Udit and Jaya lay side by side – each on their own zone of the large king size bed.
A wedding buy from nearly five years ago, the bed had seen many happier, amorous times. The first fiery days of passionate lovemaking had slowly descended into a more sedate companionship and finally to the current state of aloof coexistence.
Both knew at the start of their relationship that ennui sets in over the course of time! That was the truth of every relation; and both had been aware of the pitfalls which come with the passage of time and had been determined at the time to do everything they could to avoid it.
But as so often happens with even the best laid plans, somewhere in the rat race of time – this one too had fallen apart. Even two people very much in love and determined to spend a lifetime together cannot always keep all their promises to each other.
And that's how it starts. Always.
One missed dinner.
One missed weekend getaway.
One forgotten anniversary.
One harried brushing kiss.
The small little things. Which at the end of it all add up to two people who maybe share the same house, the same room and even maybe the same bed – to keep up pretences – but lying next to each other, they wish they could smother the one next to them with a pillow.
Both of them were awake – desperately hoping for sleep maybe. Jaya lay on her side, staring at the large French doors next to her side of the bed. She could see outside – straight to the small backyard garden.
The garden!
It was Udit's heart and soul. She never even knew that her husband had any interest in gardening – let alone expect his complete absorption with the different orchids and cacti he had planted.
She hated it with a passion.
When one fine day Udit had come home early from office – carrying an armful of gardening books and tools – she had been bemused! She knew of boys and their toys! She always thought of gardening as a hobby for the elderly – she remembered the obsession her grandfather had with his own terrace garden – and the pride with which he had loved to show off his prized flowers!
But the sudden interest of her thirty-odd years old husband in gardening – and the tremendous zeal with which he attacked it – struck her! She had never seen him so utterly engaged in anything! Udit spent hours reading about different plants, their origins, their likes and dislikes, what should be the acidity of the soil, what percent loam should be mixed, what amount of sunlight – at which angle and for how long – he deeply scrutinised each and every aspect of his prized plants and followed them religiously.
Once or twice she had made fun of his obsession – standing at the edge of the deck while Udit toiled in the garden below – "What made you choose that particular cacti? It doesn't even look pretty!"
Udit had just glanced up at her in that condescending way she had come to hate – dismissive and arrogant at the same time – she turned away – the sudden unbidden tears of shame in her eyes – hot and moist.
Soon after her already distant husband seemed even more unapproachable. He was hardly ever home – and whenever he was – most of the time was spent with his precious cacti. Jaya sometimes wondered if he had a mistress – pretty sure that she would've preferred a live rival in the flesh rather than a potted plant as a competitor for her husbands' attention.
After that point, Jaya had had to give up. She needed a companion – and if her husband wasn't going to be it – she was going to find one on her own.
She had always had a flair for the dramatic arts, having acted in various plays throughout her school days. She had desperately wanted to study art and drama for college, but an overly confined household steepled with the unfulfilled dreams of her parents had forced her to go the traditional, stable route, followed by a teaching degree – and then of course – marriage!
The school she taught at was extremely competitive – known for sending more students to the top technical schools than any other in the state. The curriculum was intense and the focus of both the faculty and the student body was firmly on the prize – coveted seats in the top medical and technological schools. Nobody had time for anything else.
As a language faculty, Jaya's status wasn't really that far above that of the janitor – viewed by most as a necessary evil – she was barely tolerated by the students and sneered upon by most of the science staff.
When she brought up the idea of a drama club during one of the quarterly budget sessions, she could feel the unease around the room. Most of her colleagues stared at her in undisguised horror and contempt – as if she had proposed a heinous crime – something so unsuited among the dignified walls of their monument. However to the surprise and shock of not only Jaya but almost everyone, several of the influential trustees had seemed to like the idea of a drama club; unlike Jaya – they weren't really looking to imbue a bit of colour in the children's lives – it was simply about putting another extra-curricular activity to the already loaded application packages of their students – anything to reach business school!
She didn't even realize her seduction by Sumit was underway – till she felt pressed up against him, his lips brushing hers in the darkened, empty parking lot – one summer night after the end of long rehearsals.
Sumit – the communications instructor in the elite school came with the exact right set of pedigrees – fair, classically handsome, suave, well educated and well versed in both the romance languages as well as the cold calculations of the practical business. He had been one of the most enthusiastic collaborators for her drama club, actively recruiting students, suggesting plays to act, and very subtly guiding her on ways to portray the activity as a mandatory skill for students to ace undergraduate interviews – rather than how she thought of it – as pure childish fun!
The contrast between this gentle and thoughtful man and her boorish husband was inevitable in her mind – however unfair it may seem to the innocent bystander. While Sumit could inevitably discuss the subtle qualities, which leant that magical aura to the works of Chaucer, he was equally well-versed with the modern classics by say Vonnegut or Fitzgerald.
Soon they started spending a few extra minutes after rehearsals – to discuss the next steps, the selections for the main roles, how to set up the stage, the budget for the costumes and what not. Jaya didn't even realize when a few minutes stretched to thirty accompanied by an initial gentle squeeze of the hand.
When she felt Sumit's lips on hers, she hesitated for only a second – the image of her husband's condescending smile filled her head – she responded back. A tentative peck, a gentle flick of her tongue – the sweet taste of his lips – so different from the rough, coarse demands from Udit.
They hadn't gone further in the parking lot; Jaya giddy as a teenager had still pushed Sumit away.
She had been wracked with guilt on her way back home – certain one look from Udit will tell him all that he needed to know. Instead his cold indifference and callous uncaring attitude had emboldened her.
Soon, gentle touches during the day became the norm for her and Sumit. A quickly stolen kiss here and there, holding each other's hands while they could – it was as if Jaya was finally having the teenaged high school romance she had always wanted.
As the drama club progressed – so had her romance with Sumit. Frequent stolen kisses during the day had morphed into long afternoons of passionate lovemaking for the amorous couple. Jaya used to be terrified that Udit will find out – and when he did – she had no idea what to do or say. Sumit had calmed her – if someone had a wife as attractive as her – and ignored her completely – he must be involved with someone on the side as well.
Jaya used to be scared stiff the first few times – even after showering at Sumit's bachelor apartment and making sure to carefully conceal any signs of their lovemaking, she still used to worry about Udit finding out.
But of course, he never did. If anything, he seemed to be more distant in the recent past. More uncaring. More dispassionate.
Their lovemaking, never frequent had completely dried up. Perhaps it was a duty for him – which he no more felt obligated to perform.
