Chapter-3
Why was she crying?
On most faces, this question should bring upon a smirk of ridicule. After all, why would a woman cry after she had been caught cheating? Of course, to save her own skin and to prove to her husband that she felt sorry. Absolutely correct and justifiable for those who did not know Suhasini, but I knew her better.
Our daughter was two years old and Suhasini would stitch clothes for her. She was exceptionally versatile on the sewing machine and on one such evening she was at it while I was watching TV when I heard a faint cry of anguish. I rushed to her and found her sitting shamefaced. She had had a momentary loss of attention. The needle had pierced through her finger nail and the bone and was protruding from the other side. And she was embarrassed. But there was not a drop of tear. She would complain about so many things but never about her own discomforts, pain or even bare needs.
She never cried.
Now the tears were flowing. She wasn't sobbing or wailing or even contorting her face. Tears just flowed out of her open eyes and she made no efforts to stem it. I was afraid to look into her eyes for I did not know what her silent tearful eyes wished to say to me. I was not prepared to decipher anything.
As I looked towards her she tightened her grip on my back, her fingers clawing my shirt. I looked the other way, away from her in equal agony.
The extreme tiredness coupled with the bizarre happenings that I was subjected to was now lesser and I could think a little more rationally. But the thread was getting disrupted because I could not identify the starting point. And, how could I? I was thrust into the eye of a maelstrom making me the judge of a court that I was unfamiliar with.
My arms continued to get wet and I knew that they were not sweating.
Fortunately, sleep once again embraced me into its folds of fleeting relief. I slept fitfully till the first light of the dawn struck my eyes.
I looked at her. She too was sleeping, in a fetal position, her hands on her knees. Amidst sleep, she looked so vulnerable, so weak and so much in need of comfort. Or maybe she was feeling the chill of the daybreak. I got up and then on second thoughts placed the thin fleece blanket on her, being careful not to wake her up.
I went to the kitchen and prepared tea. This was something that Suhasini allowed me to do and actually indulged me. On an impulse, I put sufficient water for both of us. The tea was ready after ten minutes of infusion. The aroma was the same as before. It tasted as before. Had anything changed?
Logically, everything! Only I was unable to react appropriately. I had no SOP for such situations. I was strangely surprised at myself. I did not feel the anger that I was expected to feel. I failed to get justifiably enraged. I was like a large stone impervious to pain or insults.
Knowing me and my temper, this calmness was disconcerting but not distressing. And finally, I tried to figure out its reasons, sitting all alone and reviewing my life with Suhasini and sure it was a long one. In essence, we had stayed in each other's company for more time than we did with our respective parents and we knew each other better than they did. I thought about this long period of our togetherness, the big and the small little things that we did. And, all at once, the cobwebs of my mind cleared.
I knew why I was behaving such!
I had no more doubts.
I went back to the bedroom and lightly touched her. She opened her eyes and looked past me. I said, what I had said numerous times earlier, "Suhas, tea is ready".
She looked at me a bit confused and suddenly the overwhelming shame and embarrassment were roaring back in her eyes. I was not surprised at her reaction. I repeated, "Come. Tea is ready".
Suhasini nodded her head dumbly and tried to get up. Her long hair was all rustled and dishevelled. She looked kind of cute. I came out of the room allowing her to assimilate what I just said.
I waited in the living room.
After a few moments, she came in. We sat facing each other on the dining table and had our tea and biscuits that we had been doing for years now. Nothing changed. Except that Suhasini was quiet, her eyes barely left the cup and her body was still.
It was time for me to speak. After a little hesitation, I started speaking. Initially, my voice seemed alien to myself. Suhasini looked up and tried to say something. I raised my hands and said firmly, "Suhas! Let me speak and you please listen! What happens at the spur of a moment is never the complete truth. What happened yesterday was just a bad moment in our life and nothing else. For me, you are too precious, too important to be judged by a single incident or even multiple ones. For me, I alone know what you are and what you mean to me. So, stop thinking about what I think. I think nothing. It's a nightmare, that's all. The night is gone and a day has begun. Nothing's changed."
Suhasini sat stooped. For me, who has always seen her upright, her downcast eyes and that pathetic body language were more painful than her deeds. I was not even sure whether she had heard me at all?
Dismayed, I repeated myself, "Did you hear what I said? Forget it! Nothing's changed!"
She stood up, still looking down, muttered carelessly, "Nothing's changed?" And left the room.
I had thought that I could set things right but was I wrong? I sat silently, stumped.
My mind insisted that I keep trying. Somewhere, some sixth sense alerted me to quickly restore normalcy lest things go completely out of hand, forever. Explanations and displeasure could wait. They were not the priority. There would be time for that too.
I found her sitting on the edge of the bed, looking nowhere. I caressed her hair fondly. Not for a moment did I feel that some punishment was due. She kept sitting, emotionless, blank.
A living dead.
I thought it prudent to leave her to herself, to her own devices.
I retrieved the bag that I had so carefully hid in the store. Had I left it in the living room, the story would have been different. Indeed, an act of omission. There was a surprise gift for her, an iPad suggested and procured by our daughter Ranjana.
Nothing else to do, I emptied the bag and spent some time in the bathroom. I took a long bath.
I found a breakfast ready comprising of my favourite things. I ate in silence because it was becoming difficult for me to breach the wall of silence pervading the house.
The household work progressed like clockwork without a word being spoken. I tried a little more to break the ice.
I suggested tentatively, "Let's go for dinner tonight!"
She looked blankly at me and then said, "Where?"
I said enthusiastically, "Let's go to Mainland!"
I said that on purpose. Suhasini always opposed my interest in that restaurant saying that in addition to other flaws, it was too expensive and we usually went to someplace else. I wanted to evoke that response in her.
She looked up and said nothing.
I changed track and said, "Of course, it's too expensive for the fare that it doles out.
What do you suggest?"
She thought for some time and said without enthusiasm, "No, you like Mainland, let's go there."
