The Message

It had all started with that small piece of paper.

Maya was taking his shirt out for washing when the folded slip of paper had flipped out of Anit’s pocket. She recognised Anit’s crabbed handwriting, but the passion and intensity etched on the tiny slip were completely alien to the man she so intimately knew for so many years.

When she asked Anit about it, he just smiled and said in a dismissive tone that it was just like any of his other idle doodling, nothing else.

But the worm of unease had started to move inside her heart.

One morning, a few weeks later, while tidying the bed, Maya saw that Anit had left his phone, as he had gone out on some small errand. As she was moving away, the screen came to life and the message tone beeped. Maya noticed that the sender was one ‘Raatri’. Feeling curious, she scrolled through the message thread. The thread was long, ranging to months. Anit had been sharing music, poetry he had apparently written and many a jingle on his mouth organ with Raatri. The reciprocation was equally soulful and passionate. There was not a single hint of any improper relation in the messages, nor even of any clandestine rendezvous. But almost each message was taut with emotion, a baring of soul that strained for the sky, but cried at the shackles.

Maya felt a strange numbness in her heart.

Of late, Maya thought, Anit was keeping more to himself. He had always been an introvert, but these days he seemed to be ensconced in a cocoon deep within and Maya found it increasingly difficult to penetrate. They used to have their normal share of quarrels and outbursts of passion. But nowadays, Anit would simply shrug off their misunderstandings and immerse himself in his music or poetry or painting. Playing the harmonica and painting used to be casual hobbies for him, which were verging to obsession.

The signs were there all these time. Had she been too naïve to overlook them? Was this the curtain call for their relationship? Was Anit drifting away from her?

Before talking to Anit on the matter, Maya decided to make discreet enquiries with her cousin, Sanjay. He was also a friend and colleague of Anit. In fact, it was Sanjay who had introduced Anit to Maya, years back, when they were still in their early youth. They had a fairly long courtship before marrying. Sanjay, then, had often been the buffer between Maya’s conservative family and the two young souls craving for each others’ company.

Maya called up Sanjay and told her that she needed to discuss an urgent issue with him, alone.

A little mystified, he agreed nonetheless. Seated across the table in quiet little restaurant, Maya waited for Sanjay to become comfortable before blurting out her suspicions and findings. She had to stifle the sobs that were coiling up her throat.

Sanjay looked highly discomfited after she had finished. They discussed for long, but it was his parting words that stayed in Maya’s mind.

“Maya, I’m not sure whether to worry about you or Anit. From whatever you’ve said, even if Anit has found a soul mate to share his poetries or music, what’s wrong in that? Had he been sharing the same with me, would you have reacted in this way? Anit is not the adulterous type. He will always remain an idealist. What you need to worry is why he is not sharing them with you.”

Alone in their house, Sanjay’s words kicked up a maelstrom of disjointed thoughts.

Was she over-reacting?

An engineer by trade, Anit had a distinct bent towards creative arts. Painting, music and theatre were his ‘sustenance for soul’, by his own admission. He had often tried to engage Maya into discussion pertinent to his interests. Maya felt they were too esoteric for her. Her mind, practical and discerning, refused to factor in the temporal ethereality of things, all and sundry. ‘Romancing the stone’ was not her cup of tea. She did go to art shows, theatres and music soirees with Anit at times, but rarely experienced the surge of emotion that otherwise bound creative souls in resonance.

The fact that Anit was not sharing his creations with her, was probably her fault as well. She could clearly recall so many times Anit wanted to read his poetries or writings to her or show his watercolours. She had little patience to listen to or even watch closely.

Her world was completely revolving around her profession, their house, their family and their social responsibilities.

Anit always said that the way she balanced between her commitments as a professional and a homemaker was commendable.  Their house was beautifully decorated. Touring was their mutual passion and she had a special knack for collecting items of beauty and grace from different places in the country that they visited. There wasn’t a speck of dust on her furniture. Her terrace garden bloomed glorious in all seasons. Anit always proudly declared to any guests who appreciated the décor that all choices and ideas were of Maya alone and that she managed them singlehandedly.

Had she been equally appreciative of Anit? He had made their home a happy one, where fun, music and laughter reigned. Did she fail to gauge Anit’s feelings?

Maya thought of the time they spent together every day. Busy professionals both, the time of their daily interaction was short and almost always in the late evenings, when they were both spent after the days work. Matters, small and big, all needed to be discussed anyways. Anit had a distinct aversion to discussing money matters. Her practicality and his idealistic lines of thinking were in direct contrast at times, particularly in social context. Anit, refused to discuss about the meanness shown by someone else, saying that discussing about small mindedness puts some of it in their own minds. Maya had no such qualms and often bitter disagreement would rise. Anit would wrap up most of such discussions by just clamming up with a wry grin and recede to the refuge of his books and music

Was she guilty of trying to change Anit from his natural self?

Her inner debate yielded little result, and the uneasiness did not leave her mind at all.

Things came to boil at Anit’s office party a few days later.

As a senior mentor, Anit was in the organizing team and had reached the venue early.

Weekend traffic had ensnared Maya. When she finally managed to reach, the party was already in swing. As she walked into the plush Mughal Room at The Oberoi, she found Anit in deep conversation with a woman.

She was a slim, dusky lady, with flashing eyes and a radiant smile. There appeared to be a comfortable companionship between them. They were talking animatedly as if the din of the party was just a murmur in the backdrop. As Maya approached, Anit turned and espied her and his face lit up.

“There you are, at last…!!!.Saturday traffic is murder in these parts..”

He took her by her elbow and guided her towards the woman he was talking to. Introducing her, he said, “Maya, here’s Rajani Nair. She has joined our company in my team about six months back. Rajani, meet Maya, my wife..”

Rajani smiled at Maya and said, “Good evening Maya, hope you didn’t mind me keeping Anit engaged all this time. He was worrying about your delay”. As they started an idle chit chat, Maya felt as if Rajani was trying to measure her up. Suddenly an understanding dawned on Maya and a cold shiver went through her body. Rajani and Ratri meant the same in Sanskrit. Her woman’s intuition assimilated the rest effortlessly.

‘What the hell is going on between my husband and this bitch?’ Maya was almost ready to burst.

To compose herself, she moved away on the pretext of meeting Sanjay.

From the cover of the milling crowd, Maya watched them keenly. Rajani was not beautiful in the conventional fashion. She was dusky, with regular features. But her eyes…she had extraordinary eyes. They sparkled with an innate light. As she was speaking to Anit, Maya felt more than she saw, the soft smile playing on both their lips. They seemed to be fully comfortable with each other, with the easy familiarity that comes when two persons enjoy each others’ company wholeheartedly. Rajani was wearing a simple blue salwaar and some matching ethnic junk jewellery. “She is attractive, not voluptuous… but definitely attractive” thought Maya.

The rest of the night felt like slow torture to Maya. Anit was attentive and caring as ever, but she had a heart-burn seeing the easy conversations and spontaneous joy in each other actions between Anit and Rajani.

Back at home, Anit said that they had an important client meet at Mumbai and he will be travelling with his team, as usual. They would be flying out next day evening and would need to stay back for around 3 days.

Maya could no longer contain her irritation. She turned on Anit and asked rather slantly, “Oh, is it? Who all are going this time?”

Anit answered, surprised, “It’ll be Guru, Ajay and Rajani. But why are you asking?”

Maya couldn’t keep the harshness from her voice, “When I see my husband cozying up to another woman, and then planning to go for a trip to cavort with her, I do need to ask, don’t I?”

Stumped, Anit blurted, “What do you mean? Another woman??!! What’s wrong Maya?”

“What is wrong, Anit? You and your beloved ‘Raatri’, that’s what is wrong.. Do you think I am blind? She was all over you and you enjoyed every bit of it. You’ve opened your soul to her. Why did you never do that to me?”

Anit’s expression was cold, as he said quietly, “Maya, you are distraught. I’m sorry if I am the cause of it. But for heavens sake, don’t demean me like this. Further, you are sullying someone else, without knowing the facts”.

Maya’s bitterness boiled over, “What else do I need to know, Anit? Is not Rajani your heartthrob ‘Ratri’? Do you deny that? Don’t you tell me about sullying others. I could feel that the bitch has an eye for you. You two have been wallowing in romance like two teenagers. One just needs to have a look into the messages you have exchanged. If I am distraught, it is because I wouldn’t like to lose my husband to that harlot”.

Anit was at a loss for words.

Finally, he spoke up. “Maya, it is right that Rajani is Ratri, that is her pseudonym in different social media. It is not exclusive for me. Yes, we do share material of common interest and feelings. Rajani happens to be a theatre lover like me, besides being a fairly good writer. She has been contributing to several magazines and literary papers. But she’s not my heartthrob, as you claim. Maya, I’m married to you and these kind of thoughts have never entered my mind. Do not hurt yourself and me by imagining demons when there aren’t any”.

The soft reasoning in his voice could not soothe Maya’s troubled mind, as the memory of Anit and Rajani laughing together in sheer happiness, in each other’s company, was still too raw and fresh in her memory. “Don’t take me for a fool, Anit. You have been growing distant from me all these time. I can’t write poetry or spout intellectual quotations. I listen to music that is simple. I cannot comment on all the latest trends in modern literature. Only thing I’ve known is to love and trust you. But now you have placed me nowhere. I only wish that you’d have told me earlier. It would have eased my pain somewhat”.

Anit’s fair countenance went red with emotions. Controlling his voice with a visible effort, he quietly said, “Maya, I love you for what you are. There is no one between us. There never had been and there never will be anyone there. Yes, I like Rajani as a person. But that has got nothing to do with our relation”. As he tried to take Maya’s hand in his, she jerked her hand away in a disgusted manner.

In hurt silence Anit turned away.

Maya felt like reaching out and apologise for her outburst. But pride stayed her hand. She saw Anit linger for a moment, as if waiting for some soft words, but when they were not forthcoming, he slowly went out to their open terrace, overlooking the park. She knew soon he’ll try to lose himself in either his books or his music.

Rage, regret and sorrow played hide and seek in her mind. As sleep finally soothed her troubled brows, she noticed that Anit had yet not come to bed.

The next day, the soft lilt of Chaurasia’s flute caressed Maya awake from her sleep. ‘Anit must have put the CD on the turntable’, she thought. The gentle tones of raga Behaag swirled around her.

The soft, mellow feeling of the fresh dawned morning was still on her, as she walked into the kitchen to find her husband steeping tea.

The rich flavour of Darjeeling tea wafted in the air. Quietly, she sat on a stool and watched Anit going through the meticulous routine of heating the cups, straining the brew, putting in the sugar cubes and stirring them in, humming softly to the music.

Watching Anit go about his chores, she thought how gracefully he has been aging. He was still attractive, and the ravages of time that caused the odd wrinkles in the skin and streaks of silver in his hair almost created an aura around him.

Anit turned and smiled, setting a cup before her, he said, ‘I felt your presence before I sensed it. Here’s your cuppa. Black with two sugars…’

His smile looked mechanical. It did not touch his eyes.

Maya regretted her outburst last night. Easygoing person as he was, Anit seemed to be genuinely hurt deep inside. She wanted to say sorry to Anit. But she just couldn’t seem to find the opening lines.

Maya wrapped her fingers around the cup, as if to stop the warmth from going away. She wished that she could do something similar to prevent the warmth seeping away from their relationship

As Anit prepared to leave for his business trip, Maya’s uneasiness increased. Was she pushing him more towards Rajani by being rude and suspicious? She was still debating with herself, when Anit bade her goodbye. As she stood on their balcony and watched his taxi roll away, the bright tail lights seemed to blink mockingly at her.

Anit had sent a message that they had reached, but had not called, as he usually did.

She decided against calling him as she knew he would be in meetings and discussions and would not receive calls. Suddenly, on an impulse, she picked up her phone and typed, “I’m sorry for what happened last night. Can we make a new start? I love you……….Maya”, and she sent the whatsapp message to Anit, and waited for the reply.

Evening grew to night and the night to the next day and the next day to the day after. There was no reply. Every beep and tinkle in her mobile put a tremor in her heart. Her feelings rode the crests of hope and troughs of desperation.

She willed herself to not check her phone to see if he had replied. It had been about three days now. She hated that she was constantly checking his ‘last seen at’ status and yes, he had logged in just five minutes ago. Yet she couldn’t stop herself. This sinking feeling to find absolutely no communication from him was becoming unbearable, almost torturous.

And then, just as she sat down in her chair, her phone vibrated. With her heart thudding in her ear, she unlocked her phone and stared at the screen. Finally! It was his message.

But when she opened it and read it, she nearly stopped breathing. She didn’t know if he was joking or not. What was this?

The text was simple and stark, “No Maya………. We can’t. We are too far gone……….”

A numbing chill coursed through her veins. The screen blurred in her eyes. Tears welled from her eyes and coursed down her cheek.

The phone beeped once more.

Maya looked at the screen almost uncomprehendingly. It was Anit’s message again.

“How do we make a new start when nothing has changed between us?… Last three days were mayhem…I did not want to reply till I was in the right mental state….Of course, if you insist, I’ll marry you all over again…Meet you in the evening… Love you… Anit”

When she had controlled the sobs that wracked her body, Maya got up and washed her face. She smiled at the apparition at the mirror who looked at her with red, swollen eyes and distraught hair.

She picked up her phone and dialled the florist first. She knew what she’d do.

There was a lot of mending to be done.