Geet's hopes improved as the days passed. Her spouse seemed to enjoy her cooking, was always courteous, and appeared prompt in returning home directly from work. There was no further mention of Des.
But that's where their relationship had stalled.
At times when she caught him staring at her, he'd promptly look away. He had also gone to great lengths to avert coming in contact with her though on one occasion it became unavoidable.
Maan's friends and their families, headed by her adopted brother Sujoy, had organized a welcome party for them. Geet was surprised to find her aloof husband had made so many desi friends, but when she inquired, he said, "After coming to this country, people are so starved of anything even remotely Indian that they are willing to befriend even their worst enemy."
But Geet didn't feel out of place; indeed, she was flattered by all the attention and gifts that were bestowed on the new couple. The best part was when she got to meet Sujoy's wife.
Debolina was as she had imagined her with large beautiful eyes, long black hair, sharp features, and a ready smile. She was also very clearly pregnant.
"You must be Geet. Sujoy never tires speaking about you, and I've also heard you can speak Bengali very well!"
Geet smiled and hugged her. "Beshi na, ektu ektu." (Not much, a little bit.)
Debo stroked her hair wistfully. "You remind me of my little sister."
"The same for me, Debo! She is part of our family now! We must be careful though, her possessive hubby may get jealous!" Sujoy said with a laugh while Maan looked disconcerted.
That little Anurupa was a very happy and cherished child was obvious when she took to Geet right away and spent most of the evening in her arms. But it was apparent Maan wasn't exactly enjoying himself. He looked awkward and out of sorts. Perhaps he should have a couple of drinks to loosen up, Geet thought, feeling reckless. It'd be fun to see his wild side.
Then Debo sang, and Geet was back home, in her mother's loving embrace basking in the warmth of her unconditional love... It was beautiful. She didn't realize she was crying until her husband handed her a box of tissues and took Anu as she was growing restless.
Later when they were asked to pose for pictures, Maan was encouraged to put his arm around her.
"Never knew you to be shy man!"
He compensated by giving Geet a tight hug. She had never been so close to him before; the warmth of his body and his breath filled her with confusion and excitement. It was apparent he felt something too when he looked down at her and their eyes met for what felt like an eternity.
"We are done, lovebirds. You can continue the romance at home. We've got to go now. Anu is sleepy." Sujoy beamed, thumping Maan's back.
"Ouch!" Geet's hair had got thoroughly ensnared in the buttons of Maan's jacket. She asked for a pair of scissors.
"No, don't! You have lovely hair," he admonished while working carefully to free it, which took several minutes.
After that day, she reckoned he liked her in bits and pieces; therefore, perhaps soon he would like her as a whole.
With each passing day, she felt more positive. Gradually, he seemed to be getting used to having her around. On some evenings, he made tea for her; and when she protested, he would say, "If you can turn on the coffee machine for me every morning, why can't I do this little bit for you?" He rinsed the dishes and loaded the dishwasher and had even started removing his shoes before entering the living room.
But he hadn't taken her out. That is, not for fun though they had made several trips to the grocery store. He was busy with work all the time or so he said, coming home late almost every day and after dinner shutting himself away in his room from where she could often hear the busy tap tapping of the computer keyboard. "I have a deadline next week," he volunteered as an excuse even though she didn't ask for it.
Then one Tuesday night, when he failed to make an appearance at the usual time, she was overcome with unease, suspecting and dreading the cause yet she consoled herself, "Have faith, Geet."
But when it approached eleven o'clock, she couldn't wait anymore, she had to know for sure. She called Sujoy. "Dadamoni?"
"Haan Geet, what's up? Did Maan quarrel with you? Give him the phone, I'll speak to him!"
"No. Umm... How is di and Anu?"
"They are fine, little sis. You are constantly on Debo's mind, Geet this and Geet that. Aakhir behen kiski hai?" (After all, whose sister are you?) "Am I saying it right?"
"Yes, perfect." She paused, not wanting to create any rifts between Maan and his friend. "Was he still at work when you left?"
"Maan? No. In fact, I came home not too long ago. But he had left quite early at four. He rushed out in a hurry after getting a phone call. I thought it must be you asking him to take you somewhere. Why, isn't he there?"
Biting the edge of her lower lip, she said, "No...I hope he is all right."
"He should be. Don't worry. He can take care of himself. Oftentimes, he just sits in a coffee shop with his laptop and works for hours. I used to do so before Debo came. But why should Maan do that now? It doesn't make sense. Did you try his cell?"
"No, I didn't. I thought it might disturb him."
"Why didn't you? You are his wife for God's sake though sometimes I don't like it when Debo calls and pesters me, but this is a different matter altogether. Let me give him a ring."
"No, dadamoni. I think he's home."
She glanced up as Maan opened the door and entered the apartment. He looked harried, unlike his usual calm and composed self and appeared surprised to see her. "You still awake?"
"Uh...I was just waiting for you and got worried when you didn't come."
"I had work, a lot of work, you know the deadline. Sorry, I should have called you. I'm not used to people waiting up for me you see." He wasn't a good liar. And he failed to meet her eyes. "I've had dinner already. Sorry again."
She wept that night.
He wasn't tardy the rest of the week. Perhaps he is riddled with guilt, she thought.
The next Saturday morning he was late coming out of his room when the phone rang.
"Can I speak to Maaan?" The voice was female.
Taking a deep breath, Geet answered, "He is still sleeping. May I know who is calling?"
"Tell him it's Des. I need to talk to him. He hasn't been answering my calls!"
She had a young, but high-pitched voice; a woman who was used to getting her way and who wouldn't take no for an answer.
Geet bristled with anger. "You can call back in half an hour. He should be up by then."
She hung up.
Soon she could hear him in his room talking and arguing on the phone. She ran into the master and locked the door to shut out the sound.
Almost a month had passed since they had been together, and she still felt clueless about him. He was like a giant jigsaw puzzle with the key pieces missing. He was good at times, caring, kind. Perhaps it was his nature, and he didn't consider her special. What was certain was that he continued to see this other woman, and Geet's presence hadn't altered it. Her rival appeared larger than life, and she had lost the fight even before it had begun.
"Aren't you going to eat?" Maan asked as she sat brooding at the dinner table that evening.
"I'm not hungry."
"Well, that's something I cannot say to tell you the truth. You have influenced my taste completely." He smiled.
"Have I?"
"Well, here's my clean plate as evidence." He held it up.
"I'm not talking about food."
"Then what are you talking about?" His guard was up.
"I have been here for quite some time now, and I still feel you're a complete stranger to me. I was thinking..."
"What do you want to know?" he said.
"What is she like? Who is she? What kind of relationship do you share? Tell me. I think I have a right to know."
"That's none of your business. Another four weeks and you'll be back home. Let's leave it at that," he said, abruptly brushing her off.
None of my business. Geet left the table before she threw her fork at him.
None of your business.
The words echoed over and over in her brain like a neverending sermon.
She sat on the bed with her knees drawn up; her tears had run dry. No words could be more hurtful. He had been done with her from the very beginning, and she"like a fool"had believed she could win him over by playing the ideal Indian wife. He'd probably been laughing at her all along.
I can't stay any longer, I have to leave now! Papa will get me the tickets.
She reached for the phone then hesitated. Her parents had no idea about what was going on. She had made a conscious decision to not tell them anything. They would be shocked, heartbroken. She had to break it to them gently, but for that to happen she would need to stay.
But how? Not like this!
Pulling off her maroon sari, she stuffed it in the bottom of her still mostly unpacked suitcase. She hated it.
Then walking into the bath, she assessed herself in the mirror. If marriage held no meaning for him, why should it for me? If everything was going to come to an end in another month, why not now? Why continue with this charade?
Unclasping the mangalsutra from around her neck, she laid it down carefully on the counter. Then, wiping off the sindoor from her forehead, she examined her face again.
She smiled. Finally, she knew who she was. She was Geet Sharma, and there was no looking back.
tbc
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