. None of them fully understood the sense of unfulfillment they faced inside them; yet somehow, they did not feel so alone now. When it was too cold to bear, they went back to their respective rooms.

Aditya had learned a couple of things about his life in his wife’s absence. First was that he had to handle the demands of a chaotic life on his own and no friends or kin will be coming around to help him out. His ailing parents were no help and he had to be careful not to snap back when his hypochondriac father demanded a doctor for the 40th time in a day. His mother had her routine which was not to be disturbed or questioned. Anjali was no angel, but at a delicate stage and needed to be managed even more tactfully. She responded more to love and affection anyways than direct orders. Rohit was to be reined in and he relied on purely tyrannical fatherly behavior for this; any psychological damage to his nine-year-old can be assessed later; he just hoped that in six months not much harm would be done.

He tried to be in control, though, even though sometimes it felt the nerves on his forehead would explode with the effort and he would start yelling at someone. But he maintained his composure. This was not an ideal family where almost everyone attended to their own needs and did not care for the other. Aditya realized he will have to be the kind dictator, the patriarch, the trunk of the tree which held it all together. He was awfully lonely. His office work was suffering, and it was only the goodwill he had maintained over the years that was helping him string along. It was literally survival from one day to another. The only silver lining was that the passports and visas were ready and just after a month they would be gone on a two-week vacation to the USA.

He swore that when Neeta comes back he will never again side with her daughter in conflicts or tell her how useful his mother had been. He will have a heart to heart discussion with her when the time was right. No matter what happens when she comes back, he will do everything in his power to make things right between them. They needed to be a team, not a winning team, not even a potentially strong one, but they needed to be together. He did not even care what went wrong, how the script of his story had twisted like that, whether he was to blame or she. Neeta was a person, not an instrument to get what he wanted. He would cater to her needs whatever it maybe because she was the only person capable or available to cater to his.

[pastispresent]

Chapter 8

Authors's note: Writing is flowing now, Lets see where it goes. Please do let me know your comments and feedback.

Neeta sat across the glass partition, noticing her family in the busy airport terminal from afar. Instead of rushing to meet them, she was frozen with fear in her seat. What had she been doing these past three months? She had completely forgotten everything about them. Why had she been so cold and indifferent? She must have been a terrible wife and a horrible mother. Anjali had the appearance of a sickly waifish teenage not the health wholesome girl she remembered. Rohit looked wild and neglected; his hair sticking in all directions, his mouth and t-shirt dirty with chocolate stains. Neeta shook herself as if to swat the mass of complicated thoughts swarming her head like dirty flies. Bottom line was she had abandoned the. She looked at Aditya as he frantically searched for her and her heart curled up into a bitter foul mass like stale meat. Something you just want to throw out of your refrigerator.

Aditya was frustrated and tired too, the children were getting on his nerves. Rohit in his excitement had got lost twice, Anjali had not eaten and consequently was cranky and wimpy both. They just had a 26-hour long journey and he could not find Neeta anywhere. For the past 4 months, Aditya had only one thought and that was to catch a glimpse of his wife and hug her tightly and now he could barely wait. A panic rose within him, lately she had not been too prompt with her phone calls and messages, barely keeping in touch. Was she alright? Had she slipped further into depression, he had been two engrossed in managing the household that he barely thought about her well-being. About how she was managing in a foreign and strange country. He should have paid more attention to her. He started to feel desperate until he saw her statuesque like staring at them. He rushed off leaving the kids and the luggage behind and held her close.

As they all bundled up excitedly into her brand new secondhand car and Aditya loaded the luggage in the boot, the first snow of the season started to fell. Anjali and Rohit both squealed with delight simultaneously. “Oh, it is about time, this was long coming”, Neeta told them.

Neeta realized that children were forgiving. They had done well without her and did not grudge her indifference over the past few months. Anjali showered her with an affection she usually reserved for her father and Rohit brought her gifts. Aditya was as surprised as her at their love and the family slept in the same bed all on top of each other, laughing and joking late into the night. In the middle of the night, Aditya took a pillow and flopped on the carpet, dead to the world.

The next morning, Aditya planned to take them to I-Hop for breakfast. Kabir met them in the hotel lobby and was promptly invited too. The kids loved the pancake and tried all variations, cream, blueberries, chocolate sauce. Aditya chatted up with Kabir and Neeta welcomed the diversion. She would prefer anything but a chat with her husband now.

“She is always knee deep in work, always on her laptop, working, working and working”, Kabir gestured towards her.

Neeta quailed at the undeserved commendation, she wondered why Kabir would praise her when he knew how untrue it was. She hardly had paid any attention to office and was the first one to run away in the evening. But Aditya was not paying attention, Rohit dripped chocolate sauce on his t-shirt and he promptly wiped it up with a tissue. Neeta could not but notice that Aditya was more responsible towards children now and much more considerate and affectionate. She wondered if his changed behavior was to appease her and if it was too late.

When they came out, the whole landscape was covered in a thick sheet of white. Snow came late but had fallen thick and heavy. The air was not just chilly, it was biting and icy. But the scene was no novel to them and so beautiful, everyone just got immersed into the scenery. Rohit and Anjali buddied up for a snow throwing match while the elders looked on mesmerizingly at the innocence of the kid’s game.

The small hotel room where Neeta lived was overcrowded with the four of them. The whole room was a big mess with big suitcases threw in and clothes strewn all over the bed and floor. Steam sneaked through the bathroom and outside filling the room with thick haze. Rohit was making full use of the bathroom facilities and Anjali was banging on the bathroom door, much like the old days. Neeta was quickly getting ready for office. She was already late; her hair was wet, and she was looking for warm clothes in this mess. Suddenly she found herself scooped in her husband’s arm and being kissed. Anjali was focused on the door; a mist had formed in the whole room and Aditya had seized his chance.

Neeta tried not to think of the discomfort it caused her while driving back to the office.

Aditya had planned well for the two weeks. All evening they would have, or other activity lined up and and the children were really enjoying themselves. During a long weekend in between, they planned to meet go to Las Vegas/LA for holidays. The evening before their weekend Neeta passed Kabir in the hallway. He told her he was going out with Milind.

“Oh, is he in the parking lot, I will go say hello.” Neeta was happy to see him. She wanted him to meet her family.

“No, he is waiting at the restaurant; he said he will meet me directly there”

A wave of regret washed over her as she wistfully remembered his face. The amused sunken face she had gotten so accustomed to.

“Oh well, say hi to him from me”

“Okay,” Kabir nodded.

“Your husband is a nice man” Kabir spoke suddenly changing the topic in an abrupt manner.

“Oh, I will be sure to tell him that he has earned a fan.” Neeta laughed at this observation.

Kabir shrugged and went on his way, leaving Neeta bemused.

They started the vacation with Vegas. Anjali enjoyed the shows and Rohit the stratosphere rides. Aditya followed Anjali like a magnet while Neeta spent time with Rohit; her adorable son who bounced from here to there in an abundance of energy until she was too tired to run after him and yet with shaky legs followed him everywhere. The family spent time in the waves pool, with hysterical shouts as each wave hit them. Aditya tried to make sure Rohit does not drown while Anjali and Neeta left all caution to winds and just enjoyed the moments. they walked on Vegas pathways until their feet hurt and were not able to walk anymore; everyone except Rohit.

The next stop was LA where they visited the sets of Hollywood; its fake beauty so magnificent it would put a real city to shame. The next stop was Disneyland. It was too big to cover in one day and they stood in queues as they took trips to the numerous attractions that dotted the place. The kids were hysterical with joy and were soon out of control. Aditya tried hopelessly for them not to get lost.

It is at this place and in their general state of blissful happiness that Aditya thought he could have a serious discussion with Neeta. He had no chance because Neeta did not seem remotely interested in any aspect of her old life. She did not ask anything about his parents, their friends, neighbors not even about the maid. He led the conversation slowly to topics related to their life in India and finally she responded.

“How have you been doing; has the trip been relaxing to you,” Aditya asked her.

Yes, very. She answered honestly.

“I cannot wait to have you back in India, things have been pretty hectic”

“And you want me to take care of it”, she replied sarcastically.

Aditya was hurt, “We cannot run away from our responsibilities and our life, Neeta”.

Neeta was quiet. She had not suggested that.

“I have realized it is us who have to make our lives and no one else who can do it for us; even if we do not like it. We can do this either gladly or joylessly. We have no other choice.”

No other choice. Life would be the same once she returns. The hectic chaos, the traffic, boring office, messy kitchens.

“Then let us make as much of this time as we can” Neeta got up, she had this conversation with him so many times. And it never went anywhere.

“I am willing to discuss this as much as you want”, Aditya did not want the discussion to be over.

Neeta did not reply. After some time, she spoke, “let us get our kids, they can easily get lost here”

Aditya was stricken by her callous attitude and he said what he never thought he will say in his lifetime, “Do you love me”

Neeta laughed out aloud, he looked so pathetic. She turned away and walked away among a sea of happy people, celebratory balloons, and fake clowns.

During the initial years of their marriage, Neeta would often ask him, Do you love me and Aditya would laugh and tease her. Sometimes he replied maybe, sometimes Not again, sometimes love is overrated, he never seriously tried to convince her that he loved her. Aditya was a practical man, he found the notion of romance and love quite foolish. After some years, she had ceased to ask. It was such sweet revenge to hear him pose this question to her now.

Aditya’s warmth for her cooled down a little bit after this episode. Nothing seemed to have changed on the surface even in their interactions. Both supposedly had a good time during the vacation. When the two weeks were over, and they were at the departure terminal, the troubled couple hugged almost disinterestedly. Many protestations of love were made by Neeta for the kids and she promised to take care of their big shopping lists. She cried taking them into her arms and quite embarrassing them.

Neeta stood up and looked at her husband with red-rimmed tear-filled eyes and seeing him desolate, tugged on his sleeve trying to reach out to him. They hugged again and this time she kissed him on the forehead a warm kiss.

“Come back soon”, he said misty eyed.

Things would become better after a time, he knew in his heart. There was no other turn they could take. Even the children did not say anything. They were amused with this unseen protestation of love from their parents.

“I will, I promise,” Neeta reassured him and they both knew the promise meant so much more than its literal meaning. Aditya looked relieved now. He herded the kids inside, Neeta stood at the same place long after they have gone.

[pastispresent]

Chapter 9

Milind splashed water on her face. He tried not to reflect on what he was doing. His chest muscles broke into ripples as he bent over the sink. His athletic lifestyle helped him maintain his well-built body, he was a good-looking fella and knew how to turn on the charm. He knew women were attracted to him, he could anyone he wanted. 

So, what was he doing here in this bathroom?

He was playing with dangerous fire. Milind would not have cared much for fire had he not been aware that he could burn.

He had wanted to settle down. His folks had even stopped caring what he did, who he was with. They were happy within their community and in each other’s presence. They were old, they had their own ailments to think of. There was nothing to rebel against now. And he had quenched all the burning fires inside him. Been everywhere, done everything he ever thought of. And now he was alone.

He had not always been lonely. He once had gone steady in his late twenties with a brunette and thought that was it. He would marry her, stay in Toronto and be happy forever. She was an ambitious girl, unintimidated, powerful. She was outgoing like him, loved sports, held her own in a room full of strangers. An amazon of a woman. But soon enough their cultural differences, egos and little insecurities came into light; just like in any other relationship. The girl told him in love it happens that they had to work on it. Milind was not the kind of man to work for his emotions, he believed in gratification. If this was love; he did not want any of it. He broke up with her and told himself that steady long-term relationship was not for him. Breaking up was easy but the he was not prepared for the heart break it caused; the sharp-edged pain sieving the heart in two when you lose a loved one.

He was young and got over it but now he knew he was going to get hurt again. He came out of the bathroom; looked at the naked beautiful figure of Neeta and let out a sigh. Here was another complicated relationship he would better stay away from. But there was something strangely attractive about this woman; whose soul was willing to fly away; whose heart was broken under the guilt of her own desires. She reminded him of his rebellion years. It was ironical that here he was trying to find an anchor after years of drifting, and he was looking for support at a woman, who was trying to break all her anchors. He slipped into the white bedsheet next to her and bent over to look at her black captivating eyes. She was gorgeous, he had been an idiot for not dating Indian women before. He was a handsome man and she was beautiful and that is all that he needed to think of.

Neeta quivered with shameless delights as he touched her. She did not feel like she was cheating. She must have worn out of any such feelings when she realized she no longer loved her husband of many years. No, she had this situation completely rationalized. She had only one allegiance and that to her family. It was just this time that was her own, after a month she needed to go back to her old life when she had to live as before without any choice. So, this was her time, her own time unfettered and unencumbered from any bonds or vows she had made to her husband. Much like what you did while healing. Yoga, reiki, acupuncture. You heal. She was having this affair to heal herself.

How it had happened did not matter anymore. He had writhed in agony as he had waited outside her doorstep trying to explain why he had not tried to meet her family and why he was outside her doorstep now. He had almost given up but gathering on his courage he had knocked on the door. Neeta had opened disheveled, eyes beady with tears and quivering lips.

“Why can’t I be happy?” she had asked him. “All that I need to do is to be happy and I can’t do that”

Milind had looked at her, made her sit on her bed and told her that he missed her and then he leaned over and took her in his arms. Even in the subsequent throes of passion he could not shake off the notion that he had taken advantage of a very broken, distressed woman.

They usually met at his house to avoid Kabir. She enjoyed being there. It was sparsely furnished, and they would lie on the carpet for hours in front of the fireplace while snow fell on the ground outside. His home was like a cocoon to her. The warm hearth protecting her from evil thoughts, from the world itself. Neeta wanted to be happy for so long and she was. The world may curse her for it, ostracize her, but she had found that elusive joy she had craved for. She had followed her heart's wishes. She did not want a life where she had to toil, where she must be an adult, responsible for keeping it all together. She wanted to let go.

Neeta was aware of the nature of the adulterous relationship she was in. She did not pretend that she was in love with Milind and did not have such expectations from him either. She did not spare her any moral quibbles of that sort. She did not plan any confession to Aditya. She was invincible in her duplicity. In the fact that he will never know. She wondered how she would have reacted if she found out he was cheating on her. It was a hypothetical question. Maybe during her early years of marriage when she was still in love, she would have felt guilt but not now; too much water had flown under the bridge.

The month passed quickly by and soon enough it was time for Neeta to leave. Why is it that time flies when you do not want it to? Neeta was supposed to leave at noon and she was spending the morning at his house. She had cooked Indian breakfast to tease him; ghee parathas and aloo ki sabzi swimming in oil. He vowed he will not touch it.

“I don’t want you to go”, he told her a hundredth time.

“You will want me to if I stayed her a couple of more months”, she teased.

He kept quiet, she like to believe he was a rake and she wanton and there was no actual need to break that impression either.

“And keep on serving me this breakfast”, he added easily.

She laughed heartily.

He held her from behind and smelt her. She was leaving today; he will never see her again; so why they needed to play this game. Why cannot he simply confess he loved her and let her live with that.

For her. He reminded himself, Neeta was already too fragile. He did not want to cause any more turmoil on behalf of him.

He ate the parathas and sabzi; oil and everything.

“I will need to burn this off by stretches of basketball”, he joked.

“You will be fine, it the tummy aches drink up lime soda”, she suggested him like she would do to her kids.

“Prescribe something for the heart too”, he asked casually.

Her eyes raised, and she rolled it back, she picked up his dish and washed it in the sink. She wiped clean the kitchen slap and made his bed. Doing little things to prolong the imminent departure.

As she packed her stuff in her car and was about to move off. He whispered in her ears.

“Everyone needs to love. Go back and love someone.”

She was surprised. He held and dragged her to her car seat.

“Whatever that meant”, she turned on her ignition keys.

“Whatever”, he told her and smiled.

As she pulled off the driveway, she kept looking at his reflection in the rearview mirror, till it was gone much too quickly.

[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 school. 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”.

[pastispresent]

Chapter 11

Milind accepted his fate with a quiet resignation characteristic to his nature, when Neeta had not turned up in Goa. She was finally doing the right thing and he had no desire to break a home. He ceased sending messages to her and realized maybe being lonely was his destiny. The two relationships he had been serious about did not work out and he could not bring himself to invest in a third. He could still feel an occasional lust, desire for a conquest, but love that was another matter altogether.

He had spent the week in Goa largely ignoring his friends, swimming in the gentle waves of sea; riding his rented bike out among green fields and the narrow lanes. The countryside was beautiful and not littered or messy at all like rest of the India. The Goan-Portuguese architecture was beautiful; the fishing hamlets were sleepy and unhurried. And there were still some beaches where you could not see a single soul for miles. He waited every day for her to turn up.

And then when he was done and could not wait any longer, he returned to Varanasi. The spiritual land where his parents meditated and searched for the meaning of life meant nothing to him. It was chaotic, and dirty. During evening when the Aarti was being performed, the bells chimed in the background and the pilgrims prayed to find solace in; he often wondered how he could not find anyone in this sea of people that lived on earth to call his own.

He reached out to one person he had ever felt intimate with; Daniel in Canada. She was happy, she had found success, was a highly paid executive and enjoyed crushing people beneath her high heeled stilettoes. She laughed wickedly about it, according to her it released negative energy inside her. She was in an on-off relationship with a bull of a man, who matched her aggression. They fought each other hard and then got together again.

“Maybe it was not meant to be, you and me.”, she told him philosophically.

“Yes”, he did not know what else to say.

“What is going on with you” she inquired inquisitively.

“Just going on, I plan to compete in the winter events here,” he said distractedly.

“Is it a girl. Are you broken hearted? Oh, I am so sorry”, Daniel clucked empathetically but it only made Milind wince.

“You should come and live with us for some time”, she told him generously which made him feel just pathetic.

“Sure someday”, he assured her morosely and slightly untruthfully.

Even this vixen of a woman had found her dwelling. Where was his?

He was doing well in a publishing company in France, there were a lot of French girls, so waifish and flat chested they were almost androgynous. He could not get attracted to them. But he lived on, enjoying the sunny weather, the hedonism of Parisian life. He would smoke melancholy on the banks of the river Seine, blowing away wisps of smoke, burning out little French cigarettes. He was a pebble in a world of his own, cast away under the effect of his own desires.

So, when he received a message from Neeta one morning, he found himself to be getting uncharacteristically excited. He picked up her favorite coffee as he remembered and waited expectantly at the Charles De Gaulle airport. The message was short and simple.

Coming to Paris. Flight landing at 8 a.m.

She had not asked him to come, she had not contacted him for many days. She had just sent a message. He was grateful that she had. He did not know if she came for one day or one week or forever. She was here and today he would tell her how he felt about her. Neeta came out of the airport, in a disheveled attire, looking more distraught and forlorn than her fellow travelers.

He waved to her; the words “I Love You” playing on his lips and waiting to be said out aloud. They hugged each other, and Neeta started bawling in the middle of the busy airport terminal, leaning on his overcoat attracting curious looks from passersby. Milind hushed her in soothing tones. Whatever it was that he wanted to say, had to wait.

Grief, when a loved one passes by, is inconsolable. Betrayal when a loved one leave is much harder. Aditya would have preferred if his wife had died of cancer or crushed over in a freak accident. The pain he felt now was much worse. His mother could not be put in the dark any further. His father a hypochondriac was spared the troubles. His mother fantastically took his wife’s side. There was no need to drive her away. She was enraged with her actions but according to her there was no need to leave.

He could not believe her words. He thought she would at least be on his side, maybe plan a second marriage but he had underestimated the power of affection that grandmothers have. She called Neeta, asked her if she wanted to come back quite coldly of course. On hearing affirmative, she beseeched him to settle things with her. Aditya had always listened to his mother, his mother who did not interfere in his life even if the question was as mundane as what is cooking for dinner. The same mother was passing him the injunction to bring back his adulterous wife. He ignored her as old fashioned. He did not care for Neeta, not any longer, not even the sake of their kids.

He would have called her back had he known she wanted to come back. But he had been unable not to spy and got to know the name of ‘the man’. It was not so difficult after all he knew her email id and password. He knew she had gone straight to his arms after leaving this house. She had left her own husband for another man. The fifteen years had meant nothing, nothing at all. How can he live with her under the same roof again? He liked to think of himself as a practical man, but such hypocrisy went against his moral fabric.

Aditya immersed himself in work, to maintain his sanity. His strength seemed to have gone with his wife. He cried often saving his tears for the night in the comfort of his bedroom. His wails muffled in his pillow. He did not even want his mother as he thought she will take things into her own hands and bring his wife back if she knew of his distress. He went to no one for help. The core of the tree as he thought of himself was rotten and corrupted and if he was to be any good to anyone he had to heal himself first.

The children were still largely ignorant but not unaffected. Anjali behavior was erratic, Rohit getting gloomier by the day. The family was falling apart. And Aditya did not care.

Neeta would not have gone to her lover had she known there was scope to come back. But she had thought the door to her old life was shut forever. And she had gone to the only person who would provide solace to her without judging her, not even sure if he would make himself available to do it.

But Milind had taken care of her and she was grateful. Maybe he did love her, but she did not believe in love anymore. Milind had stood with her as she stayed in his two-room apartment crying her heart out, morning, afternoon, evening and night. The curtains remain shut, the light switched off, no one ventured to even go out in the balcony and take in the aura of the beautiful city. Everything was lost to her, the blue sky, the tourists, the beautiful paved roads and the pigeons flying above. She had quit her job. And these days she simply passed away staring at the walls, waiting for the time of day when she could call her children and tell them about the fake exciting day she had. But days passed by and then weeks and then months, she slowly started going out for groceries, made Milind’s bed, cooked his dinner. In the face of consistent kindness, firmness and generosity of her only friend in the world, she began to recover.

They went to river Seine and took a daily stroll by its banks or boat trips. They walked till they were tired to death in the numerous beautiful parks of Paris. They visited the various museums, staring for a long time at some painting or sculpture they liked. Not bothering to discuss its aesthetic value. He took her to the countryside, driving away in relative silence just a word or two between them. Sometimes he would hug her and hold her close, but it was always an asexual act provided for comfort and not for desire.

Milind took her to the winter events on the Alps where he competed. She would sit on the top of the peak, not participating or cheering him but just sitting as he skied the dangerous slopes. Once he fell and got hurt and he saw a spark of concern in her eyes, it made him feel extremely pleased.

He took her then to meet his friends who were mostly Parisians. They conversed only in French. Milind spoke the language, but it was alien to Neeta. Who stood there mostly like a deaf and mute. He asked her if she did not want to go, but she said she did not mind. The noise and aura of artificial cheerfulness were better than the silence of the walls of the apartment around her. Sometimes Neeta felt she would drown in that silence. She would stand there with a fake smile plastered on her face as the beautiful ladies, intellectual authors, smart publishers talked about every topic in the world.

Neeta bought western dresses to fit in. The slim fitting black dress a must for all parties. Floating gowns. Smart trousers. All of Paris fashion at her command. Shopping healed her, and she spent handsomely. Mostly for herself and sometimes for Anjali and Rohit, hoping the clothes would not get too short when she sees them next.

In one of the parties as she stood there barely paying attention to who was talking to Milind, scraps of English reached her ears and she pulled herself out of her reverie. Milind was introducing her to someone, an English author who frequented India a lot.

Milind introduced him to her.

“So how come you are in France”, he asked conversationally. Neeta was jolted into reality. What was she doing in France? Maybe not knowing French was a bliss, Neeta did not have to answer any questions. She did not know what to say, Milind answered quickly, “She is with me”.

Once the Englishman left, Neeta approached him, she wanted to go home.

Milind could not leave as it was his official party, he hesitated just for a split second. Neeta got the hint, she smiled and said she will be fine going alone. He protested, she insisted, and he promised he will follow her back home as soon as he could.

She walked part of the way and took the Metro rest of the way. Paris was breathtaking but lifeless, like a diamond ruby necklace glittering under artificial lights. In one of the showrooms, Neeta looked at her reflection and she saw a thin woman wearing a fashionable red dress, her hair let loose, dyed red on its fringes, nude lipstick with glittering eye makeup. She could barely recognize it was her.

Who was this woman all alone on a deserted street? A woman is not looking over her shoulder to check every single minute if her children were ok. A woman not clad in an ethnic sadee and gold jewellery.

She realized she had made the same mistake again, took on someone else life as her own. She had no plans to marry Milind and roam the world with him, her world and her heart belonged somewhere else.

The next morning, she packed her bags to go. She told Milind she needed to return to India, so that she could see her children more often. They did not talk to her much during the numerous telephone calls and it pained her incredibly to be cut off like that. Circumstances were what circumstances were and she had to make the best use of it. She would always be incredibly grateful of whatever he had done for her.

Milind listened to her treating him as an outsider once again. It hurt him badly. He had never taken care of another human being like this before. Not even his own folks. The commitment to his first relationship was a joke compared to what all he had done now. He had not gone halfway to achieve what he wanted. And he was still not done.

“I will come with you”, he told her getting up. “That is if you want me to come”

The trouble with non-legal relationships is such that you must constantly ask for permission.

“You don’t want to come to India, you hate it there,” Neeta replied.

He did not reply.

Lord, this man must love her. Neeta moaned inwardly. But she did not want extra baggage. She wanted to see her children and she could not do that with another man around. Aditya would never allow it. He would never let Anjali and Rohit visit her if she lived with Milind. She was even scared to ask.

That month, she left alone for India.

[pastispresent]

Chapter 12

Aditya was shocked; his near perfect daughter was summoned to the Principal’s office. How could this have happened?

She with a couple of other girls were being threatened with termination. They had been caught corresponding with some older boys outside the school. The principal was not going to tolerate such rubbish in his school.

Aditya cajoled and pleaded with the school authorities. Then shamelessly he pulled out his trump card; his wife had left him, and Anjali was under immense stress. She was handed over a week’s suspension with a strict warning. The father and daughter drove around the city in silence. He did not ask her what she was doing and why she was doing it.

He told her the truth. Your mother and he have separated due to differences they could not resolve, and he was sorry.

Anjali looked out of the window. This was nothing she had not already guessed. Besides she had expected scolding and anger.

“I will need to deactivate your Facebook and twitter account”, he added firmly.

“You are not taking away my Facebook, this is crazy. I told you I was not even involved. Rashmi my friend was, and I got dragged along with her”.

“You are too young to have it anyway. Don’t make me take away your laptop too, Anju” Aditya reasoned with her.

“Ok fine take it if you think it is going to stop me”

Aditya sighed she did not even try to deceive him.

“You need to focus on your studies”, Aditya pressed on her. Silence again.

Aditya realized It was not going to be easy to convince her.

Rohit was another cause of worry for him. Something that did not stare at his face, but he thought it was much deeper and needed more attention than Anjali. He had been too harsh with him and it had sort of become a habit after Neeta went to the USA. The devil may care boy had withdrawn into a shell. It was an invisible shell. Something that was so imperceptible that if you did not look properly, you may miss seeing it completely. He still played for hours wildly down in the colony with the other boys. He was polite and did not back answer when Aditya scolded him. But he did not listen. Aditya was sure he did not listen. He would do exactly as he pleased. He was stubborn to the fault, and completely independent. If he was hungry he would help himself in the kitchen. If Aditya did not lay out his clothes on the bed, he would take it from the cupboard himself. He would not snuggle up to his grandma and grandpa like Anjali would and talk school or friends. He would be on his own. As is the nurturing, softness inside him had gone away with Neeta as well. Both the children were going out of hand. And it was of no priority anymore where they lived or where they study. Their souls were being destroyed, and he could not do this to them.

That night Aditya picked up the phone to call Neeta.

Neeta had chosen to settle in Delhi for some time. She was not sure how Aditya would handle her coming to Bangalore; she simply waited for an opportune time to contact him, when he called. He calmly explained the situation to her and told he wanted help. She asked him to send Anjali to her for the week. She will try to get through to her.

He thanked her and then he added quietly. “How have you been doing.” Neeta sucked in her breath, did she dare ask?

“I am good, really good. You can send Rohit too, I am sure they will be better off together, since summer vacations are coming up it won’t do them much harm to stay here.”

He agreed. Then she asked him, “How you have been doing”

“I am having a crush on the twenty-year-old junior in my office. I think I am going to flirt with her”.

Neeta almost dropped her keyboard on the ground. It took a moment for her to realize he was joking and she burst out laughing.

It was hot and humid in Delhi. The Yamuna was nothing but a stream of foul-smelling water, and smog rolled up in the air permeating the atmosphere. There was dust everywhere. The notorious Delhi weather ensured not many pedestrians could be seen during the day. But during the evenings when it was cool, and the heat had gone down a notch lower. Neeta would walk on the footpaths in South Delhi tree laden avenues. Delhi was ruthless and brutal, crowded as hell but still it had history, good roads, and some beautiful buildings.

Neeta waited impatiently for Anjali and Rohit to arrive. She shuffled from one foot to another, anxious to get their first look. When they appeared at the gates, she broke into tears which she was unable to hide.

The children were embarrassed. There was no previous joy in their heart when they had come to USA to meet her. That separation was a holiday, this seemed like a punishment. There were no protestations of love, hugs, and kisses. They had been through a lot since then. They have seen their father break down in tears at different times, an unnatural and dreadful silence that hung at home in the evenings.

The silence that seem to permeate even this meeting.

Neeta tried to be jovial as possible. Her cheerfulness appeared fake even to her.

“I have planned the whole week”, she told them happily. We will first make a tour of Delhi and then spend two days in Agra visiting the Taj Mahal, what do you guys think?

“Why did not papa come”, Rohit asked. Neeta told him something about him being busy.

“It is a lie, Rohit, he is never going to come. We are not going to see them together.”, Anjali blurted out maliciously.

Rohit was quiet. Neeta was sure she was supposed to say something, but she did not know what.

“It is not a lie Anjali, we live apart, but we are still together. In the next visit I will ask your Papa to come too if you want”, Neeta told her. “Why do you have to live apart”, Rohit questioned further. “I would like you to live together as before”.

“We have different stuff to do”, Neeta tried to be ambiguous about it, “I missed you guys, I really did. And I want to be together with you as much as possible, please let us try to have fun now and whatever time we have together. I will try to spend more time with you, I promise. Meanwhile, we just must live with this arrangement. You can always contact me on call and on Facebook, on WhatsApp. Anything.”

“It is not enough” Anjali declared.

Neeta knew it was not enough. She was living her worst nightmare. She tried pampering to all their whims and fancies. It worked somewhat. With the cunning known only to children, they guessed their mother was a little guilty and ready to give in to any tantrum just to please them. So, they used her, Neeta could see right through their maneuvers, but this visit was not about disciplining. It was about love and affection. Aditya’s purpose would not be served, or he may find them a little more difficult afterward, but she did not care.

Neeta took them to so many places, tried to give them so much fun that their resistance started melting. Anjali and Rohit were too busy visiting all the landmarks to have any serious discussion with their mother. She promised to come down to Bangalore eventually. She pampered them, indulged them. Questioned and prodded about their school, their friends even when met with sullenness. She did not know if what she did was right or wrong, she was there for them. And that is all that mattered.

Anjali was desperate too. Her reputation among the teachers was in tatters. Her old friends were themselves facing suspension some over a month. And none of the parents of other girls would let her hang with them. Her internet connection was taken away and time on the computer was strictly monitored by her grandfather who had forgotten his ailments for a while. Her father had found a female driver for her of all the things who accompanied her everywhere. She pleaded with her mother to talk to her Daddy to let her go off easily. Suddenly mother was the savior. Neeta promised to talk to Aditya on her next trip.

Aditya was not entirely kidding when he told his wife about his junior in office. Hell, she even reported to him two positions down the ladder. An ambitious young woman who was in her late twenties. She was a Mumbaikar and a big hit among all the guys married or single in office. She smoked outside during lunch with male colleagues, drank in office parties and flirted brazenly. From his glass cubicle, he could see at least 2-3 men idling near her chair at any time of the day. She was an absolute motor mouth. Her performance was exemplary though, and she was an efficient and smart worker which is all that Aditya cared for.

One day during lunch while he stood outside just stretching his legs, she came forward and offered him a cigarette and strike up a conversation. Her eyes danced around him, and she bantered with him in a way that made him feel nervous and excited. Maybe all men around her felt the same. Maybe it was the lure of his authority. Maybe he was just lonely. In the eyes of his friends, acquaintances and colleagues he was still a married man, whose wife lived apart. It was not an extraordinary situation. Many families in the IT company stayed apart due to job constraints. But the sanctity of marriage in Indian families was never questioned.

During an office party, Mohini had a drink too many and she requested some of her peers to drop her home instead of driving herself. Aditya to his surprise offered before anyone else could. She accepted. He could see through the corner of his eyes, his office workers sharing a snide glance amongst themselves.

Mohini turned to him in the car, her speech a little slurred. Winds fluttering her hair, eyes a little intoxicated, the perfect Bangalore weather adding just the right element of the romantic ambiance.

“Is your wife still abroad, Sir”. It was the lie Aditya had concocted to keep away unnecessary questions.

“You can call me Aditya. No, she currently resides in Delhi” he had not told anyone that.

“Oh Aditya”, she rolled his name on her tongue, “that must be so hard, to handle the kids yourself. “

“My parents live with me”, Aditya settled behind the wheel of the car deep into his seat, relaxing his shoulders, his body stretched against the car.

“That’s nice”, she paused “I do not mean to pry, but why cannot she get a job here, so much the better for you guys, do you not think so”

Of course, she meant to pry. Aditya could just shrug, and now answer.

Instead he told her,” Actually we are separated” and cursed himself for it.

The whole office will know of this by the next morning. What was he thinking?

“Oh, I am so sorry”, she exclaimed but she did not sound very sorry,

But to her credit she did not probe further. Aditya asked her about her family and she answered simply. She had been raised in the most cosmopolitan city in India, was exposed to a modernity not commonly seen in other Indians and maybe understood.

Aditya found out in a few days by carefully studying the reactions and faces of those around him that his secret was still a secret. She had not turned it into office gossip. Good girl. He wondered idly if he could go anywhere with her. Frankly he would be a frustrated middle-aged man if he made any moves. She will have to make one.

She did soon enough. Mohini considered herself crazy but there was something intoxication about attraction to a mature successful man. Maybe it was the lure of his authority. She was bored of the boys she usually met in her age group. She thought a little fling in this boring city would not harm her. She was still young enough to not take things seriously. She actively started pursuing him.

Next time when Neeta pinged him about the children’s next visit. He broached the topic to her. There was no one else he could talk to. He was still married in the eyes of the world chatting was so impersonal.

“A girl in office keeps asking me out, lunch, coffee even dinner. What should I do”

Oh God, he was serious. A sharp pang of bitterness, sadness, envy, guilt plunged her heart at the same time. She felt overwhelmed and confused by the barrage of feeling she felt. A small voice spoke inside. It has not been even six months since you left.

She tried not to ask about the girl

“Oh God, listen to you, you are such a dude. If you like her do go out”.

“I do not want to make an office scandal. She reports to me.”

“Then tell here you cannot go out with her since you are her boss. “

“What if she is just engaging in harmless flirting, then I will sound like an asshole. How do I trust her?”

Neeta winced at the word trust.

“Good question. Let me think about it and get back to you”

“Ok”

“Ok, bye”, he wanted to ask her, where was he? ‘The man’. He had gleaned from kids’ that she lived alone. But he did not question her. It was no longer his business. He still hated her, he had no desire to get back with her or even see her.

[বাউন্ডুলে]

Is it a Incomplete story ?? plz post the next parts...