It was the first thought that came to her as she woke up. He
was gone. And, soon, this bedroom, the house in whose eastern corner it sat,
and the tiny garden outside with its gnarled old red hibiscus and the
half-grown mango tree they had planted together, all those would be gone as
well. It was the strangest feeling ever. A strange sinking feeling engulfed Madhura.
It was a rented house and Madhura would
no longer be able to afford to live in this big house with her meagre salary.
She would have to look for a smaller place to stay. She had already informed
her land lady that she would be vacating
the house by the month end. Madhura no longer had tears in her desert eyes. A
gnawing pain in her heart kept her awake at night. The desert eyes no longer
shed a tear. The excruciating pain within the heart could never find its way
till the eyes. The bright smile on the lips was just an excuse for not breaking
down, the smile on the lips was nothing more than a masquerade to shield the
gaping wound deep within the heart. The hollow laugh could not camouflage the
pain within. When being strong is the only option left then tears have no place
in one's life. When pain makes us numb then tears fail us. The silent sleepless
nights, the sudden awakening in the middle of the night with nothing to break
the silence of the eerie night other than the deep sigh and feeling of
hopelessness. The lingering moon light would create mysterious silhouettes.
She remembered the last time she had seen him on the morning
of that fateful day. He was dressed for office, he looked a little lost, a little
agitated, not his usual composed self. Arun had avoided looking at her straight
in the eye. He had waved a cursory
goodbye before leaving for office, never to return again. “It is Friday Madhura,
you do not really need to pack my lunch,
I will go out for lunch with my team”.
Arun had said when Madhura had handed him his lunch box for the last time. That
night Madhura had returned to an empty home. She remembered the WhatsApp
message she had received that evening, "Hi Madhura, as I had informed you
a week back, I do not wish to carry on with our marriage
and hence I am moving out of the house.
Please do not try to contact me". Madhura was not surprised with the
message, although she had tried her best to evade the truth but the truth had all along glared at her in the face, her
marriage was over. After all, since quite some time, there had not been much
left in her marriage, she had never conceived, even after four years of their marriage, her womb remained barren. There was
no bond or ties left between Arun and Madhura. Since quite some time Arun had
been insisting for a divorce. He had different reasons at different times.
Arun’s parents too were not really fond
of Madhura.
"Madhura, this is not meant to be, we are not meant to be together. I do not love you any more, its
over" exclaimed an agitated Arun. “Moreover
I am an only son and you have not been
able to please my parents, they do not like you at all”. “I will try harder to
please them Arun, please give me one chance”
said Madhura in desperation. “I want a DIVORCE” screamed Arun. Madhura looked
at Arun with a glassy expression as if she had not been able to decipher the
simple letters. This was her Arun, her
husband of the past four years, she had
never imagined a day without him and here was he really talking of separation?
"Madhura, try and understand, I love Anjali
and I want to marry her, you cannot really force me to live with you". She nodded her head in silent submission, she could not really force Arun to live with her. A sudden
thought crept to her mind, maybe she had
failed Arun, maybe she had failed
somewhere as a wife, as a daughter-in-law. Maybe she could try and be a better
wife, a better daughter-in-law.
"Arun, please let’s give it another try, we can make it work out,
Madhura pleaded. "It’s over Madhura, please
try and understand, if I have to live with you, I will have to commit suicide,
shouted Arun.
“Arun, I am pregnant” Madhura had declared on a Sunday
morning, exactly a month before Arun had left her forever, never to return
again. She was holding the pregnancy test strip in her hand. She had expected
Arun to be surprised, if not happy. But he was shocked. He paced the floor in
agitation. He held the strip and tried to uncover some flaw in the test. Finally he declared in a determined voice “It
still does not change my decision, I want a divorce. If there is a ‘baby’ I
will take the baby’s custody in future”. The next few days were an agony to
Madhura. The frequent visits to the hospital was taking a toll on her. The sight of happy couples, the husband helping his pregnant wife to a
seat brought a sudden twinge of sadness. She felt alone. She had hoped some
where in the most remote corner of her heart that Arun would offer to accompany
her to the doctor. Madhura knew that she could be having a miscarriage as she
was bleeding. She had hoped Arun would want to save the baby with as much
intensity as she had wished. After all, ever since she got married all she had
wanted was a baby. She had promised the ‘tiny speck’, the ‘little one’ that she
would not let any harm befall on it. She had started bleeding a bit every day.
The innumerable visits to the hospital, the tests, were taking a toll on her.
Arun did not bother to drive her to the hospital or even accompany her to the
hospital.
“Bleeding in pregnancy is not normal Madhura, it could be an
ectopic pregnancy which can actually be fatal or it might be a chemical induced
pregnancy” the doctor warned. Madhura stared at the doctor in a dazed manner.
“Please god, please save my baby”.
Madhura sat on the bathroom floor holding the grey clump of
clot in her hand, she let the blood ooze out along with the silent tears in her
eyes. She bled out the last remnant of her ‘little one’ and bid it goodbye forever.
It had been a week since Arun had left. The cramp she felt in her abdomen was
not as painful as the pang in her heart. She somehow felt relieved. Arun had said
that he would fight for the custody of the baby if it survived and she did not
really want her baby to arrive in such a cruel, loveless world where it would
be treated as a property and not as an individual.
A month had passed since then. Madhura had moved on. She had moved to a smaller house. The bare
feet on the wet grass, the disheveled hair falling all over the face, the
creased white slightly smeared lucknow chikan kurta, the freedom to look
unkempt and not the usual prim and proper self and the freedom of being happy
without being questioned is a totally new and a liberating experience for
Madhura. She had not experienced this happiness since a long time. The evening
park was buoyant with the chirpy sound of merriment of the children playing in
the park. A distant sound of the flute brings back a lot of lost memories. A
long forgotten song played on her lips, she hummed the tune but the words had
been long forgotten, her brows furrowed as she tried to recall the long
forgotten song. She remembered singing this song along with her mother as a
child on the thunderous nights spent in her quaint home in the small town on
the foothills, sitting beside the glowing hurricane lantern.
Madhura took a deep breath and inhaled the sweet fragrance
of her newly acquired freedom. A smile crept to her lips, a strange glow had
brightened her ageing face and although the creases were still evident, the
creases that had appeared on her forehead during the last few years of
struggle, yet Madhura looked beautiful. Madhura has fallen in love, she is
smitten and totally enamored. Is this how love feels? she wondered. Never
before in her life she had experienced anything like this. Her mind immediately
pictured a handsome face she had thought she loved, the few streaks of grey on
his forehead and the intelligent eyes behind the black rimmed glasses. But why
had this face become bleak, she tried to trace all the marks, the curves on his
face but could not. Till a few months back she could remember every inch of his
face and every time she recalled, she felt a pang of melancholy, a sudden
twinge of pain in her heart.
A single signature on the divorce papers was a liberating
experience. It was an end to all those
years of trying, trying really hard to please Arun and his parents. A scrawl on
the legal papers liberated Madhura from the four yearlong effort of trying to
be that which she could never be, trying to be that which Arun had always
looked for in a wife. Nobody really bothered what Madhura wanted in her life.
Madhura's father had never asked her on whether she would like to get married
or take up the offshore job opportunity. Madhura's husband had never asked her
whether she would like to pursue her dream of becoming a singer. The fact was
nobody had ever asked Madhura what would make her happy and ironically Madhura
herself too had never asked the same question to herself. She realized
somewhere she herself was to be blamed for her misfortune. Madhura's life had
revolved around Arun's life and his absence left her dazed for some days. She
had never thought about the purpose of her existence. Her day had always
started and ended with Arun’s thought. What would Arun like for breakfast or
dinner? Would Arun approve the new dress she had purchased for herself? Would
Arun get angry if she went to her mother’s place for a few days? Arun’s
happiness made her feel happy. She had never thought about what she wanted in
life. She had always sought acknowledgment from everybody, Arun, his
parents, her parents and so on. Now it no longer mattered. For once in life
Madhura did not bother what people would think of her? She did not bother to
understand what her neighbors whispered when they saw her after Arun had left
her.
Family, relatives and friends sympathized with her. The look
of pity lingered in the eyes of people around her for many days to come.
Madhura waited patiently for the look of pity to pass, she wished to live a
dignified, respectful and independent life and not a life of pity and
compassion. She hated the look of pity in the eyes of her close friends and
family. Madhura returned to a life of normalcy soon enough much to the surprise
of her friends and relatives. Madhura never enquired about Arun's whereabouts
although a few friends informed her that he was living in Anjali's apartment.
It did not matter anymore to Madhura. Madhura had lot of free time now. She did
not wake up in the morning with the thought of what to cook for Arun's lunch
and breakfast, she could actually sneak some time to go for her morning trysts
in the park. The daily rendezvous with the morning sun was something she looked
forward to. Every morning the sky had a different hue from the previous day, nature
would everyday splash different colors on the morning sky. Madhura had a lot of
free time to herself and so she has joined an NGO for street children. She
spends her weekends educating the street children, encouraging them to join
school. A sudden divine intervention has brought about a lot of meaning to her
barren life. Madhura is no longer Mrs. Arun Sharma, Madhura is just
"Madhura- the sweet one". Madhura has discovered the right essence of
life, never before had she known so much sweetness could exist in life. The
sweetness that comes from living a meaningful life.
Dusk had descended but Madhura continued walking bare feet
on the wet grass. A few drops of rain had started falling on her feet. The
clear sky was gradually getting filled with ominous clouds. It was quite
similar to her life which had seemed to be perfect but a sudden quake had
shattered everything. The children had returned home and so had the chirping
birds. Madhura noticed a crimson hibiscus lying in her path, she lifted it
gently in her hands, the severed flower was still bright crimson. The hibiscus
had still retained its identity even after being severed from the tree. The
flower glowed with an unusual brightness. Madhura looked at it with curiosity
and gradually a smile curled up in her winter cracked lips and in that divine
moment she professed her love for life, a love much stronger and passionate
than any other love she had ever before experienced in her life.
