[International Call from Istanbul, Turkey]
The loud vibration of his oversized handphone diverted Rishabh Kundra's attention from the important first-person shooter game running on his laptop.
"Who the f**k is calling now? Can a guy play a game in peace?" He screamed at no one in particular with an air of annoyance. "Hello!" he yelled in the same angry tone.
"Umm, were you busy? I am sorry. This is the only time I could call you so...I'll make it short. Have you eaten your meals okay?" She scratched her forehead on the other side of the line. He was still angry. Perhaps angrier than she'd left him yesterday and there was nothing she could do for him on the other side of the world.
"Yes, I haven't skipped meals and I am sleeping just fine without you. Hang up!" Rishabh had decided he had no reason to be mad at Madhu but he couldn't help but be irritated hearing her voice on the line. She sounded calm as a lake after leaving him flustered at home.
"Umm, I coming home tomorrow". She stifled a sigh. The man could be burdensome.
"No, there is no need for that. Why don't you just live there? You're a citizen and you have a big mansion to boast so just live in your big house and drive your stupid sports car and forget you ever had a loser boyfriend in Mumbai", Rishabh huffed as he tried to control his anger.
"Does that mean you're not picking me up at the airport?" Madhu tried a joke but her heart was not in it. A flood of tears clouded her thinking.
"Have a nice life Madhubala!" he thought he was going to have the last word and hang up but his fingers couldn't move. He patiently waited for her to respond.
"Your food is in the fridge Rishabh Kundra", she said between muffled tears and he smiled, even if just for a second.
"f**k you!" he screamed, now in mock anger and the line went blank.
She threw her phone across the room and cursed him out. But what was the use? She always let him win when they fought.
It was the same old story every year, for ten years. His mood changed like the wind around spring. When her annual trip to Turkey neared, he would distance himself from her, building up walls that she'd worked hard to knock down.
"You going to him again?" he'd asked her a week ago and she felt guilt pooling her gut.
"I am not going to him, I am going for him and just because you're upset does not mean I will stop. You should know that he took a part of me when he left and I will always long for it, for him".
She said what she had to say and they both left the topic alone. That is how this argument usually ended, nothing said at all. Madhu had thought about Rishabh during the flight. If she'd put half the effort she did with "him" for the week with Rishabh over the year, he would be a happy man. But she didn't. She hid her wants from Rishabh and simply let him take charge. If only she could open up, things would be different today.
She packed her things and rushed to the airport. The urgency of seeing Rishabh took priority over all else.
"Why do you go to Turkey?" he'd asked once.
"Because the sheets used to smell like 'him'. I would sit in the closet and snuggle with his tuxedo, the sweater he wore for Christmas, his bathrobe. But now it just smells like me. I've been there for too long. But leaving him alone, selling our house feels wrong. A part of me still lives there. I am still his wife...that's what I think".
Madhubala Malik was a devoted believer but she agreed to live with an atheist without marriage. Rishabh had always figured it was because she loved him but he started to have his doubts when she told him about Omar- her dead husband. He'd passed away after four years of marriage and she'd just moved back from Turkey to forget about their past. But she never did. Her heart would start mourning a month before his death anniversary. She would unknowingly distance herself from Rishabh, leaving the bed at night to cry alone. Then, she would leave for a week "to live with him", as she called it. Rishabh could do nothing more than watch her pine for another man. He'd tolerated enough over the years but the pot was boiling over now. What was the point of complimenting her, being nice to her when she only had eyes for one man?
He'd thought about proposing to her but that wouldn't change much. He wasn't even sure she would say yes. So he didn't. He hardened his heart instead, looking for distractions that would pull him away from the stress at home. But some days, like today, he just could keep it inside. He knew she would get mad when he ignored her in the black suit but he was hurting too much to care. And when she walked back from her trip, a day earlier than scheduled, he squandered the sympathy he felt for her and put on a pout.
"I am home", she sighed and dropped her weight on the sofa. Her head landed on his lap and pulled away immediately.
"Seriously Rishabh?"
He frowned even more in response.
"I came back to you so stop being mad, um?"
"I am your mistress?" Rishabh put away his laptop and stared her straight in the eye.
"That wouldn't be too bad", she shook her head in playful manner. "But then who would be my wife?"
"Your Turk, who else?"
"Eh! You're my partner".
"Stop. Let's see the end of it today. Is it me or is it Omar?"
Madhu's brows puckered, her toes curled and she froze in spot.
"Speak, why won't you? Or is it that you think I can't handle your answer? Bloody hell, Madhubala Malik thinks I can't handle her leaving. Well you thought wrong! After putting up with your shit for ten years, I am about as ready as a man can be".
Madhubala was at a loss of words. The room fell into uncomfortable silence.
"What makes you think I don't love you?"
"You never say it for one. Do you remember a time in our ten years of togetherness when you've said 'I love you'? It's always 'okay' or a half-hearted 'me too' to my initiative. I have stopped expressing love because you are too indifferent when I do".
"That's not it. I am not indifferent". She was on the verge of tears.
"Then why don't you call me boyfriend?" His voice softened. "What's with the 'partner'? It sounds so distant. Am I your colleague or something?"
"You're not a boy anymore. We aren't in a childish relationship. How can the word 'boyfriend' suffice when you're my partner for life?"
The woman could say just the right things when she really tried.
"Is that sincere or just fluff and cheese?" he pouted and his raging emotions settled a bit.
"If I tell you I sold the house will that be enough to prove my sincerity?" she said with a sly smile.
"Extinguish that smirk", he frowned. "But did you really? So you're not going to Turkey next year?"
"Who said anything about not going?'
Back to square one, wasn't it?
"But I'll take you with me".
"I am not going!" he turned around to face the wall.
"Alright, I won't cry anymore. I will live happily with you for a long, long time because that is what Omar would have wanted".
"NO", he turned around with a dramatic jump. "It should be because that is what I want".
He'd caved in.
"You aren't mad anymore, are you?" Madhu asked a rhetorical question.
"I am still mad", he relaxed back on the couch as all the frustration flew away. "You're still the hot and cold Madhu. You don't even try to act cute".
"Should I give it a try?"
He shook his head vigorously in anticipation.
"Honeeyy!" she stressed on the syllables as she gently hit his arm. "Do I look cute, honneyy?"
Rishabh burst into splits of laughter.
"Yes, very cute". He pat on her head and soothed the embarrassed Madhu. "Aaeyoo, come here girl. You can't act cute to save your life".
The End
Edited by DonnaHarvey - 11 years ago
Bade Achhe Lagte Hain
Anupamaa
Iss Pyaar Ko Kya Naam Doon
