Right Time

"Thanks for coming! My phone battery is about to die and I couldn't think of asking anyone else for help. You are a life saver!" she said as she stepped into the car.

I was seeing her after three long years but I could bet she never looked lovelier than tonight. For a fraction of a moment when she was busy wiping her mobile phone, I stole a glance at a lucky water-drop that had rested on her eyelashes.

"God! What's with this unshaven look! Bangalore doesn't seem to have agreed with you!" she laughed, "Some girl left you!?"

"You did!" I teased.

She only rolled her eyes, "You left too. We both did. Don't put all the blame on me!"

We had come so far over all these years. From being strangers to disliking each other, to having some curious attraction, to being friends and then to being something more than friends, to taking a break from each other, finally making peace with the fact that we couldn't 'sever all ties' in her words.

We had never hit the right time together. We knew that we needed different things in life and even after everything had been said and done, we preferred not to tag our feelings with a name, to keep them from crushing under the burden of expectations.

"You've still got the pen with you!?" I asked her in a surprise, spotting the pen among the various items from her purse spread in her lap to dry.

"Yep! It stopped working ages ago though." she said, clicking it open and close fondly.

She had saved the pen for so many years... It was my favourite pen that I had given her away during our school days when she'd said she loved it. Twelve years, I counted.

"You are so crazy about me, aren't you?" I asked her, winking.

"Oh please! Let's not get into that! At least I didn't throw away my favourite black shirt because you didn't like it!" she taunted.

We both smiled at the memory. And then like a colorful and seemingly never ending piece of silk being pulled out from a magician's pocket, the other memories followed.

The Monsoon of the beautiful memories that we had shared and the Monsoon of the memories we couldn't. I had missed her so much. Being around her all the time, talking about any topic, laughing for no reason- why! Everything was so perfect! It always was! How the hell we never managed to hit the right time!! In-between the words and the silences, ambitions and confusions, to be's and not to be's, time had done what it did the best.

I had pulled the brakes a while ago, outside her home.

"Oh I should go. Getting late!" she said, consulting her watch and turning to pull the door knob.

I hated her watch for running so fast tonight.

Even the windshield wipers seemed to move frantically as if gesturing her not to leave.

"What! I came so far on your single say-so! I am getting to see you after three years! I am not even getting a hug?" I asked her, trying to sound casual about it.

She turned around to stare at me, smiled at me serenely and pulled me close in a hug. Several water droplets in her hair fell on my arm that responded instantly with goosebumps.

I could hear her calm breath against the muffled sound of drizzle outside. I did not know how long we stayed like that.

"You had to go." I whispered.

"Mmmm..." She clutched me a little tighter before letting go.

"Bye." she said finally, breaking apart and not really meeting my eyes, "It's too late."

The King of Hearts

"Oh you play Cards?" she asked, curiously eyeing a pack of playing cards in his hands.

He was surprised at the momentary flicker of interest in her eyes.

"Yes. And I play pretty well." He said, "I don't think you can, can you?" He teased her, hoping the spark of interest in her eyes stayed a little longer.

"Of course I do, " she said, arms folded across her chest, with her nose in the air, "Dad taught me. I am really good."

Had he touched the right spot finally!

She was a mystery he hadn't been able to solve. To an outsider they were a perfect couple, just married- with a right amount of awkwardness and the beauty of the novelty. Of course they weren't in love, yet. There was something about her, something that made her unapproachable. She never talked much. It could easily pass off as her shyness, but he knew there was some transparent barrier that existed between them. Even when they made love, she seemed restrained, as if guarding a secret corner of her heart. He felt almost annoyed at her, when she went to sleep with her back at him coiling her body like a shell. She was being a dutiful wife all the time, no doubt- she smiled when she was supposed to, blushed when she was supposed to. However none of the emotions reached her steely eyes.

Today was the first day her face was lit up and he only wished he could strike some conversation before she shut herself down again.

"A game of Mendikot?" He challenged, brandishing the pack of Cards before her.
She hesitated but relented in the end.

With favourable Cards in his hand, he knew it would have been an easy victory. Nevertheless she showed him she did know the game really well. With each of her moves, he realised her mask of restraint was melting while she bit her lip thinking her next move, gave him a complacent smile after winning a turn, snorted at his poor deliveries, which quite unknown to her, were deliberate.

"Yesss!" she said triumphantly when she grabbed two cards of Ten in a single turn, tossing her hair back in the most boastful way.

"Oh." he acted stupid, faking disappointment.

"You are so poor at this! This is going to be the Kot on you, you see!" she smirked smugly.

He stole glances at her from above the cards he held in her hands.

The King of Hearts fell from his hands and landed upside down.
"You had this!" she said bewildered, picking up the card, "Then why did you..."

A look of sudden realisation replaced her joy before he could stop it.

"You were letting me win." she said suddenly getting up and starting to leave, "Why!"

Her face was contorted in anger or in pain- he couldn't tell.

He only stayed silent.

"Tell me why!" she demanded, her face flushed red.

"For THIS!" he lost his composure, "To see some emotion in you! Why are you so..." he searched for a word, "CLOSED!"

She stared at him in shock, opened her mouth to say something and closed it again.

"You think I don't understand!?? Please tell me if I am doing something wrong! Is something bothering you!? Just speak up! This isn't what I'd signed up for. I don't want a dutiful wife, I don't want a partner just to have sex with! You've made me helpless. I keep seeking chances to strike a conversation! I come to help you with the dishes every night after dinner to spend some good time with you! And you just leave to clean the living room or you suddenly remember you have to fold the clothes!" he blurted out without a thought and looked at her.

She was shaking slightly, looking away like a timid doe.

"God. I didn't mean to..." he said coming to his senses, exasperated, pulling at his hair in frustration, "I am sorry. I just hate not knowing you, sleeping next to you every night but not being able to figure out what's going on in your head! I could do better.. I promise. You can talk."

He made her sit down with her hands in his and stared at her, squeezing her palms gently.

She looked up at him, as if fighting a hard battle with herself, contemplating if she should go back to her shell.

The next second she started sobbing, resting her head on his shoulder. Not knowing what to do, he just put an arm around her who now shook like a banana tree in the strong wind.

"I am sorry," she spoke up, with her sentences punctuated with sobs, "I just... I had forgotten to trust. I am just scared of being unhappy again! I thought I could look after myself and I did not need anyone to... make me feel better. I didn't realise how unfair I was being to you... I can't do this. I don't want to be strong anymore... I don't want to be in control of my emotions anymore! I want to be able to vulnerable again... I want to take a chance again. I want to give us a chance...."

She made a little sense but he could see the complete picture now.

She was a broken woman and he had to be a restorer.

He put both of his arms around her while his shirt collar stained of her tears. For the first time, she had her arms around him. The King of Hearts was clutched in her fist.

Production Issue

"Daddy! Daddy!!" she came running at him as his wife opened the door to let him in.

He kneeled down to hug his daughter and the headache that had persisted the whole day disappeared suddenly.

"How come my Princess is awake so late?" he asked, looking at his wife.

"She wouldn't listen! Said she wanted to show her dance to you tonight." his wife said exasperated, "When she felt sleepy, she took walks from bedroom to hall! Twenty rounds, she even counted like her teacher taught."

He ruffled his Princess's hair, kissed her cheeks and lifted her on his back.

His wife smiled contentedly and he smiled back at her.

"These Production Issues at office, it's been so much work!" he told his wife who patted his back sympathetically.

He was talking to his daughter after about a month now. Every night he returned home seeing his daughter sleeping disappointed after waiting too long for her Daddy.

His phone vibrated in his pocket.
A call from office.
He sighed deeply and handing his daughter to her mother, he picked up.

Urgent Production Issue again. He clutched his head in despair and anger as he saw the smile on wife's face faltering.

"A Production Issue. They have called me back to office. I could work from home but entire team is coming.. So..." he told the wife.

With heavy heart he looked at his daughter and the disappointment in her eyes.

"I have to go, Princess! I will tell Mom to get your video for me to see, alright?" he said with a wavering smile and lifted the car keys from the table.

He couldn't make it before his daughter's school bus in the morning. There was no video of course, his Princess had refused to dance and gone to sleep with swollen eyes, his wife told him sadly as he left for office in the afternoon.
--------------------------------------

His phone vibrated. A call from home.

His fingers moved like a machine on the keyboard, typing another urgent mail to the client. He balanced the phone between his ear and a shoulder.

"Daddy?"

His daughter whispered in a hoarse voice from the other end and coughed.

'Don't disturb your Daddy, Princess! He has a lot of work at office!' he heard his wife in the background.

"Oh my Princess! Are you not feeling well?"

"No, Daddy!" she said in the cutest of her tones, "I have poluction ishu. Can you come home?"

It took him a moment to decipher her.

Production Issue, she had said.

The noise of the keyboard stopped as his heart ached for his daughter.

"Sorry, I gotta go. I feel really sick today!" he told his boss and ignoring several heads that turned in his direction, he left almost running.

He had the most important Production Issue to take care of.

The List

Her phone rang and she hurried towards it, banging her small toe twice on the furniture on the way.

"Hey! I missed you so much!"

His voice already had the soothing effect. She forgot about her smarting small toe.

"Me too!"

"We've got only fifteen minutes. I have to get back soon. Now tell me how your day was. You'd messaged you had so many things to tell me! I want to know everything!"

She went on about every small detail of her day. They laughed together at the funny things that happened to her and cursed her colleagues whom she hated.

"and what was that 'the most funniest' thing you wanted to tell?"

"Oh! I don't remember!" she racked her brain impatiently, eyes closed hard.

"Oh man. How could you forget! Now I can't stop wondering what that could be!"

"What do I do! I had so much to tell I forgot that!"

"Oh yes," he said, "Here's an idea. From now on, you list down the things that you want to tell me, that way you will remember."

"I always make a mental note!" she huffed.

"Not a mental note, stupid! You write down the things. Maintain a list."

She laughed hard.
"Let's see. Such a geeky idea! No wonder it came from you!" she teased.

"Perks of falling for a geek. You are welcome."

She found herself following the geeky idea.

-The bright yellow flowers she found on the way to office (They hung like delicate strings on the tree.)
-A tiny error in the calculation of the accounts at office (She had spent hours in figuring out.)
-The pathetic taste of Pulaav she tried to cook (She hated going in the kitchen anyway.)
-The all new incident of dumbness of her hot colleague (That was a funny story, he would laugh his head off over that!)
-How much she loved him and missed him

The last item was always constant in her List.
-----------------------------------------

Over the time, his calls dwindled down. Every time her phone rang, she hurried to check the caller name.

Every time she realised it wasn't him, her heart sank terribly.

The items on her List kept piling up.

She would do that religiously, no matter what. Things would soon turn normal, she tells herself.

One day he left. And with him left her faith and hope.

Still.

Her brain instinctively makes the mental note of the things she wishes to tell him and her hands unmistakably move to the Notes in her mobile whenever anything interesting happens, to add to her List.

The List stops growing. Maybe nothing interesting happens to her anymore. Maybe she doesn't find anything interesting.

She wishes he comes back. She has a lot of things to tell him already.

Choice

She felt mortified, totally mortified. She could feel the eyes of the crowd on her back. Some sympathetic, some pitiful, some disgusted, some mocking. A few of them did an audible 'tch tch' full of pity and others murmured in excitement of getting a new topic for gossip.

She shook her husband who rumbled dully. His words came indistinct and the stench of alcohol almost made her throw up. Some of the mud on his clothes strained her Saree.

Through the corner of an eye, she saw her superior from the office eyeing her in a mild surprise. She straightened her purse and gave him an embarrassed smile.

"Husband?" he asked curiously.
"Hm."

If only one could die of embarrassment...

With all the might she had, she pulled her husband to his feet. He stumbled and started pushing her away. For a moment she felt a surge of anger so terrible that she wanted to throw him back on the ground. She called for an auto, forced her protesting husband in and left, watching the crowd spread off.

She was done crying long ago. This wasn't new to her anymore. Every other day her alcoholic husband would disappear and she would search for him once she was back from office.

She worked endlessly. Office work and a small catering business she ran from her house to add to her modest income to make the ends meet. With every hundred rupees note she earned and hid under the bed, inside the folds of the old clothes and back of the stove to keep it safe from her husband, she worried a little less about that month's school-fees of her daughter she had sent to another town.

No time to cry or regret. No time to tend her sore back. No time to stop and rest. No time to feel complacent when she realised her small business grew bigger day by day. No time to notice neighbours' looks of pity turning into those of envy.

While the actresses in her nation made creative videos to define feminism by the freedom to wear the clothes a woman wants and to have sex by woman's own choice, she always told her daughter that the simple women like herself have a little choices and many compromises.

She felt very proud when her daughter said, "Who says you are simple, Mother! You are my role model!"

- Based on a true story of a simply extraordinary woman I happened to hear from recently.

Routine

'I had ordered one black coffee with no sugar!' she says to the canteen-guy a little irritably.

How on earth people make such mistake with such a simple order!

She hates to break her routine that her coffee- the way she likes it, kicks off every morning.

She throws the coffee away and turns to the vending machine in office to help herself to green tea, taking two minutes to search for her usual brand of tea.

She is so particular about everything, never moving an inch from her planned routine.

It's never 09:00 am until cubicles in her office hear the sharp sound of her high heels. Always the same hairstyle, hair twisted in a tight bun as if she never lets her hair down. Literally and figuratively.

No breakfast at office, it isn't a part of her routine.

Her daily meetings and status calls, always at the same predefined time, the same 'good morning's and 'thank you very much's in the same tone as everyday. Without a change.

Lunch at exactly 02:00 pm. Tossed Salad only. As planned. Again routine.

Every evening she is home at 08:00 pm.
Every night- 09:00 pm, dinner. Simple light dinner because you know- She is health conscious.

And as per her routine she gets into the bed at 10:30 pm. Never late.

Then lying in bed, she remembers him.

Memories march towards her with sharp footsteps.

Tik-Tok. Tik-Tok. Tik-Tok.

Like sound of her stilettoes around the cubicles at 09:00 am.

She tries to figure out what she could have done differently to make him stay.

Every night.

Every night, her routine is ruined like this when she goes to sleep at the wee hours of the morning.

And what an irony it is, even her memories have routine.

Every night, 10:30 pm. Tik-Tok. Tik-Tok.

Diamond Rings and Other Things

She came home a little late that evening. Rubbing her sweaty forehead, cursing the heat, she sank into a chair, fanning herself with her hand.

For about five minutes, she ranted about her day like she did every evening- how annoying her boss was and how she didn't get time for lunch.

Oh boy! She talks so much. Continuously. And so dramatically.

He loves it nevertheless. The way she rolls her eyes while talking, flares her nostrils, shrugs, throws her mane back with an almost unnoticeable shake of her neck.

"Hey..." He started, clearing his throat.

He didn't know how to make it sound romantic like the hero in her favourite movie nor did he know beautiful words she would love to hear.

Many times he had wondered if she would get bored of him or she was already! Was he too plain and predictable for her? Did she secretly crave for romantic surprises like every woman? He always stared at her while they watched her favourite romantic movies on TV. She would have an innocent dreamy smile on her face, her eyes gleaming at the happy couple on screen. He wished he could make her smile like that. He wished he could afford diamond rings, candlelit dinners every other night and holidays on the blue green beaches. Just to see her smile through the tears of happiness.

She looked at him curiously, her eyes bulged in quite a childlike way.

He opened his closed palms and held them before her.

A bunch of tiny Madhumalati flowers. Pink and white frail petals with delicate long stems. Just like those in her phone wallpaper he knew she loved. He had collected them on the way home that evening, from a small vine growing on a building gate.

"Oh! From where did you..." she exclaimed and stood up to face him. He shuffled his feet nervously.

"I never really got you a nice gift or a surprise since we got married... In fact I couldn't give you anything better than what you already had. This house for example. I promise I would afford the diamond rings for your fingers one day," he whispered, "but till then... All I can say is I really love you."

She giggled with the tears shining in her eyes, just like- he particularly remembered- when she had watched one of the female characters proposing the guy in her favourite show FRIENDS the other day.

He had turned her speechless tonight. She just kept looking away, smiling. For the first time he realised her weird habit of averting eyes and rubbing the tip of the nose when she was emotional. All that incessant blabber was just a cover for her emotional self that she kept hidden.

She picked up the flowers from his hands, put them aside and buried her head in his chest.

He giggled, smelled her hair to his heart's content and kissed the top of her head. The fragrance of Madhumalati- not sweeter than her hair's though, tickled his heart. Tonight he was going to let her know what she meant to him. Unlike her, in fewer words.