As a troubled thought took shape in her consciousness: "he must be here, by now," she struggled to cross into wakefulness. She jerked to sit up, and read the clock show 4.43 AM, with the help of the dim light petering from the hallway. "It can't be," she thought to herself, "I couldn't have slept that long," and looked around the room, to find any trace of his form. She titled her chin downward to check on the state of her clothes and found herself fully clothed, inclusive of the dupatta still pinned to her head. The folds of a quilt had fallen down onto her lap and she presumed he must have come in and left while she had been asleep. Something of a relief begun to ease her body, however, it was also then that she registered the faint sound of the shower running in the bathroom and knew she'd been too quick to conclude their first night had been satisfyingly uneventful.
Now, that there was still time to dawn and some more hours, before a deluge of people could steal away from the unasked for privacy, she felt, she needed another measure of self-assurance to face him. Getting off the bed, she slowly walked to the balcony, taking off the dupatta and any bit of jewelry she could manage with one hand. The marble was cold outside and yet, the numbness she would soon feel, might ground the slow rise of anxiety and so, she welcomed it. Placing the pieces of jewelry on the patio table, she took the sight of Udaipur shrouded in the dusk hue of a deep indigo, with a few lights at the windows by the bay, placed at random.
"You haven't seen, Udaipur? If we are to ever get married, that's the spot I would pick," she remembered. She'd said that in another life, while in conversation with another man, who had said nothing much in response to her cheerfulness. "We'll see..." he's said absently, still looking at his laptop. She'd made a face, albeit, remained in his lap and gone back to the travel book on India, she'd been reading then.
Even as the memory stood in her mind, her eyes didn't threaten to spill the stale sorrow that roiled in her. Who was she betraying in having married Arnav, while she held thoughts for another? she asked herself. Arnav or him? Or worse... herself?
"Now, we wouldn't want that, would we?" she heard him right behind her, holding her breath in the event of his surprise arrival, even as he placed his jacket over her shoulder. "You falling sick, on the second day of our marriage."
He came to stand by her side. "I suppose, its going to be another week before you get over the jet lag?" There was a hesitant question in his voice, as if he secretly hoped to hear her voice echo against the still quiet of the night.
She didn't answer him, but gave him a nod in acknowledgement. Her gaze rose to meet his, while she clutched onto the sleeves of his jacket and she saw that his presence held an authoritative severity, afforded by his formal attire, in contrast to the smile that laced his lips.
When he continued to hold her gaze for more a few seconds, she averted her eyes to the lake in front of her, just as unexpected warmth colored her cheeks, despite the chill that lingered in the air. A sudden gale picked up pace, and she pulled on his jacket close to her chest.
"Something's come up back home. I mean Ooty," he began abruptly. "The tea estate union workers have gone on a strike and its best I'm in town, in the event there is unrest during negotiations."
She nodded again. Just then a cold gust blew their way, picking up a few tendrils, that had remained carefully tucked behind her ear, and cast them down on her face.
She didn't see him overcome by an unforeseen tenderness for her slouched form, holding herself tight against the cold of the breaking dawn. She didn't see him raise his hand towards her. Although, when he almost neared to tuck back the loose strands of hair, her eyes turned to him and despite having prepared days for a moment like the one she was in, she flinched unawares and took an instinctive step behind.
Her face broke from the rush of anxiety in having given away her true stand to him. He paused, his hand frozen in mid-air. His eyes showing a comprehension, he hadn't held an instant ago and he retrieved his hand back to his side. He straightened and casting one last glance at her, he turned about to leave her.
"Arnav, please!" she cried in a hurry, hoping to salvage the situation, "will you let me explain?"
Her plea managed to stop him at the door that opened to the patio, albeit only for a brief second. "When you are ready, Kushi," he said, in a measured tone, without looking at her and then walked away.
Closing her eyes, she sighed as a state of chaos broke free inside her. There was nothing to explain, after all. Not after the way she'd expressed her unwelcome to his touch and in turn, to his presence in her life. Had she indulged him, in that simple gesture of his, that showed for his natural fondness for her as his wife, it wouldn't have affirmed anything in the positive and yet, in disallowing him to touch her, she'd perhaps avowed more than she'd like.
"When you are ready." His words came back to her as a taunt. His response to what she believed, he could only perceive as childishness, had been mild and appropriate. Despite the patience that reflected in his voice, given the lack of harshness in his tone, she wasn't sure, if she could ever be ready for their relationship, even if he would give her all the time in the world.
Note: Please send me a friend request, if you wish to receive PMs, post updates.
comment:
p_commentcount