Part 14: Resolution
What sounded like a dozen spoons fell down in the kitchen. Her husband called out, forcing calmness into his voice, that all was under control and that he was managing fine. She laughed to her baby and whispered, "One omlette your papa is making, and there are going to be ten thousand dishes to wash." The baby looked at her curiously, with those wide glassy wonder-filled eyes, and yawned, scrunching up her tiny pink rosebud nose. She continued to change the baby's diaper, amazed, as always, at the amount of love her heart could hold for that little miracle she had brought into the world.
"Amy," her husband said, coming into the bedroom, "phone for you."
Amrita looked up at him, "Who?"
"Your ex-boyfriend."
"Yeah, right," she said, raising her eyebrows. Akshay was always playing pranks on her.
"No, really."
"Prashant? Oh, wow." A flurry of emotions flew all about Amrita, disorienting her. She was happy. But she was also scared, for this was probably that which she had always wanted to postpone, indefinitely. Then she was sad. For him. And predominantly, she was confused. She didn't know what to expect. She wanted to escape time and place and hide in a little protective bubble until the moment passed, or forever, whichever came first. Yes, she wanted to run away.
"Don't act surprised. You're having an affair with him, aren't you?" her husband stated, trying to pretend to be jealous. He couldn't quite pull it off. They knew each other too well for such playful bluffs to be even slightly effective. She knew he was only trying to lighten the atmosphere and relieve her of the unseen tension that her mind was painfully swamped under.
"Yes. Oh oops, I said that out loud," she laughed as she got up to take the call.
"Oh yeah?" Akshay said, blocking the doorway mischievously.
"Yeah. You come back from work so late everyday. What's a bored housewife to do?" Amrita pouted, her hands on her hips.
"Hey, come here, you," he said, tenderly, taking her hand and leaning towards her, his eyes blazing with the intensity that enraptured her and set her heart to pound with nervousness and longing.
"Phone, Akki," she said, feigning exasperation, but the love in her shy smile betrayed her.
"Damn."
"Look after Tannu," she said from the corridor.
"Yes, Ma'am."
Amrita smiled to her heart. Her life was so perfect that when she thought about it, the realisation bewildered her. It was like a fairytale, except that it was real, hence more special. There was a prince, a princess, a little angel. There were dragons too: financial difficulties, skirmishes over the remote control, fights of a more serious nature, infuriating in-laws, and more fights. But valiantly, they overcame everything, with love. So much love. And so, just being with him made all the problems worth it.
Her thoughts and her smile faltered as the phone began edging closer to her. She took a deep breath and took the receiver with a quivering, uncomfortable hand.
"Hello?"
"Hi," came the familiar voice from the other end, "It's Prashant. I hope I didn't disturb. Are you off to work? I can phone later."
Amrita was surprised to sense the ease in his voice. He sounded at peace. It felt like they were talking as friends again, as though it was only yesterday they had had one of those interminable coffee-smelling philosophical discussions. As though nothing had disrupted their friendship.
"Oh no, it's fine. I'm not working currently. I'm on maternity leave."
The moment the words escaped her, she felt her previous discomfort again. She was, after all, his ex-girlfriend and had, as they say, dumped him. They were not friends anymore. She could not possibly tell him everything about her personal life, not without causing him a significant amount of pain.
"Wow! You're going to have a baby?"
"I, um, had her already. Tannu. Tamanna, actually."
"That's great. Wow, that's, wow, that's really great! Congratulations! I am so happy for you."
Her breathing steadied, as she heard the beaming smile in his voice, and realised that her friend was back. There was not a hint of resentment in his words.
"Thanks," she said, returning the smile, but warily, "Um, so you're not upset with me anymore?"
"No, Prashant said firmly, yet kindly, "I've moved on. Finally. That's why I called."
Amrita felt a cool breeze wrap itself around her lovingly, as her heart unclasped itself from the guilt that had been holding it captive for so long. She was so overwhelmed by relief that she felt both faint and elate. Finally, the words she had been so desperately yearning for. But she still had to explain. She knew it would never be truly over until she did.
"I still owe you an explanation though," she said, somewhat more confidently now.
"It's the past, Amrita. It's fine. We don't need to talk about it."
Prashant knew this was hard for her. The reason why he had been unable to detest her after she had left, was because he knew, somewhere in his heart, that she was a good person. To have hurt him so much, would not have been any less painful for her. He wanted both of them to never feel such pain again. He wanted to bury everything away and forget about it.
"The past continues to bear upon the present," she said, slowly, bravely, "It never is truly gone. I've been wanting to talk to you for a long time. I called you after I got married but you hung up. I don't blame you. I knew you needed time. I'm glad you called today. I can finally tell you. I need to tell you. Otherwise there will always be an unresolved issue weighing upon me."
"Tell me what?" he said, but he did not really want to listen. He did not want to remember. After so long, he was living again, and not just existing. He did not want to be visited by ghosts of the dark past.
"You're a very nice person, Prashant. I mean that from the bottom of my heart. I really, very sincerely liked you, and always will. But it has always been a friendship kind of love. I thought you were an intelligent, kind-hearted, fun-loving guy and I liked spending time with you. That's why I was dating you. I thought I loved you, and I told you I did. I wasn't lying, because I didn't know what love really was. Love was what you felt for me. And gradually I realised that I didn't love you. I liked you. As a really good friend. And from there on, every moment I would spend with you became painful. I felt stifled by your love. Even though you loved me unconditionally, I always felt that there was too much that was being expected from me. I could not understand how you could love me so much. I felt unworthy. And I always felt guilty because just meeting you felt like deceit on my part. You never saw my discomfort because you put me on a pedestal up there. You thought I was perfect. And that annoyed me more than anything else. I wanted to break up but I didn't want to hurt you, and I didn't have the courage to... So, I... I kept pretending. I'm sorry. I should have..."
Amrita's words, each and every one of them crashed at his ears like mind-numbing explosives. They echoed painfully through the deafening rush of blood pounding in his ears. He could feel her frustration, her agony, as a lump in his throat that strangled him and refused to be gulped down. She was waiting for him to speak, but his voice had lost itself somewhere in the emotional upheaval. He was the one that had been at fault, not her. What all he had put her through! He had always seen her from an artist's eye, like a muse, perfect in every way. And he had denied her her humanity. He had not seen what she really was. He had been so unfair towards her.
"No," he croaked finally, "No, don't apologise. I was so insensitive. I should be the one saying sorry."
"Stop being nice. I hate it when you're nice. You make me look mean."
"You're not mean. You've just got horrible hair and your taste in shoes seriously sucks."
"What?"
"I'm not being nice."
They both simultaneously broke into laughter, but Amrita was quick to recover. She still had a lot on her mind. She had rehearsed this conversation with herself through so many sleepless nights. She had to unload it all. It was the only way.
"You're still being nice," she said, her tone a gentle rebuke, "You can never be otherwise. I'm really sorry, Prashant, really. I allowed your love for me to grow and deepen. On my side, I tried to feel the same for you. I kept trying to be the person you thought I was, that epitome of perfection. But it was... difficult... I was... so burdened. Yet, I lingered, like a coward, hoping that one day, somehow, without me having to tell you the truth, things will get sorted out by themselves. And then you proposed for marriage. Something snapped in me. I knew I couldn't do this. I felt I had to be firm and merely walked away and broke all contact with you. Truth is, I was too scared to face you. I was incredibly mean, wasn't I?"
"Amrita, you went through so much, and I didn't even know. I'm really very sorry. It's not that I'm being nice. I really feel terrible for what I did to you. Some friend I was! And you're not at fault, Amrita. I mean that. We were just not meant to be. It's like you said when you called me. Fate."
"It was Akshay who told me I should call you," she said, remembering, "But ... quite understandably, you weren't ready to listen then."
"Akshay... your husband?"
"Yes. After we broke up, I met him at work. I was designing the interior of his house for him, and before I realised it, we were both in love with each other. We understood each other so well. I felt like I had met a part of myself. What I could never feel for you, I began to feel for him, naturally, without me trying. I'm sorry, Prashant. I know how it muct have felt. I'd be shattered if Akshay walked out on me. I can't even imagine how... I'm really very sorry for what I did to you. Really."
"Don't apologise. It had to end. It wasn't really a relationship in the first place, was it? I'm genuinely very happy for you, Amrita. And I wish you all the happiness in the world. Akshay seems like a very nice person."
"Do you forgive me?" she asked, desperately, her eyes stinging with hot, pent up, tears.
"No. Because there's nothing to forgive. You did nothing wrong. Love can't be forced on a person. If it's meant to be, it just finds you."
Amrita smiled weakly, brushing away her tears.
"And, um, have you found someone?"
"Yes."
And the word, that one word, suddenly, inexplicably, miraculously brought her the solace that had been eluding her for so long. The world was one again. It all made sense, it all fitted together. Everything was right once more.
"Oh my God, wow!" she exclaimed joyfully, "That's wonderful! That's really wonderful! She's a very lucky person. I mean that, most sincerely."
"Thanks," he smiled.
Yes, it was wonderful. Sandhya was, as they say, the one. She filled his heart with overwhelming hope and happiness. She somehow made him believe in as life as that realm of boundless possibilities. What he felt for her, he had never felt for anyone, not even Amrita. Amrita had always been an abstraction. It was an idea he had in his mind, that he had thought Amrita embodied. But Sandhya, she was just Sandhya. And he loved her for that. There was something magical about her. Something that made him think of her all the time, that made him want to go to the world's end for her, something that made him want to share endless eternities with her.
But, no. He would not commit the same mistake again. He had caused so much pain to Amrita by imposing his love upon her when she didn't love him. Because of him, she had had to feel so uncomfortable, burdened by what she felt she owed him. She had had to suffer every moment spent with him, trying to force herself to love him just to make him happy.
No, he would never tell Sandhya how he felt about her. After all, she had said herself that she felt no love for him. Then why subject her to the pain, the guilt? How could he do that to somebody he loved so much, who had done so much for him? And then, just because he loved somebody, it didn't mean that they had to love him too. It was like Lama Tzu had said, "love is planting a tree and walking away."
To love, is to give.
Akshay smiled at Amrita, fondly.
Edited by _.serendipity._ - 15 years ago
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