In this very moment, nothing in the world seems more miserable to me than myself. Honestly, I owe this immense honour to my dear husband.
Half an hour back, I was perfectly fine. My day was exuberantly normal. In simpler terms, nothing out of the ordinary had happened (yet).
I am myself a byproduct of tedium. I acknowledge monotony. I appreciate routine. I am at peace when I know exactly what to do and when to do it. My infernal husband on the other hand, prefers to loosen up a bit. And, a bit of loosening up around him is already too much slack.
I was supposed to be at the bakery; helping Sara right now. But, Mr Kapoor wanted to watch some silly movie. I tried to coax my way out; but of course, he used one of those damned coupons to convince me.
Which one of them did he use again? I don't even remember honestly. I would've let him have his way even if he didn't have those coupons. One look at those beautiful blue-green orbs of his and I melt like ice cream on a hot, sunny day. Always.
I sigh and snuggle further into the bed and within the duvet.
I'm one the verge of falling asleep when he finally unlocks the bathroom door and comes out in his nightwear. His scent almost immediately meddles with my senses. Over the due course of our marriage this has become quite a recurring instance.
Noticing my constant gaze on him, he clumsily turns around to glance at his surroundings while scratching the back of his neck. He walks up to me and smiles as he settles himself next to me.
The flickering sparkle in his eyes is absent. He doesn't seem like his ebullient self today. Mr Kapoor is a man of great ethics and morality.
He's never tried to keep me from doing what I desire, ever. So today is quite an unusual sight.
I place a hand on his cheek and say, "Well, you seem awfully tired today. Everything okay?"
He smiles almost instantly and looking away from me replies, "Oh yes. Im just exhausted."
He then snuggles closer to me and wraps his arms around my waist. I too fling my arms around him and intertwine my fingers at his nape.
Burying his face in the crook of his neck, he shudders. "I need you all for myself today, Priya."
I hum in response and run my hands up and down his back, comforting him. Something is definitely bothering him. I don't find it conducive to bombard him with questions right now. So instead, I let him have sometime to sort his thoughts. He can pour his heart out to me later and I'll be there for him; to listen and to soothe.
He lets go of me after a couple minutes. We sit leaning on the headrest of our bed. An unruly strand of hair falls on his face, I push it back and run my hand through his luscious, black curls. I finally see colour seeping back into his face.
He looks at my and then back at the blank television screen. Chuckling inadvertently, he grabs the television remote from the side table and switches it on. He doesn't even browse through any movies.
He straight away opens the search bar and types in the words 'beauty and the beast'.
I shriek internally. Why does he want to watch stupid Beauty And The Beast? I absolutely despise the super unrealistic, cliched troupe of this movie.
'This is a kids animated movie for crying out loud Mr. Kapoor! It isn't meant for us.' I want to tell him but my lips remain sealed and my face stoic.
He glances over at me before hitting play and I smile lacing my hand with his.
As the movie begins, his hold on my palm grows tighter.
The Beauty is being courted by a heavily muscled man. He is not attractive, but I sympathize with his dislike of literature.
"She really likes to read," He says shaking his head, "That's gotta be unhealthy!"
I snort and chuckle lightly at his snide remark.
The beauty is now sacrificing her freedom for the sake of her father. It's very emotional and she is crying.
Beauty has now gone on a hunger strike. That is, until the cutlery and crockery of the house put on a singing and dancing performance for her.
Now she's being chased by wolves.
I use my free hand to rub my head. God, I am really struggling to keep up with this timeline .
My husband remains silent throughout. This is very unlike him. I'm starting to get really anxious. What if this is something very serious? What if he's in trouble? I cannot afford to lose him. I'd honestly rather be dead than witness something wrong happen to him.
I immediately look in his direction but his gaze is glued to the television whilst his hand is still clutching mine.
On-screen, a petal falls from the rose, which I'm pretty sure is symbolic of something. I've now lost track of everything. I have absolutely no idea what's going on in the movie anymore.
The beauty and the beast now begin to dance. It's an old woman who's singing. Mr. Kapoor hums along with the song like he's heard it a gazillion times before.
I rest my head on his shoulder and admire him. The song ends and silence like before; prevails.
I don't how how long this silence lasts but I hear Mr. Kapoor sniff. I look at him and he's actually crying.
I quickly study the television. The Beast has just died. And the Beauty is holding him, crying herself, and oh, wait, a tear falls onto his fur, and then all kinds of magic happens and yup, he has miraculously returned from the dead. And wait, he's somehow become handsome now.
Mr. Kapoor takes his hand up and sniffles wiping his tears off. At this point, I'm so confused. Is he really crying because of the movie or is it something else related to it?
I leap forward and embrace him. He is reluctant at first but eventually gives in. He holds me tight while I constantly caress his hair and occasionally run my hands up and down his back.
He breaks down crying in my arms. Burying his face in my shoulder he says, "Priya, this was Ma's favourite movie. I used to watch if with her all the time as a kid. If is her birthday tomorrow . And for the very first time did I watch this movie without her."
He sags further into me. It all finally falls into place. I tighten our hug. No words can console him right now. And if there's something I have learnt is that it is best to let all negative emotions out. I hold him and let him cry and just like that, tears begin to flow from my eyes as well.
After a few minutes, I part from him. His eyes are glued down. I gently wipe his tears and cupping his face, make him look at me.
"Ma, must be so proud of you." I run my thumb across his cheek. "She has undoubtedly given birth to the best son, best brother and the best husband ."
His voice is shaky and soft, "Do you really think so Priya ?" His questioning eyes bore into mine.
I smile "No, Mr. Kapoor I know so."
He sighs and the corners of his lips lift making his lips curve into the smallest smile. He wipes off my tears and runs his hand through my hair.
"I miss her Priya. Don't get me wrong, mom has given me alot of love over the years and I love her a lot too. But you know, I'm exhausted. I'm tired of always being the latter priority, the collateral damage. I wonder, if Ma was still here, then maybe I'd be her first."
A tear trickles down his eyes that I wipe immediately. Cupping his face I say, "Mr. Kapoor, you were, you are and you will always be my first."
I bring up his hand to my lips and lovingly place a soft kiss on his knuckles. He finally seems to start attaining normalcy again.
"I love you so much Mr. Kapoor and I'm sure Ma does too. So stop crying we're not liking this."
He envelopes me in yet another hug. I in turn wrap my arms around his torso and place a soft kiss on his cheek.
We stay like that god quite sometime. When we part, I ask him "Mr. Kapoor what do you want to do to celebrate Ma's birthday tomorrow?"
His face brightens up almost immediately.
"Ma loved doing good for others. She did a lot of charity. You reminded me of her on our sangeet. And the more I think of it, the more similar both of you appear. So I was thinking maybe we could visit the same NGO and celebrate Ma with the kids."
I nod. I am so wonderstruck right now. He said I remind him of the mother he loves and lost. And the way he compares me with her makes me believe that I too am made of all things good. But honestly, I know I am a pretty messed up human to begin with. It is Mr. Kapoors virtue to bring out and see the best in others and in me.
I can never be grateful enough to have him with me for he is indeed my elixir of life.
He looks away awkwardly as silence takes over again. To ease him, I speak up, "Mr Kapoor, if I had to name our story, it would be 'Handsome and the Beast'."
He looks at me and we break into pearls of laughter.
"Oh God Priya, was this one of your horrid jokes?" He says chuckling.
"No" I say, "You can be really handsome at times. Plus the eyes, and brown locks Mr. Kapoor! You resemble Belle so well!"
Annoyed he lets out a sardonic laugh "This compliment has made me so happy that I think I might start pooping rainbows now."
That's it. I begin to laugh hysterically. "Mr. Kapoor" I wheeze trying to get some air.
With a glint of mischief in his eyes and a smile playing in his lips, he pulls me down onto the bed.
I am over him now. He swiftly turns us over so he's on top now. He affectionately kisses my forehead and caresses my cheek.
"Have I ever told you how my I love this little beast of mine?" Saying this he rubs his stubble on my neck. It is tickling me and so I begin to laugh even harder. I soon run breathless and mutter the word 'stop' between laughing and wheezing for air.
He stops and looks at me gain composure. I turn him around and begin to kiss him fiercely. I was after all the handsome's little beast.
#######
Yo! Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it.
Do take a minute to share your feedback, it means the world to me. Constructive criticism is always welcome.
CID
