THE WAIT

THE WAIT

“I was not ready!” Again, she will have to wait. For another day.



Sreemati heaved a sigh as the door clicked with its usual slowness. She turned both the keys. The flat was empty ,like her life. Tara was in Seychelles, seemingly basking in the glow of her new husband’s attention. Her purring call the night before invited everyone to take a dip into her ocean of bliss. Hemant had wanted to prolong the call, the umbilical cord between the father and daughter stretched tight. Sreemati had willed herself not to break down , but a strange sense of alienation had made her conversation matter of fact. She was amused to note that Hemant was pretty aggrieved about it , for throughout their twenty odd years’ married life, he has often remarked sardonically about her ability to ‘turn on the tap’ as he called it, at the slightest provocation.

She went out into the balcony, to wave the customary cheerful goodbye and the slightly awkward flying kiss. ‘The Sharmas are so very devoted’ all the neighbours noted indulgently .It was important to not break the routine, Hemant must not suspect anything. She would wait for the 11 o’clock phone call, ‘Do you need the car?’ Hemant would have forgotten that her leave from the university was still good for a week. Such details often escape a corporate high flyer. It had bothered Sreemati in the initial years of marriage; after all in the eight long years of courting, his obsession about every nuance of her life had so often felt claustrophobic. She smiled to herself. What a fool!!

She went into the kitchen to make the second cup of coffee. Kamla, their maid for ten years now, came bustling up. Sreemati waved her away, ‘ Go and get ready , your brother will be here any time!’ Kamala ,had requested a two day leave , impatient to share the bounties and news of the ‘to do’ with her agape larger family. Hemant had demurred, ‘ You need a rest. There’s so much mess still …I can’t find anything I want…. you HAD to keep an open house for everyone…. We could have easily used the guest house…’. But Sreemati had not stepped down, her iron resolve to avoid confrontation , for once, ignored . ‘ Kamla , deserves a break …after all a marriage means a lot of work that you men don’t even understand…let her go home, sit back , gossip and make everyone envious. Her batteries will be fully charged in two days. She’ll bully me even more, you’ll see.’ ‘ I will wait on you. O Lord!’ she had added with a twinkle, ‘ Your two glasses of tepid nimbu pani, your porridge just cooked right and fruits just diced right, and the hot water bottle at night just filled so..after all I am not going for work for a week still.’ Kamla must be away… it was essential for her to be not there…After all these years Sreemati didn’t want to make any mistake. Her urgency must have spilled out a little, Hemant had looked at her intently for a fleeting second, even Kamla had stopped pretending to dust. But then he had agreed and Sreemati could have kissed him.

This morning she had suggested going away for a short trip..somewhere nearby maybe. The sardonic smile had played at the corner of his mouth, ‘ Scared of housework , already?’ Then he had spoken, all most to himself, ‘ Yeah.. Why not? We’ll have to start somewhere…It’ll be strange without Gudia ,though..no? Let’s see, I’ll contact the travel guy…why not fly? There’re plenty of points …can you extend your leave?’

Sreemati prepared for her bath. She must be clean , very clean. Kamla was fussing about lunch. She shooed her away .. ‘There’s plenty of left overs ,Kamla, and I still know how to turn the micro on.’ At last, they left, the brother and sister, the latter already loquacious about ‘ Gudiya’s husband.’ Sreemati had settled her monthly payment under much protest from Kamla. But it was almost the month end and Sreemati knew Kamla would not fail to come back. She never had. Anyway, she had a soft corner for this amazingly efficient and voluble girl…things may not be as they always were when she came back and Sreemati felt as if she was already indebted to Kamla for what she will have to manage, later.


It as 10 o’clock. She had to wait still. For the phone call. She had not anticipated that phone call on that evening, though. The date was still sharply etched in her memory….9th of November. The year ,unimportant…it was yesterday. Hemant was having an affair and the distraught second fiddle of his lady love was seeking Sreemati’s help!! She remembered the conversation, it had been a blur then. Had she suspected? Suspect? What a strange word to apply for a person she had known the most intimately in her life and then discovered to have not known at all. There had been signs ,naturally, but faith is such a blinding emotion. It refused to acknowledge a truth.

Things had been in a mess that year. The relationship was at an all time low….Sreemati remembered her violent outbursts, her recurring threats ‘ You cannot be lived with…I am going to go away’ and Hemant pleading ‘ I am trying to change..you matter the most….give us a chance.’ Hemant was a wonderful father, a good friend ..an awfully weak human being. Their courting had been cloaked in furtiveness. Sreemati’s family had seen him as an opportunist. However, Hemant had proved everyone wrong, given up his drifting ways, achieved the Herculean task of reorienting himself in academics and acquired an MBA from a prestigious business school. Acceptance was inevitable, after all the family background though not at economic par, was extremely respectable. It was staying married finally that proved difficult for both Sreemati and Hemant. The long period of ‘ going around’ had made them feel almost married even before they had started out and therefore the quotidian reality of adjusting to individual quirks and fine tuning of expectations left them completely alone in their togetherness. Tara was born early, before her parents had the chance to adjust to being ‘husband and wife’ and though they had showered devotion on her, perhaps they had failed to bridge all the gaps that were slowly emerging in their own relationship. Sreemati was often depressed, unable to accept a day committed to remembering feeds, bottle washes and midnight awakenings. Hemant went through his own hell of losing out on Sreemati’s companionship.

That year Sreemati had lost her father and when she returned home after a long period of trying to put her mother and family affairs to order, she looked at Hemant for his broad shoulders. She wasn’t prepared for the coolness of his response—perhaps she had forgotten her own past coldness and taken Hemant’s availability for granted.

Looking back , Sreemati often had wondered about that ‘affair’. It was neither serious nor deep. Nor was it that Hemant was a philandering man. But it shook her up . Her hero had shown clay feet .It was unforgivable. She had been never been so alone , emotionally. She had started planning her revenge then.

She would wait.

The incident faded from their relationship. Those who had known about it applauded her courage and her maturity. They did not realise that for her it was a new beginning. She honed herself to become a model wife – the girl who had dreams once was replaced by an apparently caring, devoted , supportive woman determined and destined to make a marriage successful.

But she thought often about her plan. She would inflict the abysmal loneliness upon Hemant at the very time he would need her most. Years rolled by. Tara was a pleasure to rear. Her relationship with Sudhir was an icing on a superbly sculpted cake and their marriage was an inevitable culmination.

Tara glanced up at the clock again. Every thing was ready. The sleeping pills that she had kept on surreptitiously collecting over the past months were all within their effective period and amounted to a lot. She had pondered over the method for long. She couldn’t stand physical pain. Even the consummation of their marriage had left her in agony for days afterwards. She thought of leaving a note---god knows how many she had composed in her head over the years. But no, it was the bewilderment that would add to the sweetness of her vengeance. She did not permit herself to think about Tara, their Gudiya. Fortunately, she had no one else in her side of the family to think of any more—her younger brother had expired in his teens.

Why wasn’t the phone ringing? Strange …..for Hemant was a creature of habit. Should she call up then? What would be her excuse? ‘ I wanted to hear your voice !!?’ Sreemati almost laughed aloud. It had been so, so many years back. She and Hemant would talk through the night, at times even dozing off. Sreemati shook herself mentally. Don’t be a sentimental fool , not at this stage.

The strident pealing of the bell startled her. A gossipy neighbour, interested in juicy details of the celebration over a cup of coffee? A sales lady—no, they were not permitted to wander about in this ‘security’ conscious apartment block. May be if she doesn’t respond the visitor will go away. The second series was more vigorous in tone than ever. Somebody seemed to be leaning on the buzzer.

Sreemati got up . It was HEMANT!! His words rushes over her in vituperative torrent!! ‘ What were you doing? I have been waiting an hour outside. I have been to the loo ten times already! Couldn’t stay back in the office anymore… the doctor also advised rest. Must be the muck you had been feeding me since yesterday. Told you a thousand times to throw away all those leftovers---your ‘savouries’! Come on don’t stand about . Make me some Electral..’

Sreemati still stood about. Like a stone. Again, she will have to wait. For another day.