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Chapter 23: Salome
The maid had been gone the next morning itself and when the news was discovered at breakfast that the maid's grandmother had suddenly taken ill and she had to leave, her father-in-law had given her a look. She had tried to hold his gaze and not look away to let him that she was not scared, but it had been one of the hardest things that she had ever done. Her chest had been beating hard and suddenly she had felt someone hold her hands. She had looked down and found her husband's hand holding hers in her lap. Without giving away what had occurred behind the shield of the dining table, she had looked back up at her father-in-law. Even though there had been much hustle and bustle around the table and she hadn't thought that anyone had noticed that stare that her father-in-law was aiming her way, she had heard someone call her name. She had turned to find Devyani asking her to pass the rotis. She must have looked confused for a moment, because Devyani had smiled and repeated the question. She had smiled back like an automaton before passing the plate of roti's.
"You haven't touched your food, Vidya." Her mother-in-law had said then.
She had looked down at her plate as if seeing it for the first time and had then looked up at Devyani to nod. When she had raised her hand to eat, she had realized that her husband was still holding onto it. She has looked at their joined hands and then at him. He had pulled his hand back, only then seeming to realize it as well.
That had been a week ago. For a few days after that, she had taken time off from her coaching to spent time with her family. Gaurav had made it a point to come home early from work to take them out somewhere, although most days, they went out during the day and had stayed in during the evenings. Her mother and aunts had insisted on choosing more sarees for her and she had managed to convince them to buy the types of cotton sarees she usually wore. They had teased her openly many times about how handsome her husband was and by the twentieth time, she had learned to tune it out. Her mother, on the other hand, had pulled her aside to ask her if there was some good news to be shared, to which she replied that yes, indeed there was… that she was going for coaching to gain entrance to a Master's program, that she was learning English, that she was just starting to learn how to ride a scooter and that her husband was a patient teacher…' and her mother stopped her then with a stern look and said, "Vidya beti, I know you think you are funny…." She had remained quiet until her mother had asked again if there was any good news to be shared. She hadn't been able to give in that quickly and had said, "You are going to have to be a little bit more specific, Maa…"
"Hai Rabba… I don't know how he puts up with you…" her mother had remarked before walking away and Vidya had felt a genuine smile break through at her mother's agitation with her.
Her family had gone back yesterday. A wave of homesickness hit her now as she thought of them, something that had been coming at regular intervals since their departure. She should have gone to coaching today, but there had a deep wave of despair that had overcome her this morning that she had allowed herself one more day off.
She did not want to remain in the bedroom any longer; it felt a bit like hiding out, although she did not know what she was hiding out from. She made herself get up and walked to the bathroom to shower and change. When she left her room, she had no particular destination in mind, but she soon found herself in Gaurav's parlor. She went through his book collection and saw that many of the books were in English. She wanted to read one of the Hindi ones, but decided that her reading might as well have the additional benefit of improving her English and looked though the titles on the level of the shelf closest to her.
The Prince - Machiavelli
Anarchy, State, and Utopia – Robert Nozick
1984 – George Orwell
The Communist Manifesto – Karl Marx
A Theory of Justice – John Rawls
The Art of War – Sun Tsu
On Liberty – John Stuart Mill
"How about this?" She heard suddenly and looked up to see her husband leaning against the shelf, still dressed in his suit, but now with the tie loosened and the top buttons unbuttoned just the way he always did as soon as he came home.
She reached for the book that he had extended to her and read, "Animal Farm" and looked up at him in confusion.
He smiled and nodded to the titles that she had been reading out loud just before. "Similar concept to these. Much simpler language and very clever. I think you will like it."
She smiled then and asked, "And it has nothing to do with the fact that you think I am a Gaon Waali?"
He laughed at this question and shook his head in mirth. "Vidya, I have never met a Gaon Waali quite like you. But then again, I haven't met many gaon waali's, so I don't know what they are like."
"Just the same as the city… we have the same human strengths and foibles… it is just expressed differently."
He nodded in agreement.
She held the book to her chest and a moment of silence ensued. Before it stretched unnaturally, she asked, "What is that painting about?" pointing to the large painting of a woman holding the decapitated head of a man, which had drawn her curiosity before too.
He followed her gaze and she noticed that he was quiet for a moment.
Then, while still looking at the picture, he said, "That is Salome."