Chapter 1
13 hundred hours and 23 minutes and 48 seconds. 23 hundred and 23 minutes and 55 seconds of incessant waiting. For her time had lost its circadian rhythm; she had fallen into a tesseract of time, and day and night had blended into one. She looked at the mocking, smug, triumphant wall clock again with bloodshot, swollen eyes. 13 hundred hours and 25 minutes and 33 seconds. The clock flashed knowingly at her, taunting her, as if it held the answers to the questions in her heart. She knew she wouldn't be able to bear it much longer; she wouldn't be able to hold it in. Those questions which were zooming around in her head like bumblebees on cocaine would destroy her very existence if she continued to ponder over them.
Where was he?
Why wasn't he here yet?
It'd been 23 hours now. You know he's home longest for 4 days at a time. But he used to call. A long time back. A very, very long time back. Now? Now he doesn't even acknowledge your presence.
He's with that Kajal woman. No...no he's with Anjali. Or is it Seema today? Oh yes of course he gave her the 'look' at Khejwani's party didn't he?
They've been fornicating under consent of the King. He's screwed my life. He's flipped me like a omelette and conveniently dropped me on the floor leaving the maid to pick up my remains. I'm nothing but an omelette to him. An...omelette.
Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. A dozen attempts had been made by numerous well-wishers to get into contact with her and they had finally given up. He was almost never home, and she had long since stopped seeing any of their friends, because she simply did not have the energy to make any more excuses or to face people. She would turn to stone and conversations flinted off her in hopeless, futile sparks.
Stop it! Stop it Geet! You're torturing yourself. Get up, wash your eyes. Your lovely lovely hazel eyes he so adores. If your eyes look fine he won't notice the rest of your state. He won't notice the empty Johnny Walker Blue labels. He won't notice your frumpy clothes or your dishevelled hair or your dead limbs. No, no if your eyes look alive, piercing his soul like they used to 2 years back he'll be putty in your hands. It'll be like the last 3 months never happened.
Distraught and mangled she lifted herself off the lounge and looked back at it, tempted to slip into the ass-shaped dent the leather made. Slowly and miserably she walked over to the kitchen counter and picked up her Dior lip gloss and Clinique mascara. She was going to look pretty for him. She was going to wear her best gown ' the one he'd got from Milan ' and be dressed to the absolute nines. She would be the old Geet Handa again. For him. For her husband. For the love of her pathetic, phony, pitiful life.
Yes, my darling. I'll change for you. I won't doubt you. I'll be the loving woman you always loved. Just return now, please before I lose my mind from this bloody, excrutiating waiting. I'll even...I'll even give up drinking.
Time brought pain and misery and the only solace she found was in the wonderful forgetfulness of liquor. Oh, how it eased the suffering, softened the sharp edge of rebuffs and gentled down the pitiless sun of reality that beat down on everyone else. Booze was a life-saver for her since 2 months.
But now anymore darling. I've had it with this phase. She needed re-assurance, someone to confirm her feeling about her wonderful future, to tell her that life was going to be beautiful again, worth living again, so that she could slip away from the ominous hug of doom she was currently engulfed in. And that someone was going to be him. Determined, she proceeded towards the bathroom when she heard a knob turn about 8 feet from her.
Her heart leaped in sudden alarm and she moved cautiously towards the front door. It was him. He finally came. He came back, for her. She was about to approach him when he entered the bedroom and locked himself in. Bewildered, totally caught by surprise at his non-response, she sat back down on the still present ass-shaped dent on the leather lounge in slow motion.
Should I go in? Confront him? ...no. No I just vowed I'd never doubt him again. He's probably planning something for me. Maybe he's got me something ' a present? Or some news? Good news? Yes...yes it must be that. He's trying to figure out how to tell it to me. Well, I'll give him no reason to hesitate.
Just as she ended that thought he walked out of the room ' a suitcase in his hand. Panic sirens went off in her head. She stood up and watched him for a moment.
"If that is for the Red Cross, I've already sent them a donation."
He glanced up in the semi-darkness. "I'm leaving".
Relax. It's an errand again. "Another trip for Mr D'Mello?"
"No," he said without stopping. "This one's for me. I'm getting out of here."
"But '"
"There is nothing to discuss Geet."
She moved into the minimal light towards him, fighting for self-control and trying her utmost to maintain sanity. "But- but there is. I went to see a therapist today and he told me I'm going to be fine." The words were coming out in a torrent. "I'm going to stop drinking and I won't ask you '"
"Geet, it's over. I want a divorce."
The words hit her like someone had punched into her rubber-like abdomen, ripped out her guts with a scalpel and knotted everything up in there. She stood there, clamping her jaw so tight to prevent retching and the bile that was making its way up her delicate throat. "Listen, darling, I...I don't blame you for thinking like that and neither am I accusing you of anything. I, I know you're job is hectic, for Pete's sake we haven't even seen each other for a total of 4 days in one stretch since you've got it! But...but we can mend this! I've got appointments with a counsellor, we're going to be fine! The sessions are a bit steep for us and might take up some valuable time but if it saves our marriage then why not?! It's...it's going to be different darling. It's all going to go back to before. The way we were. I promise, I'll change I'll do anything." She held out her hand pleadingly. "All I'm asking for is a chance."
Turning to face her, his handsome face shining with glory in the beautiful moonlight looking like a Greek God, the words that came out of his mouth next were almost ironic. But his cold, contemptuous eyes spoke volumes of his true intentions. "I'm in love with someone else. All I want from you is a divorce."
She stood there a moment, swaying backwards and forwards slightly then turned around to the faithful ass-shaped dent and sat back down, looking at the September issue of Vogue India. She heard his voice as he turned the knob of the front door for the last time saying, "My attorney will be in touch with you" and then the slam of a door.
Geet continued carelessly flipping the pages of the magazine, and when she had come to the end she set it down neatly in the centre of the table, went into the bathroom, opened the medicine cabinet and looked at her reflection in the mirror. I am just an omelette then she wondered as she slashed her wrists.
Edited by naisal - 14 years ago
Jaane Anjaane Hum Mile
Tum Se Tum Tak
Kyunki Saas Bhi Kabhi Bahu Thi 2
Mannat Har Khushi Paane Ki
Vasudha
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