Travails Of A Married Man - Part 2

Travails of a married man - Part 2

A fictional story by Prakash Subbarao (Prakash@3xus.com)

You’ve read part I of this story, right? If you haven’t, you need to catch up, dude. It’ll be good for you. It will make it easy to understand this story. As David C. McCullough said: “History is a guide to navigation in perilous times. History is who we are and why we are the way we are”. Who is McCullough? The guy who made the statement, dude. That’s all you need to know at this stage.

To read Part I of the story, search for it on my blog:

(http://prakashsubbarao.blogspot.com).

Those who have read Part 1 and forgotten it, go back and re-read it. Do not pass GO, do not collect $200.

Those who remember it with clarity, uncomfortable or otherwise, read on………………..

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

The cast so far:

Me

My wife: Sarita

My friend: Probir

His wife: Malini

His sister: Rani

The action is taking place circa 1986.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

About ten days after I had visited Probir’s place and taken Rani to the school as the surrogate mother of my daughter, the itch to see Probir again surfaced. It was more an itch to have a drink with him; you will remember that the first time around I went for whisky but was served tea instead. I was determined that this time, whisky I would drink. It was not to be, but I didn’t know it at that time.

I was staying in Madras with a friend and unfortunately he had fractured his hand so I had full use of his Bajaj Chetak scooter. My company car had not been allotted to me as yet, so that evening I drove to Probir’s place on this two wheeler. I reached there at around 7.30 p.m.

I rang the bell of his flat. Rani opened it as she had done the previous time. I fleetingly experienced a sense of déjà vu and then the sensation was gone. She smiled at me. “She’s in a good mood today” I thought to myself. But I couldn’t have been more wrong. Details later, dear reader. Patience!

Malini was at home and she smiled. “Hi!” she said. “Hi!” I replied. The mood was light and easy.

“We are going out to a friend’s place for dinner but you must join us” Malini said to me. She emphasized the “must”.

“Shit!” I thought to myself. Another evening down the drain. “No thanks, Malini” I replied politely. “I will come by another time”.

“Do come!” said Rani. She was looking at me strangely. Her eyes caught and held mine for longer than necessary. I felt confused.

Malini took my silence for assent. “It’s settled then! We will leave as soon as Probir arrives. He will be here any moment”.

Probir arrived from work a few minutes later. “Hi guys!” he said cheerfully and vanished to have a bath and get ready. He reappeared a few minutes later wearing a colourful batik shirt and his trademark jeans. “Chalo, let’s go!” he said and we all trooped out of the house.

“I have come on a scooter. I’ll follow you guys” I said. “That way I can head directly home after the party”.

“I’ll ride with you on the scooter” Rani hurriedly said. I looked at Probir and Malini. “OK” Probir nodded.

We had driven for about ten minutes when Rani surprised me. “I am in a bad mood. I don’t want to go to that wretched dinner. I feel like having a drink. Let’s go have a beer somewhere”. I was amazed. I was astounded. I was astonished. But, more importantly, I was game. I too didn’t want to go to some silly dinner somewhere and babble small talk inanely with people I hardly knew, with a false smile plastered on my lips.

“But what shall we tell them?” I asked.

“That we had a puncture and had to stop the scooter; that we didn’t know the way to their friend’s place and since we didn’t have the keys to the house, we decided to go and have a drink instead and await their return”.

It made sense.

“She has planned this in advance” I suddenly realized. She had delivered a flawlessly executed coup d'etat.

“I’m game” I said.

“I know a nice restaurant near Music Academy” she said. “Let’s go there”.

We were soon settled comfortable at a fashionable restaurant. There was nothing stronger than a beer available, the maître d'hôtel told us. I grimaced. I would have loved to have a whisky (or two) rather than a gassy beer but beer it would have to be.

When the beer arrived she took a big swig without saying the traditional “Cheers!”.

She suddenly fell silent. She kept toying with her glass, wiping the condensation off it with her fingers. There was a far away look in her eyes.

“I am sorry! I am in a very bad mood” she finally said. I just nodded.

“Do you know that I am married?” she suddenly asked.

“No” I replied, surprised. I had assumed that she was still single.

“Yes. I am married. To a wonderful guy”. She sounded very bitter. “I got married just six months back. Now we are already separated. I am asking for a divorce”

I didn’t know what to say. I just nodded.

“I needed to talk to someone all these days. I felt very depressed, very lonely. But there was no one to talk to. When you suddenly landed up unannounced at our home today I was happy. I thought I’d be able to talk to you. If I don’t talk to someone I will go mad”.

“Have you met my cousin, Prasad, by any chance?” she asked, after a pause.

“No” I replied.

“Prasad and I fell in love many years ago. It was a very deep and passionate love. Both of us wanted to marry and we approached our elders regarding this but they refused. They said the bloodlines are too close. So who cares about bloodlines!” she flared. “The moment that I told my parents that I love Prasad and want to marry him, my parents ensured that we stopped meeting each other. They used to lock me up at home. Prasad’s parents did the same. Then my father and mother started looking for a marriage partner for me. I told them that I would never marry anyone other than Prasad, but they didn’t listen.”

She was crying by now, the tears flowing unhindered down her face. She made no effort to wipe them away.

“I tried every prayer that I could think of. I used to sit in front of God for hours together and pray that he let me marry Prasad………..but it didn’t work. God never heard or answered my prayers. One day a boy came home, with his parents, to “see” me. They agreed to the union on the spot. He is an IAS officer and doing very well. I told my parents that I would never agree to this marriage but they forced me. Till the day of the marriage I was kept locked up at home. When the time came for me to marry him, I just went numb. I sat through the ceremony and we were pronounced man and wife.”

She wiped her tears and fell silent, introspective. Her eyes had a far away look.

“I know what you are thinking. “What happened on the wedding night?” The answer is………nothing. I refused to let him touch me. Not that night, not ever. After a few days he became perplexed with my strange behaviour and asked me why I was behaving this way. I told him that though he appeared very nice to me, I loved someone else and had wanted to marry him. We sat up late that night, talking. I told him the truth; I told him everything.

Give me a divorce, I requested him.

“I am sorry but I cannot do that” he said.

“Why not”? I screamed at him in frustration and anger.

“Because I am an IAS officer and our lives must be above reproach; it must be perfect. If I ask for a divorce, it will go against me in my career record, for no fault of mine. If you wish to have an ongoing affair with your lover, please do so, but don’t ask me for a divorce!”

She was sobbing violently now.

“I ran away from his house the next day. I caught a train and came to Madras. To Probir’s house. I will not go back to my parent’s home nor to my husband’s house. I want a divorce but cannot get one. I am stuck!”

“I don’t want to “have an affair” with my lover! I want to marry him! I want him to be the father of my children!. What can I do! Oh what can I do!” she sobbed.

I kept quiet. There was nothing for me to say. “It is best to let her keep talking and get it off her chest” I thought to myself.

Finally, after about twenty minutes later she regained her composure. “Thank you for listening to me!” she said over and over again “I feel much, much better; much calmer. I am glad that we had this drink. Thank you!”

I felt glad too. I have known her from childhood, as you have gathered, and that was, then, for a good thirty years. Though we had never interacted much, we weren’t strangers to each other.

After that we sat and talked, like old friends, catching upon the news. I told her in detail about my family; about Sarita; about Preeti, our daughter. I told her about my life in Chloride and my life with Vikrant Tyres. And about my new job at T.I.. She listened attentively.

At 10.30 p.m. we settled the bill and left the restaurant.

Probir and Malini had returned home. Malini looked at us very strangely. “Where were you guys?” she demanded.

“Oh, the scooter got punctured and we had to stop and we lost you” Rani told her. “We tried changing the spare tyre but it was jammed so we had to push the bike to a mechanic…….it’s a long story” Rani broke off lamely.

“But your hands are clean” Malini said, looking at me with open disbelief. “You don’t look like someone who has been trying to change a scooter tyre”.

Not knowing what to say, I just shrugged.

There was nothing to say.

A few weeks later, Rani called me excitedly at my office. “I am going back to Bangalore to my parent’s house” she told me “My father has found someone very influential, very high up in government, who will put pressure on my husband to give me a divorce. My parents have agreed for me to marry Prasad! I am so happy!”

I felt happy too. I wished her well.

“Come see me when you are in Bangalore!” she ordered imperiously.

“Yes ma’am!” I responded. “We are old friends now. Just whistle and I will come, I joked.

She laughed.

A few months later she did whistle. Very despairingly. She was out of the frying pan but had fallen into the fire!

But more of that in the next episode.

………………End of episode 2. To be continued…………..