Inconvenient Relations (5 page)

Truce

“D
amnit!”

Shaan paced the hallway.

“Where could she have gone at this hour, or did she leave way before? Ruhi is new to the neighborhood. What if she gets lost?” He stopped midstride. “How will she call for help? She doesn’t even have a cell phone. Gosh!” He slapped a fist against the wall. “Me and my stupidity! How can anybody survive in a place like this without a phone or money?”

He glanced at the kitchen counter where he was used to dumping his keys and pocket change… Everything looked as is, undisturbed.

Did she go to Sujoy’s? She possibly could have, but so early in the morning? No, he didn’t think so. Somehow he didn’t believe she would have taken that route. She was someone who liked to keep things to herself until the situation went overboard like it had with him. He guessed Des’s phone call had broken the camel’s back and, of course, his insensitive addendum.

In the least, I should make sure she’s not in the vicinity. She could be sitting on the stairs or even somewhere on the grounds crying. He didn’t think she would have ventured far.

Slipping on his sandals, he rushed out in his pjs. It was a cold September morning, fall was in the air, chilling him to the bone, goose bumps puckered up all over his skin. But what about her? She had only a thin silk sari on that he could recall, the maroon one—the one he liked. Had she worn it especially for him?

“Damn! How uncaring can I get?”

He wandered around the well-worn paths in a state of anxious agitation, scouring the park benches, the cobblestone plaza around the fountain which graced the entryway to the apartments, and the pavement which circled the complex before heading out to one of the busy roads. He didn’t see anybody around who even vaguely resembled a sad and lonely girl in a maroon sari.

Overcome by a severe malaise, he leaned against an old sycamore tree when he heard the unmistakable sound of a young pup tugging on a leash; it’s plaintive yelps followed by those of a young girl struggling to control it.

“Oops sorry! Pepper is still learning.”

Shaan smiled as the tiny Westie frolicked at his feet while sniffing at his sandals. “It’s fine, she looks harmless. By the way, have you seen a girl maybe this tall” —indicating a level slightly above his shoulder— “in a maroon umm…wraparound dress anywhere?”

“You mean a sari?”

“Yes, a sari.”

“Oh… Is she the pretty Indian lady who stands at the window sometimes and waves at me?” she asked, pointing toward the window of Ruhi’s bedroom, beneath which they stood.

“Yes, she’s the one. Have you seen her today?”

“No…sorry.” Shrugging her shoulders, she turned to walk away.

“Darn!”

“Is she your wife?” The girl stopped, looking over her shoulder.

“Ye…yes, she is.”

“She has sad eyes just like Mom does sometimes. Hope you find her quickly.”

“Thanks, I hope so too.”

She has sad eyes…

Why wouldn’t she, as the unlucky victim of his misguided frustrations. He could have at least treated her like a human being.

Heading back, he scoured the apartment carefully looking for clues; something, anything that would indicate her intentions. He turned her bedroom upside down but couldn’t find any notes, suicide or otherwise. She wouldn’t take such an extreme step. She would behave rationally, he thought.

Sitting on the bed, he pulled open the drawers of the nightstand and found what appeared to be a diary closed tight with a clasp. He took it out and wavered slightly before opening it, feeling like a Peeping Tom invading someone’s most private sanctum without permission, but it might offer a clue. The pages were numbered and dated, the words penned in a neat cursive script.

She didn’t write every day, rather jotted down her thoughts at random. There were some entries from the year before…

I don’t like Satish at all! He speaks very nice, but the way he looks at me—I feel unclean. I hope he comes under a truck someday!

Shaan smiled, she wrote with emotion! Then another entry a few days later.

Dad is such a sweetheart. He said he’d never force me to get married. I will always stay with him and Mama forever and ever.

Then two months ago:

There was that stupid
punditji
again at our house asking to see if Dad was willing to consider a proposal from some Ahujas for their youngest son who lives abroad. Idiots! Don’t they know Dad has no intention of sending me away?

Shaan didn’t want to read any further, but his curiosity got the better of him.

Dad said we could pretend to show some interest in the match because the boy’s father is his close friend, and it would be rude to refuse without even considering. Anyways, the final decision is mine.

I saw his picture and said yes.

Shaan snapped the book shut, he couldn’t read anymore; she had accepted him as her husband, and he had broken her heart. “How I hate myself!”

He searched the bed and chanced upon the well-worn copy of
Shri Hanuman Chalisa
. She slept with it under her pillow. He remembered her reciting it in the airplane while keeping her eyes tight shut. She wouldn’t have gone too far without it, of that he was certain.

Somewhat reassured, he took a quick shower then went into the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee. Ganesha was sitting in his corner looking rather lonely without his light. Shaan topped the oil in the lamp and lit it.

Nearly four hours had passed since she’d left. What if she didn’t come back? He would have to call her Dad, but what would he tell him? That his son-in-law couldn’t take care of his wife?

Where else could he look for her?

“Perhaps I should call Sooj. But he will pelt me with questions I will have no proper answers for.” Running trembling fingers through his scalp, he swore, “Damn me and my runaway tongue!”

He chose to go to work for some time.

But he didn’t make it. Instead, he stopped at his regular coffee shop and sat for a long time staring at the blank computer screen with the untouched brew growing cold on the side.

What if she wants to bolt? She can’t. She has no moolah for a train or bus ticket.

What if she jumps off a bridge? But the nearest one is at least twenty miles away, and she doesn’t look like the jumping kind.

What if she is lying helpless somewhere, tied up, kidnapped, assaulted, raped, or even murdered!

Ruhi Sharma dies a painful death because her husband abused and then abandoned her!

Shaan could see the headlines in big black bold letters with a picture of him in handcuffs being led to the courthouse underneath.

“I guess I would deserve it!”

Determined to call Sujoy and then the police, he hurried back to the apartment and slammed the door open.

“Is that you, Shaan?”

“Ruhi!”

Rushing in, he found her standing behind the kitchen counter smiling, holding a spatula in her hand. It was dripping red sauce.

Nearly collapsing with relief, he said, “Where… Where did you go?”

“I went for a walk. A very long one. It was good! You should take one, too, some time.” She sounded flippant.

He grew furious. She had put him through so much.

“Why the hell…?” He paused, counting to five. “Why didn’t you care to inform me before leaving?”

Putting the spatula down, she calmly turned off the stove.

“Given the mental state I was in, instead of telling you, I’d have probably preferred to kill you. Consider yourself lucky.”

He gaped at her astounded while she threw her head back and laughed.

“Are you all right? Maybe you should sit down.”

“Of course I am fine. Very much so and I’d rather stand, thank you.” She grinned at him as she stood there with hands on her hips. Wearing a dark green and pink V-necked cotton top over blue jeans, her hair casually caught up in a ponytail, she looked lovely and innocent like a child and very much changed. It felt as though he was in the presence of Ruhi’s twin.

“I…I’m sorry. No, not sorry, I mean… I want to apologize for last night. I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

“No, don’t apologize! You said the truth. I have no right to poke around in your personal affairs.”

“You have every right to do so.”

“Why? Because I am your official wife, bound to you by a loveless marriage that’s going to end in the space of another month anyway? Your relationship with this Des (it was obvious she didn’t like her much) has lasted much longer, and you value it a lot more than you do us.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Well, mister, hurt me you did! That much is true. I was naïve enough to believe that by adopting the role of an ideal Indian wife who waits on her husband hand and foot, I could win you over.” She laughed again, wryly this time. “What an idiot you must have taken me to be.”

“Ruhi, please… Don’t demean yourself. I do appreciate what you’ve done for me so far.”

“Yes, you
appreciate
it. What a nice way of saying ‘thanks for your help, you can go now’.”

“I didn’t mean that, you’ve got it all wrong.” He hurried to correct her.

Looking directly at him, she said, “It’s okay, Shaan. I don’t feel anything anymore. I have reconciled myself to our situation. I’d have left last night, but I feared my father wouldn’t be able to handle the shock, so I’ve decided to stay a little longer in order to break it to him gently.”

She pointed to her bare neck and forehead. “I also felt wearing these any longer is ridiculous, so I took them off. Hope you understand.”

He nodded, but was surprised by a considerable twinge of disappointment.

“I’ve been thinking a lot but have been unable to arrive at a reasonable solution. I’m frustrated, Shaan. What is the best path we can take, which will also be the least traumatic to our loved ones?” she asked, looking at him with all seriousness.

“Uh…”

“Also, I know it isn’t proper for me to live here with you anymore, but then where do I go? I’d love to work, and I’m well qualified. Do you think I can get a decent job?”

“I’m not sure. It’ll probably be difficult to get anything quick, and you don’t even possess a work visa. You don’t have to go anywhere…” He sensed a feeling of agitation.

“Oh, yes, you’re right. Anyways, who will hire me for just a month?” She began pacing the floor thinking aloud, “I could approach a woman’s shelter. No,” rejecting the notion with a decisive wave of her hand. “I don’t want to get you into any kind of trouble!”

Then she sighed, shrugging her shoulders in resignation. “The only option left would be to stay here if you don’t mind, that is.”

“Of course. You can stay here for as long as you wish!”

“Another month, that’s all. I promise not to interfere in your life in any way. I’ll soon start dropping hints to my parents that we aren’t happy together. It’d be nice if you could contribute too, will make it a lot easier to persuade them.”

“This is going way too fast. We should give it some more time perhaps.” He couldn’t believe his words.

“No, we are done. I am done! I want to leave at the end of the month, or before if it works out, and I want to be free to do as I please.”

“What do you mean? Aren’t you free now?”

Her dark eyes were filled with singular resolve. “I meant free to go where I want and do what I please, no questions asked. Don’t worry, I’m not into smoking, alcohol, or drugs nor am I interested in having boyfriends.” She smiled. “I don’t intend to cause you any more pain than I already have.”

He was dumbstruck; she had thought out everything very well. It was hard not to admire her gutsiness. A lesser person would have broken down completely.

She stepped up to him. “If it’s not too much to ask, can we spend the remaining time in a civilized manner by calling a truce? I will give it my best. You are after all a nice guy. Could we just be friends? Friends without benefits?”

Adjustments

“F
riends?” she repeated, smiling, extending her hand.

“Yes, friends.” He shook it. Though her skin was soft, her grip was firm and confident, which spoke a lot about where she was right now.

Might as well be friends
and start anew. Anyway, he had ruined their prior relationship in its fledgling stage. He could not guess where this one would lead to, but there was an undercurrent of excitement in it. Attempting to establish a friendship with his own wife who didn’t want to be his wife anymore. If it came out into the open, he would become the butt of jokes.

“Friendship with your wife, for what purpose? Consult a head doctor or check yourself into an asylum!”

But he was willing to give it a go. What did he have left to lose when he had lost almost everything?

“Pasta?”

“Hmm?”

“I said, care for some gourmet pasta?”

She stood in front of him holding a large bowl from which emerged a mouthwatering aroma, suddenly reminding him that he was desperately hungry.

Trying to control the urge a little longer, he said, “But I thought you disliked Italian.”

Ruhi grinned mischievously. “I meant American Italian. That pizza you got the other day was unfit for consumption, and I wanted to try something different for this new phase of my life. For a new me and perhaps a new you?”

Thrusting the steaming bowl under his nose, she said, “This is authentic Italian made in the classic Ruhi style with loads of love and less of grease. I stumbled upon the ingredients in the kitchen. Appears as though sometime in the past you had noble intentions of making it yourself, perhaps for someone special?”

Shaan recalled the day he had with great eagerness planned on treating Des to a homemade Italian dinner. He had waited and waited for her, but she had stood him up later, coming up with the excuse her husband had returned home from out of town earlier than usual. Overcome with annoyance, he had trashed all the food.

The following evening he had found out her husband was none other than his boss. The shock, anger, and disappointment had been so intense he’d gotten drunk and made a spectacle of himself. He had mocked his fellow colleagues, and Rich, who fortunately had taken no offence, or so he hoped. Finally, he had thrown up all over himself and passed out. It was an incident he dearly wished to forget.

“Hey! Where art thou, mister?”

He blinked as Ruhi waved a hand in front of his face.

“You look terribly miffed! Did I rekindle some bad old memories? I’m sorry. Here, eat this pasta, it’s sure to make you feel better.”

His mouth twisted into a dry smile. “Thanks.”

“Don’t say that. Remember we are friends now, and I have to figure out some way to pay my rent.”

“No you don’t. I am responsible for you as long as we are still married.”

“No! I am an independent woman who hates IOUs. As far as I’m concerned, I’m single now, and our marriage has become a painful memory, which I’d like to forget ASAP!”

With him being the prime cause behind all this bitterness, he lamented, “All right, I won’t talk about it again.”

“Good. Eat up. It’s getting cold.”

“Umm…delicious! Can I have some more please?”

“Of course you can!” She laughed and refilled his bowl.

“So I’m not bad at quick-fire Italian, am I?” she queried while sitting down with a bowl of her own.

“Not at all. You are a helluva cook. I’ve always believed so.”

“Hmm…at least it is one point in my favor. Great! Perhaps I can open a restaurant!” she declared with a bright smile.

“Yes, why not? Setting up a restaurant wouldn’t be hard, and your MBA will hold you in good stead too! I can do some research.”

“Naah!” she said, tapping her forehead with a dainty fist. “What am I thinking? I’m going to leave in a month. Maybe later if I decide to come back on my own. You’ll still help me then, won’t you?”

Why do you keep talking about leaving in a month’s time when I wouldn’t mind you staying at all. I might even like the company.
“Yes, you can count me in.”

They finished the rest of the meal in silence. For the first time Ruhi felt light and at peace since their marriage. There was nothing to struggle for or fight over anymore. Shaan was more human and approachable.

“You have spread pasta sauce all over your face, like a little kid!” he exclaimed, laughing, dabbing at her cheek and nose with a tissue. “Uh…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to,” he said, withdrawing in a hurry when he saw her looking uncomfortable.

“Accepted.” She said with a slight incline of her head before collecting the empty bowls.

“Mujhe madad karne do.”
(Let me help.)

For a few moments, she appeared startled, then smiled. He almost sighed with relief.

“Oh! Hindi?
Khoob bhalo!”
(Very good!)
“Nahin hum kar lenge!”
(No, I will take care of it.) “When I need help, I will ask. Thanks anyway.”

He turned on the TV. There was a football game on; Green Bay Packers were playing the Minnesota Vikings. “I should say good night now.”

Looking at her, he said, “No, stay. I mean, you are welcome to watch what you want.”

“You won’t miss your favorite game then?” Her eyebrows shot up.

“No, there’ll always be more games.”

Settling down on the sofa, she observed, “Isn’t it nice how rapidly things change when husbands and wives become friends? We become human.”

“I can’t apologize enough.”

“Don’t apologize, just realize!” She laughed. He gazed blankly at her.

“Let’s see, what’s on now? What do you recommend, dear friend?” Her huge eyes posed the question.

“Uhm… History, Discovery? They should have something interesting.”

“No, I want to watch a sitcom. I want to get familiar with popular American culture,” she declared, flipping the channels. “There we go!”

“Two and a Half Men?”

“Yes, it’s a popular show, isn’t it?”

“Yes…but…”

“But what?”

“It’s a little…risqué,” he said, looking embarrassed.

“Risqué? You mean inappropriate? Oh my god, Shaan, I’m shocked to hear it coming from you! I’m an adult and so are you. Besides, I heard it’s quite funny.”

“Who told you so?”

“Debo did. She and Sujoy watch it together all the time. It happens to be one of their favorites.”

“Do they? That’s amazing.” But of course, Sooj and Debo was a match made in heaven.

“Yes, Debo is really lucky. No offence to you, Shaan.”

“I was a bad choice for you, Ruhi. I have no excuse.”

“Forget it, Shaan. It’s all over! Finito! Chill, dude! Take it easy! Isn’t that what a friend would say?”

He laughed. “Perfect! You got it, babe!”

“Babe? Like the pig?”

“No, I meant…”
Crap!

“I don’t mind either way. Hmmm…interesting.”

He studied her curiously while she looked at the screen, pretending not to be aware that his eyes were on her. She colored, but continued to watch as the actors kissed. He had to admire her tenacity.

“You don’t have to watch if you don’t want to.”

“No, I do. I want to see how casual they are about…”

“Sex on TV?”

Her gaze held his. “I meant to say physical relationships. You are very blunt.”

“Well, I like to call an egg an egg.”

“Honesty is refreshing.”

“Whatever it is, casual or not, don’t you think it’s an important part of any intimate relationship?”

“There are many things more important and should come first, such as respect and integrity.”

Go ahead scream at me Ruhi! You don’t have to bottle it all up!

She opened her mouth to speak and then hesitated. He could see she was struggling to control herself; he didn’t want her to.

She turned back to the television. “So it’d seem quite routine to have extramarital affairs here, partners change in the blink of an eye. Sometimes they aren’t even aware of their names, like Charlie.”

Briefly, she closed her eyes as the scene progressed to the inevitable.

Ruhi, you don’t have to torture yourself.

“So how long does it last, five minutes? Ten?”

“Sometimes two, as in this case. Charlie happens to be drunk most of the time.”

Breaking into a nervous laugh, she remarked, “How funny. It sounds so prosaic, not serious at all. Tell me, is this how most Americans lead their lives?” Her eyes pinned him down.

Shaan didn’t flinch. “No, you’ll be surprised that a lot of them have regular functioning families. But what I admire most about this society is its openness. Back home, people play around behind closed doors and carry on like saints, so when the river breaks its banks, the destruction is immense, irrecoverable.”

Sensing that he was expressing something close to his heart, she waited, wanting to hear more; but he didn’t elaborate any further.

Disappointed, she got up. “I think I shall sleep now. Good night.”