Chapter 1
"Look! It says here that he's been caught being intimate with her in Cannes! For all the world to see!
"I can't believe I've been a fan of his for so long! Had I known, I never would've watched any of his dramas."
"Tell me about it. What a lowlife, two-timing his wife like that. I mean, he's got this beautiful, classy woman at home waiting for him, why would he cheat on her with such an plain-looking girl? Up-and-coming star my ass, she's only using his household name to get into movies. What was he thinking?"
"It's mid-life crisis. He's nearing 50 and he wants to "restore" his youth. What better way than fooling around with a girl half your age?"
"The way I see it, it's called power play. He's feeding his ego by having more than one woman wanting him. He feels invincible because two women are devoted to him at the same time. Pathetic, really."
"Yeah, but I really do feel sorry for the wife. I can't stand cheaters, total deal breakers for me. Ugh!"
Although she was never one to indulge herself with gossip, it wasn't like she could just up and leave the room in the middle of her meal. They were a boisterous lot, this particular group of teaching staff, and everybody in their immediate vicinity can't do anything except put up with the noise. In the end Pragya kept to herself and tried to drown out her colleagues' chatters by running through her invigilator timetable for the upcoming midterm exams. It was lunch break and she had about 15 more minutes before heading off to her next class. A cackle of raucous laughter greeted somebody's vile remark. The gossiping near her was heating up, it wasn't just chattering anymore but a full-blown commotion! She suddenly lost her appetite and hurriedly packed up her lunch box.
Her mind refused to stop replaying what she overheard. It was like on loop. She didn't know who the actor was, she never really cared about celebrities and all their drama, but something hit too close to home. Was she the devoted wife? Or was she the mistress? Pragya shook her head as she made her way down the corridor, oblivious to her surrounding. She's neither. Whatever's going on in that actor's life is nothing like her arrangement with Abhi. Really? Are you sure? Pragya unconsciously hissed at herself.
"Stop it."
She needed to focus, class was starting in 5 minutes and it was an important lesson as her students are about to face mid-terms. Pragya straightened her spine, squared her shoulders and pushed the door.
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Her plan didn't go so well. She made it 15 minutes before her mind wandered to her earlier brooding. She immediately told her class to work on some exercise while she pretended to be absorbed in grading papers.
As long as she remembered, from the moment she understood the meaning of responsibility, she has always tried to do everything by the book. She took pride in being the sensible one, the mature one, the leader, and the role model. She felt it was a given, being the oldest child in the family. Whatever her elders to her to do, she'd do it without batting an eye. If she had to choose between doing what is right and what is easy, she'd hold her head high, lift up her chin, and choose the former. All the time. Every time. She was wise for her age, her aunties like to remind her, she had a knack for seeing the bigger picture, for seeing what really matters. She faced challenges head first and won't give in without a true, honest fight.
She was responsible, she was reliable, she was honest and good and sincere in whatever she does. She believes in giving; she believes that it is in giving that one truly receive, and to not expect anything in return. If Pragya could be summarized in one word, she was selfless.
"Oh, beti, you're everything a man could ever hope for in a wife!"
She's heard that countless times. Maybe her elders thought it would soothe her disappointment, but it did the exact opposite. It wasn't a balm for her soul, it wasn't reassuring at all. She realized early on that her only fault was that she was undesirable. She was never anybody's first choice. She tried so hard to be likable, to somebody's first choice, not second best. So Pragya tried laughing with her hand on her mouth, she tried eating a little less, she sucked in her stomach in photographs, taught herself to not speak her mind where it wasn't wanted.
She wasn't always like this. She remembered being twelve and already a hopeless romantic. She loved watching The Princess Bride every other Saturday morning and she made it one of her life's conquest to meet her own Westley. That movie taught her all she needs to know about love; whatever life throws in her way, whatever evil villain she must come face to face with, love will make everything worthwhile, love will lead her back home. She knew true love exist, she believes it, but as years passed, as each of her colleagues got married one by one, and she was yet to cross path with her Westley, her romantic dreams slowly but surely dimmed into a weak flame dying in the wind.
A deep sigh shuddered through her body at the nostalgic memory, she knew why today's earlier event lead her to this particular memory. She dreaded being reminded of her naivety, she always thought it was a chip in her armor to want romance like that in her life. Look at her life now. She settled for a man who offered her a business arrangement for a marriage. She dealt with a sister-in-law who thinks leisure hour should be spent torturing her bhabhi. She works hard and live right but life keeps on throwing her curve balls. What happened to meeting her own Westley? The life she had now couldn't get any further from all the hope and fantasies she spun back when she was a little girl.
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"Oh, haven't you heard? He's off with Tannu celebrating her birthday."
Pragya knew it should't hurt her they way it did. She knew it shouldn't make her feel betrayed.
"Really? Well, good for them."
Aaliya was about to hurl another jibe but Pragya wasn't going to give her the time of day. She turned on her heels and headed towards the comfort of her room, no, their room.. his room.
She closed the door behind her with a resounding click and refused to be emotional about Aaliya's revelation. She was not going to give in now. She tried to remember the words one of her aunties have said a few years ago.
"Beti, how I wish my own daughters are like you. Always thinking of other people and putting their needs above you own. I'm proud of the woman you've become."
Pragya tried to muster the courage that usually followed after reviving that memory. Fake it until you make it, so they say, but how long? How long can she fake strength amidst all this turmoil? Some days she can convince herself that what she's doing is for the greater good; she's protecting the people she loves most from pain and, really, that's all that matters, but other days, well, other days she felt like she's hanging on by the thinnest of threads. Like today.
Pragya wrapped her arms around her middle and tried valiantly to hold herself together. She closed her eyes and counted down from ten. Closing her eyes was a mistake because the sight behind her eyelids were of her husband and his girlfriend dining intimately in a candlelit room. Pragya struggled to even out her breathing. She felt big, fat tears pooling up in her eyes and a painful lump forming in her throat. She sprinted across the room towards the balcony. Maybe fresh air will do her good. She got hold of the railing and hung her head tiredly. Her shoulders shook with the effort to hold back a cry.
Maa, what have I done to myself?
This, here, was a woman who lived all her life to do right by her family. She always thanked her good fortune and went out of her way to help those in need. Abhi has always reminded her with his cutting words and thoughtless actions that their marriage wasn't based on love, but that's not true, not really, because the very reason she married Abhi was out of her love for her sister and mother. It might not be fair to equate the sacrificial love she has towards her family with the passionate, soul-consuming love that should be present in a marriage, but it was love all the same. Usually, this should be ample reason for her to pull herself together. But tonight, just this one night, she wanted to be selfish. She's been selfless all her adult life, she can afford the luxury to be selfish tonight. So she didn't hold herself back. She let the images of Abhi and Tannu wound her. Abhi caressing Tannu's face lovingly. Abhi standing up and walking around Tannu's chair. Abhi leaning down and pressing tender kisses on Tannu's exposed shoulders. Abhi burrying his face in Tannu's hair. Abhi winding his arms around Tannu's waist. Abhi's tongue trailing alongside Tannu's face, dipping sensually into the delicate shell of her ear--
Stupid, stupid Pragya.
Pragya fell on her haunches and dropped her head onto her folded arms. Ragged sobs tore through her, cutting her, but she couldn't stop them. It hurt. It hurt it hurt it hurt. She continued to press her hot face into her arms, unwilling to let the world see how broken she really is. Even in the privacy of a closed bedroom Pragya felt the overwhelming need to shield herself. When her knees became to tired from holding up all her weight and all her burdens, she collapsed onto her back and curled into a foetus.
This was her. This crippled person was her. If her mother saw her right that moment, she wouldn't have recognized her. Pragya was never one to go all out with theatrics, she concealed and carried on. Not tonight. Pragya didn't even lift her hand to wipe off the sticky tears on her face. This was her. This was a woman whose husband, in the eyes of God and man, was out wining and dining his girlfriend. This was a woman who had to accept the fact that her husband is out wining and dining his girlfriend. This was a woman whose husband doesn't see anything wrong with it. So, yes, it was a marriage of convenience, there's a husband who committed himself to his girlfriend long before the wife entered the scene, then they're suddenly busy planning a wedding while the wife looks on. If he's not about to commit bigamy, what else can it be?
Bigamy? Oh God. What have I done to myself? Would Maa really be proud of the person I am today knowing the lengths I go to? Would Bulbul still be happy for me knowing the sacrifice I made to save her from pain?
Would my twelve-year-old self be proud of who I've become?
No. The answer would be a firm no. Maa couldn't rest easy seeing me unattached and unmarried, but she would be devastated to discover all the lies. Bulbul would be furious at first if she found out I'm sacrificing myself for her happiness, but she'd surely be guilt-ridden for all the pain I received in her place. And my twelve-year-old self-- well, what would anyone of any age say to someone leading such a pathetic life?
Pragya let out a high-pitched derisive giggle. There's no way she can go on like this.
She sat up so quickly she felt light-headed. What if it's not too late to get her life back on track? What if all of this can be undone? There has to be a way. There must be. She's given up on so much of herself that she's fading away. No more.
Well, Pragya, this too shall pass.
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