Shruti and Amrita sat in silence at latter’s balcony that
faced a line of silver oak trees. The night was drenched in the silvery moon
rays. The gentle breeze carried the fragrance of season’s first roses that were
in full bloom, while the dwarfed hibiscus plant stood like an admonished child
at one corner of the balcony. The ice had almost melted in their whiskey
glasses diluting the gold tinged drink; the tranquillity of the hour was enhanced
by the raspy voice of Qurat-ul-ain Balouch crooning about an anguished heart.
The friends were on their third drink. “Do you feel the buzz
yet,” asked Shruti. Amrita, who seemed to be lost in the song, said, “No.” Shruti
smiled and said, “good” and after a pause added, “my Urdu improved listening to
the songs you suggested. Thanks to Google.”
“Oh, I love Coke Studio, Pakistan; those guys make amazing
music and by the way, you should thank me for improving your Urdu. Remember all
the questions you asked?” Amrita replied, rolling her eyes.
What started as a carpool arrangement to office grew into
friendship. The two women have known each other for close to a decade now. Life
and professional commitments took them into different directions but they
stayed in touch, witnessed each other’s highs and lows.
“It feels good to be back at your house, it’s warm…comforting,”
said Shruti with a distant look.
“Are you sure it’s not the whiskey?” teased Amrita.
It was Shruti’s first visit to India after getting married
to Satish Srinivasan, a known radiologist in the US. Let down by their first
marriages, both Shruti and Satish wanted to give life a second chance and found
each other. Initially Shruti was wobbly, unsure if it was a good idea to walk
on the treacherous path again. A cheating ex-husband had left her shattered,
filled her with self-doubt. When she decided to marry Gary Mathews a decade ago,
her Iyengar family was rattled. Neither emotional blackmails nor angry
outbursts from her parents failed to change her mind. Though grew up in a strict
patriarchal environment, Shruti retained her free-spiritedness. The relationship
with her father, Madhav Narayan, was caught between the crossfires of orthodox
beliefs and rebellion. The father-daughter duo played this duel throughout Shruti’s
growing up days; sometimes she won and sometimes her father. By the time, she
was an adult, her father was only meant to meet her financial needs and she
longed to break the final shackle too. She did it by finding herself a job in
Bangalore and eventually deciding to marry Gary, the love of her life with whom
she was eager to bring up a child with a happy childhood.
The day she walked down the aisle with Gary, her parents
alienated her. Just when she thought she found happiness in her husband and a
beautiful daughter, her rebellion against her parents fell flat. She was no
longer Gary’s love interest; he started cheating on her with his ex. Burdened
by humiliation and betrayal Shruti endured Gary’s philandering ways until one
day she mustered enough courage to call it quits. Gary and his parents were caught off guard; they
never thought she could take the bold step. Unable to bear the insult that his
wife had decided to walk out on him, he blurted, “What can I expect from a
person who didn’t hesitate to leave her parents for getting married. It’s
nothing new for you to walk out of a relation!” If that wasn’t enough to make
Shruti realize the blunder she made in choosing a wrong person, his parents drove
the final nail in the coffin. They felt betrayed. “How could you do this to us?
Have we not taken care of you and your daughter well? Fine, Gary has found
another woman but we treated you like our daughter. Gave a roof over your head
and took care of your daughter when you went to work,” Shruti’s mom-in-law
asked.
“I’ll always be grateful for what you did for my daughter
and me but tell me, would you’ve given the same advice if it was your daughter
Becky?” asked Shruti.
That was the last conversation the two women had.
It took a year for Shruti to steer her life back to normalcy.
Things improved between parents and her. The age had mellowed Madhav Narayan.
Even the middle-aged Shruti had matured enough to understand life from a
different perspective.
Still in search of her happily ever after and also as a
social experiment, Shruti created a profile on a matrimonial website. She
wanted to find out what kind of men would respond to a divorcee who was at the
threshold of 40. And yeah, she was contacted by all kinds of men. Nevertheless,
Satish was different. Born and brought up in the US, a doctor by profession and
a rock music junkie disguised by his calm demeanour made him even more endearing.
Father of two girls, he was back to being single four years back. When he
contacted her online, Shruti was hesitant at the beginning. Her life had finally hit the calmer sea after
a choppy ride. Tired of meeting weirdos, Satish refused to give up on her
easily. He was instantly attracted to her honesty and maturity. Within no time,
the two started exchanging long emails on regular basis unravelling themselves.
They took their time to know each other and Shruti didn’t realize when the
charming doctor swept her off her feet. Love was in the air. Satish spent a
fortnight with Shruti’s parents in India so that they could know him, their future
son-in-law. Shruti travelled to the US to spend time with him and met his
parents. There was a bounce in Shruti’s feet again. Their marriage was
solemnised after few months with elders’ blessings this time. Shruti and her
daughter, Joanna moved to the US to build their world again.
Looking at Shruti’s empty glass, Amrita said, “Why don’t you
fill up your glass?”
“I was waiting for
you.” Amrita waved her hand and said sheepishly, “Don’t wait for me. Let Mr.
Glenfiddich work on you.”
Shruti filled her glass and decided against adding any ice. Toying with her wedding band she said, “From Shruti Narayan
to Mathews to Srinivasan.”
Amrita raising a toast for her, replied, “That’s one
hell of a journey and you seem to have covered a lot of ground!” Shruti
acknowledged with a nod and raised her glass.
“Tell me about your Las Vegas wedding and honeymoon cruise
to Mexico.”
Shruti still looking at her wedding band said, “It was
okay.”
Since evening Amrita noticed that, Shruti was lost in her
world of thoughts. She waited for Shruti to open up. She sensed that Shruti was
resisting as if waiting for her to take the lead.
“What’s bothering you? What happened to that excited bride I
spoke to a few months back?”
“I don’t know, Amrita. I feel like history is repeating
itself!”
Both went silent.
In the background, Farida Khanum, in her mesmerizing voice, was
pleading her beloved not to leave. Her agony seemed to have filled the vacuum,
suddenly created by the night.
“Why do you say that?” asked Amrita, breaking the silence.
“I read his text messages he sent to his ex-wife. It’s not
that he is drawn to her but longs to be with his daughters. So he is testing
the waters with his ex if there’s a chance of getting back with her.”
“What! Is he serious?” Amrita didn’t bother to hide her
shock and anger anymore. She went on with her rant, “He is thinking of
reuniting after divorcing her four years back! What was he doing all this
while? Does it all look like a child’s play to him? Does he realize that you have
uprooted yourself and, Joan’s life and moved with bag and baggage just because
he assured you of a lifetime commitment?”
Shruti was silent, sipping her drink as her eyes brimmed
with tears.
“Did you talk to him?”
“What do you think?” replied Shruti curtly. “In fact I asked
him to get the girls with us if that’s possible.”
“And?”
Shruti raised her shoulders and hands in dismissal. “I wonder if I did the mistake of getting
married again,” her voice quivered. “Apparently after seeing my equation with
Joan, he started missing his daughters!”
Shruti started laughing, almost uncontrollably.
“What’s so funny?” Asked an irritated Amrita.
“I’m laughing at the irony of my life. It’s not the other
woman who is a threat to my marriage but two young girls!” She went on dramatically,
“My bridal henna hands haven’t gone dry yet and I’m already fighting to save my
marriage.”
Amrita couldn’t stay angry anymore watching her friend’s histrionics.
“Listen, I am not going to tell anything clichéd but let me
remind you of a situation you were in, a few years back. Remember the time when
you were in Miami for your higher studies and your cousin lost all your money
in business. With no money to pay for your rent and food let alone your tuition
fee, you survived on pittance for weeks. You didn’t give up then when you were
left helpless and penniless on a foreign land with no backup. According to me,
that moment was when your life hit a rock bottom and the only way out was to
move up. You did that and how!”
Looking at Shruti, Amrita continued, “Often I wondered how you
keep on going, not giving up. If you can deal with a mess like that, what you
have now is nothing. Give your marriage some time; you’ll know what to do.”
Shruti resting her head on Amrita’s shoulder, slurred, “Mr.
Glen is working just fine…you know what’s good about light-headedness?”
“What?”
“It makes big problems small,” Shruti replied, her eyes
closed and head still rested on Amrita’s shoulders. “…..I have to deal with
this situation, don’t I?” She asked.
“Yes…..you have no option,” replied Amrita.
Shruti started humming along with Farida Khanum, though
fallen far off tune. In contrast to her name, her singing skills were worse
than that of an amateur.
“Have I ever told you that you should stop singing even in the
privacy of your home? You may end up spoiling the mood.”
“Yeah many times,” said Shruti smilingly and started singing
loudly.
The friends broke into hysterical laugh drowning the voice
of one of the revered singers.
