Of Love & Choices

Tired. Less from lifting the luggage, more from the scamper inside, he sat on the bed. His world was about to change. It was about to become new, refreshing, energized .. happier. Ironically, the other world, sitting just across the bed, was undergoing an exact reverse process. It was breaking down. Piece by piece. Ruthlessly. They just sat there, staring into the infinite abyss.

Her :

I dont know what happened. Everything was so perfect. The suddenness of it is even more painful than the crisis itself. What did I do to deserve this? Unconditional Love? Unconditional Commitment? Was that my fault? How can a momentary infatuation outstrip an age-old relation?

Him :

All this makes me look like a villain. Leaving her. Dreaming on my own for once. Planning a happy life. But I am not. I am not the villain here. Why doesnt she understand? Things change. Love fades. I cant be with her forever.

The Movers-N-Packer’s worker hit a wall corner while lifting the study-table. A piece of paint fell down. The whole paint in the house had scraped down with time. So unlike the bright and shiny color that ligthened their newly bought apartment 5 years ago. The paint had lost its glow, its inherent dazzle. There were two solutions. Re-paint the house or Burn it down to pieces. “How could you even consider that second option”, logic said. “Who are you?“, replied impatience.

Her :

What am I supposed to do now? I never made a plan. I never had time to make a plan. I was busy by him, with him, for him. He was my plan. But now, the band-aid of trust is ripped off. And the wound of dependency hurts.

Him :

I am not being unfair. What if I dont leave? Will that be fair to Anjali? To the girl there, who’s waiting for me with bated breath in our new apartment. She loves me too right? If I anyway have to be unfair to someone eventually, I better look out for my convenience too. And that’s not me being selfish, that’s me being rational.

“This too saab?” questioned the worker pointing to his huge portrait.

“No let it be here”, he replied.

He left the portrait there thinking of her. A parting gift maybe. Quite a responsibility the portrait had taken over. To stand for her, to comfort her, to take care of her, to love her.

Her :

I remember, he once got angry with me and went away just like this. Within hours, he had come back. Of course there are fights in relationships. But, you figure out a way. You always do. Maybe then, his needs superseded his anger. And now, his anger is convenient.

Him :

I am not joyous by this either. She was my whole world once. Because of her, I am what I am. I can never forget how she was always there. How she gauged my emotional state by just a glance. Nobody can ever understand me the way she does. I know I owe her.

His phone buzzed. Anjali was calling. Her pic zoomed through his smartphone. She was young. She was beautiful. She was convenient. He swiped to the red icon. Her pic faded away. If only this was real life. If only you could fade someone away just by a swipe.

Her :

Oh he just ignored her call! May be he still loves me more. May be I can still stop him. I will just say “I wont eat if you go”. That always worked! But, will he stop willfully or will he stop only for me. I dont want him to be unhappy.

Him :

This is really painful. Should I just stop? How can I do this to her? May be I can bring Anjali here. No, that would be absurd! These two will kill each other. I better go now, before I change my mind again.

The tempo honked horn. It was ready to go. He got down. She came to the balcony. An old man was describing the route to the driver. He turned back and waved his hand. Her tears waved back. He touched the old man’s feet. “Good-bye father. Take care of her”, he said. “She will be all right. You take care of my daughter-in-law”, father replied. He couldnt gather courage to turn back and face her. The gulp in his throat monarched him ahead. New flat, good job, beautiful wife, independent life. Wasnt this all he ever wanted! Just a small price to pay for it. The first woman of his life. His mother.