Thursday, June 16, 2005

chapter 2

Replying to my emails, my mind is still in the kitchen, planning your lunch. Your habit of living near your workplace has never left you and the great part is that you can pop home for lunch, or occasionally, even coffee, anytime!

I head to the kitchen and place potatoes to boil. As they boil, I tidy up and clean the house. Memories of my stubborn youth come flooding back and I remember many conversations we had where I vehemently declared never to clean the house! I love cleaning your house; I love doing everything for you. I’m more than your wife; I’m your other half, your life.

Feeling rather sweaty now, I ignore the beep of my computer and rush for another bath instead. It’s almost 11, you’ll be home soon, other than you, and everything else can wait! Dressing in a prettier sari now that the housework is done, I place a flower in my hair and set about preparing the rest of the meal and setting the table, with everything done and the food heating, I sit down to answer my emails. I hear the click of the door and hear you come in; I rush to the hall and kiss you.

“I missed you, I know it’s only 4.5 hours, but I still missed you!”

You laugh and kiss me back, unbuttoning your shirt as you settle at the table, smiling at you, I feel the same excitement in me as I have, every single time I have seen you, right from the beginning.

Putting rice and some dishes on a thali, I again feed you, and just as you reach for the plate, I laugh and eat too, alternating mouthfuls between you and me. This is what I have always longed for, a life of laughter and fun, hugs and kisses, being utterly comfortable with someone – you.

As you finish your last mouthful, I rinse my hands and bring you sweetened lemon juice to freshen your mouth. As we move to the sofa, arm in arm, we discuss our respective days so far. I’m so thankful that you were the one to get me involved in my own writing and never once deride me for not having a ‘proper’ day job. I’m so grateful that you empathise with the work I do as well as the other little chores that you never fail to appreciate.

“Babul, jo tumne sikhaya, jo tumse payaa, Sajan ghar le chali. Sajan ghar mai chali… Kaise bhool paaungi mai Baba, sune jo tumse kahaaniya, chor chali aangan me maiya, bachpan ki nishaaniya. Ban gaya pardes, ghar janam ka, mili hai dunia, mujhe nayee. Naam jo piya se maine jora, naye rishton se bandh gayee. Mere Sasur Ji Pitah hain, Pati devta hai, Devar chavi Krishna ki.”
Finishing the dedication of my new book, I thank God that my life turned out the way it did. Things were never easy, nor will the road ahead be lined with roses; but the knowledge that being with you does not hurt anyone and I am doing exactly what my parents always wanted me to do, is sufficient to carry me through any hardship life may bring.
Sitting at my laptop, as I send the dedication to my editor, I stop a minute and look at our wedding photo on my desktop; the thought that possibly, you too are looking at the same photo fills my soul with warmth.

I remember my Bidai, it’s been almost 2 years with you, yet, I can remember so clearly, every moment of our wedding. Both sets of parents had ultimately deigned to attend, and your mother had even bought me a Bidai sari. It was the fact that the sari was pink that made me sure that life was going to be good with you. It was the final sign I needed. Bidai was definitely the saddest moment for my family and me too. We were all aware that as I walked away, I was walking into a new life leaving my family and relations behind, to join yours and adopt your family as my own. I left with tears of joy and sadness but knowing that I carried only the very best wishes from all who were there made me sure that the future would only bring us all joy!

I was so quiet in the car; the ceremony had meant so much to me, as I know it did to you. We had come so far together; the future seemed endless and beautiful. I clutched your hand as I thought about all the vows we had made.

My Papa doing the kanyadaan was to me, the most touching part of the ceremony. As he washed your feet, and ritually bestowed the worldly goods of Vishnu on you, I knew that in his heart he was praying with everything he had in him that I had made the right choice. To both my parents, the Kanyadaan was very emotional whereby both of them gave the responsibility of their daughter to you; this signified not only their blessing of this union but also their approval. I was so glad I was not there to witness that, my tears would not have stopped, as it is, looking at your damp eyes in the mandap made me sure that you too loved my Papa as I did and appreciated his actions.

During the Hasta Mallap, the priest was chanting away, but all I noticed was the strength of your hand as mine was placed on yours. I could honestly feel the union of our hearts forever as we held hands in that moment. As we promised with God and all guests as witnesses, to remain devoted to each other and to treat each other with love, respect, sympathy and compassion, I couldn’t help but tear.

The priest then looped white raw cotton round twenty four times, and put it around our shoulders. Symbolising the different characteristics and virtues of human life, these threads of cotton bound us together forever from now on. They were a vow to each other, to fulfil each of our roles fully and honestly.

After the Agni Poojan, as we stepped on the stone together, we looked at each other, and I knew that we would always look and walk in the same direction, with the same goals.

Although we had been ‘dating’ for so long, and everyone saw us as nearly married, ourselves included, we both knew that these rituals were needed to bind us ever closer, in the eyes of the world, as well as God. The Mangal Fere would symbolically solidify our marriage and make us husband and wife. The four rounds represented Dharma and a life of righteousness, Artha and a life of prosperity, Kama and a happy family and Moksha, a life dedicated to God. As the cloth that was tied to my pallu was put over your shoulder, I knew you would always take care of me. As Vikram filled our hands with rice and grains, denoting a bounty of wealth, good health, prosperity and happiness, I could sense that even my little brother wa praying that we would have all that and more in our life. Together, we offered these to the Agni and seeked blessings.
You smiled at me and slowly led me around the Agni three times, as we both vowed to follow each other anywhere – in happiness or in times of hardship and shall always serve you. On the final round it was my turn to lead you, signifying that in old age, when it is time to depart, all I wanted from God to take me before he touched you.

Following that, we took the Saptapadi. Christian vows always sound so touching, but it was not till our wedding day that I truly realised how much sweeter our vows were. We looked at each other (shameless me, I should have been looking down), as we took a step with each vow. Vowing to live with honour and respect and to provide our household with nourishment; to be happy and enjoy life, to develop mental, spiritual and physical peace and progress; to share joys and pains together and to increase wealth and prosperity for righteous use; to remember our parents and elders, to acquire knowledge, happiness and harmony through mutual love, trust and respect; to observe acts of charity and be blessed with healthy, strong and courageous children; to develop self-restraint and be true partners, with love and sacrifice and to remain life-long partners in wedlock and friendship.

I was still lost in the significance of all that I had just promised you when I felt you placing the sindoor in my maang and clasping the mangalsutra round my neck. Someone placed kheer in my hands and smiling at you, with tears in my eyes, I raised the spoon to your lips and vowed to bind your heart with the thread of truth, sincerity and love, so my heart will be yours and your heart will be mine forever.

I wiped away my tears and smiled at your photo, thoughts of you are always just beneath the surface, it is so simple to get lost in you.

chapter 1

You’ll be asleep, but I open my eyes and slide out of your embrace, feeling
you turn over; I kiss your forehead gently and sit up in bed. I graze my hand over your feet and touch it to my heart and head. I’ve been blessed.

I step into the bathroom and look at my reflection, maybe my skin is not as taut and there are fine lines at the edge of my eyes. Yet, my eyes capture my heart, I see you in them. I see a complexion that glows despite the early hour, I see a woman who is content. There is no beauty that can surpass that. The beauty that comes from loving you. I run my fingers through my hair and see the first white strand, I laugh to myself, thinking of the jokes you can finally make, the same ones I have been teasing you with the last 3 years.

I step under the shower and the thought that you’re in the next room infuses me with happiness. I inhale the scent of vanilla shower cream and I can imagine your fingers on me. It’s gone beyond minutes, hours, days, weeks and months. Its gone into years, and its still you, only you, always you. After years, I still think of you every moment, every beat of my heart, I dedicate to you.

I step back into the room to dress and as I pleat my sari I see you looking at me, I giggle and fling my blouse at you, “stop peeping”! You grin sleepily at me and doze off… I can’t help remembering the first time we went out with me in a sari, for a Hindi movie, of all things! As I brush my hair I can smell your cologne in the room, a fragrance I’ve always loved. I tuck the end of my sari tightly into the gathers around my hip and again, your thought pops into my mind, as I see you looking at me, in my minds’ eye. I see you admiring my waist… kissing my navel and waiting for the day when you kiss my navel and kiss two people.

I switch on dim lights and open curtains as I walk to the kitchen to prepare the prayer items. As I go around the cosy little room we designed, I recite the ‘Hanuman Chalisa’ along with prayers for your well-being. Finally, covering my head I walk into the prayer room and settle down for an hour’s peace. ‘Tis no one but you who occupies my mind and prayers. Since I got to know you I have dedicated prayers to you and for you. Getting to spend my life with you is not a prayer come true, it’s a dream so huge, that I never dared dream it!

As I hear the clock strike a quarter past 7, I wrap up my thanksgiving and raise the offerings to my head. Wandering back to my cosy peach-coloured kitchen, I put the tea to boil and wonder if you have discovered that I serve you tea not made in water but in milk. Pouring the tea into a pretty cup, I inhale the sweet scent and remind myself to brush my hair again. I place the tea next to you and gently awaken you while smoothing back my hair.

“Good morning Ji… Chai aa gaya”;

I smile as you stretch and place your head on my lap. Stroking your hair, I coax you out of bed and hug you from the back as you sip your tea. As you head to the shower, I set about laying out your (pre-ironed) clothes. Heading back to my favourite nook – the kitchen, I get your breakfast done, Indian style. Aloo parathas and chutney, with dahi if you’re in the mood, of course, your steaming hot milk is already waiting. As you come into the kitchen in search of me, I button your shirt for you and push you into the chair, popping a sweetmeat I had offered earlier in my prayers, into your mouth. Planting your milk in front of you, I ask if you’ve finished the tea. Breaking off some of the paratha, I place it in your mouth. This sweet habit was borne out of necessity, as neither of us liked you going to work with masala-scented hands or a stained shirt. Halfway through the meal you begin protesting, so resorting to old tricks, I cajole you into a mouthful for mother, father, sister, brother and finally, laughingly, for myself.

As you stand to wash up, I wait next to you with a towel in my hands. Walking with you to the door, I pick up my prayer tray and place a vermilion spot on your forehead, I wait as you fill the parting of my hair with the fragrant vermilion and kiss my cheek as you leave for the day.

I bend to touch your feet once more and knot your laces. I wave at your departing back once more, then, smiling to myself, I close the door and lean back against it, just thinking of you and still feeling your presence in the little house. Shaking my head, I begin to clear up in the kitchen and place the dry dishes back in the cupboards. Hearing my laptop beep, I head to my study, fully prepared to battle with my editor. God bless you for sending my work to a publisher! Although every cut my editor makes hurts me, I’m so grateful that I can work from home and be around for you all day.