The Secret wish List Page 11

  ‘I have this really important meeting today. The head of the team from Korea is arriving. Damn. What rotten timing.’ Sandeep is agitated.

  I assure him that I will manage and, besides, there is no point in two people hanging around. Sandeep gratefully accepts.

  I wonder how he can even think of his office at a time like this. I feel sorry for my mother-in-law. She is very quiet and looks almost frightened, so different from her usual chirpy self.

  ‘Ma, I have to go. Diksha will be here to look after you,’ says Sandeep.

  She does not talk and waves him away with her hand. He leaves quickly without so much as a backward glance, as though relieved to get away.

  My mother-in-law is silent for a while. Then she looks at me and breaks down.

  I run to her side and hold her hand, wiping away her tears with a tissue.

  ‘Don’t worry, Ma. Everything’s going to be fine,’ I console her with the usual cliché.

  Strangely enough, it comforts her.

  ‘It is just that at my age, Diksha,’ she whispers, ‘and at times like this, you miss your partner the most. I understand Sandeep is busy. But still, he didn’t even wait for the report. It is like he has shoved me in here and pushed off,’ she says.

  ‘Ma, it’s not like that. He knows I am here. He knows I will take care of you. You know how he is,’ I say, trying to comfort her even though the very same thought just crossed my mind. She has just spoken my thought out loud.

  ‘Yes, I do know him,’ she says wearily. ‘Sadly, my son is a selfish idiot. I erred in raising him,’ bitterness creeps into her tone.

  I do not know what to say to that.

  The nurse comes in and tells me that the patient has to be changed into a hospital gown. She requests me to attend to the many formalities that have to be completed at the hospital. I gently ask my mother-in-law if she will be okay alone while I go. She nods, saying she will be fine. The nurse tells her that she only need ring the bell by her headside and someone will immediately attend to her.

  I complete the formalities in about forty-five minutes and, when I come back, I find my mother-in-law fast asleep. In the hospital attire, she appears frail and vulnerable. My heart goes out to her, even though I know hers is not a life-threatening injury and she will soon be fine.

  It is only then that I remember ‘my date’ with Gaurav. The day’s events have completely overwhelmed me. It is already two in the afternoon.

  I dial his number and he picks up on the first ring itself.

  ‘Hey there. I am already here. Where are you?’ he asks.

  ‘I am so sorry, Gaurav. I won’t be able to make it. My mother-in-law is in the hospital and I am with her,’ I reply.

  ‘Oh,’ he says and I know that he is thinking I stood him up and am making an excuse now.

  ‘She is likely to be discharged today itself or maybe tomorrow. I can meet you another day perhaps?’ I ask, wanting to make it up to him. I feel bad ditching him like this today.

  ‘Okay, fine. How about Friday, after class?’ he asks

  ‘Done deal. I will meet you on Friday afternoon then. Bye, Gaurav,’ I say, as I hang up.

  When I turn around, I freeze. I realise that my mother-in-law is awake and has heard every word.

  I do not know what to say.

  She smiles feebly and says, ‘It is okay. Don’t worry. I will not tell Sandeep.’

  I am stunned at her astuteness and how fast she has grasped the situation. I cannot believe she is actually supporting me and is on my side.

  ‘Ma, actually it’s nothing like that. It is not what you think. I… er… I am taking these classes and Gaurav is my instructor,’ I mumble.

  ‘What classes, Diksha?’ she asks.

  The last thing I want is for her to presume that I am having an affair with Gaurav. It must have sounded like that from the phone call. So I pull up the chair and sit next to her. Then I tell her about all that happened in Vibha’s house. About how trapped I have been feeling. I tell her about how Sandeep behaves when he is at home. I speak about how we have no conversation and how all he does when he comes back from work is watch television. I tell her I am really single-handedly parenting Abhay. I unload all that is on my chest. I also tell her about Sandeep’s insensitivity in most matters. I open my heart and pour out everything. However I leave out the part about my secret wish list. I am not ready to share that with her. At least not yet. She listens patiently and understands exactly what I am saying.

  ‘You know, I felt much the same way. I too got married to Sandeep’s father, way too early. I have never ever lived my life or done things for myself. But that was okay for women of that generation. Certainly not of your generation,’ she says.

  It feels strange to be opening up to my mother-in-law like this. While we have always had a cordial relationship, we have never talked this way before. We now speak like long-lost friends.

  This is the first time that I am seeing her as Mrs Subadhra Pandit, the person, and not just as my mother-in-law.

  ‘I always felt you were too young to get married, Diksha. You were just nineteen. If you remember, when we first met you, I had suggested to your parents that we wait till you were twenty-one at least. We were more than ready for a long engagement. But your parents insisted so much on an early marriage, that we had no option but to comply,’ she says.

  I simply nod.

  How can I tell her that my parents just wanted me to get married at any cost? How can I tell her how petrified my father was that Sandeep’s family would call off the marriage if they came to know about my incident with Ankit. How can I tell her that I was only sixteen at that time and it was just a kiss, yet my parents acted like I got pregnant and brought shame on the family. I haven’t forgiven them till date for that. How can I tell her how oppressed and sad I felt in that all-women’s college that they put me into and how I longed to get out of it? How can I explain that my parents had demoralised me so much by their words that I was willing to do anything they wanted in order to win back their trust, which was why I had agreed to this marriage. I had no idea really what marriage meant when I had said a yes to please my parents. If my parents had asked me to walk on hot coals in order to win back their trust, I would gladly have.

  But they hadn’t. All they wanted for me was to get married. Most girls in my community got married before they were twenty-two anyway. If a girl was twenty-four or twenty-five, and still unmarried, she would be talked and gossiped about and all the aunties and other relatives would frantically start the matchmaking process. As far as my parents were concerned, Sandeep was a good guy, and he had excellent educational qualifications (he had done his Law and Company Secretaryship) and earned good money. Most importantly, he had ‘liked’ me and said a yes. As far as my parents were concerned, that was all that mattered.

  How could I possibly explain all this to my mother-in-law who is so earnestly telling me I married early?

  So I simply say, ‘Anyway whether at nineteen or twenty-one, I would eventually have had to get married and that too the arranged marriage way. I did not mind really.’

  She smiles and squeezes my hand.

  ‘You’re a good girl, Diksha. You are too good for my son really. Go learn your salsa. Don’t be afraid of him. I will speak to him about it and make him understand,’ she says.

  ‘Oh no, Ma, please do not do that. I really don’t want any complications. I don’t think he will understand,’ I quickly reply in panic. I really do not want Sandeep to know. I am secretly terrified that he will create a huge fuss and there is no telling how he will react.

  ‘Okay. It is our secret then,’ she says and chuckles. I am happy to see her in good spirits.

  I glance at the time and tell her that I will have to leave her and pick up Abhay as he would be arriving home soon. She assures me that she will be fine.

  I call up Sandeep to tell him that I am leaving the hospital to pick up Abhay.

  ‘What is it, Diksha? Can’t you manage? Di
dn’t I tell you this was important? Why are you calling?’ he hisses on the phone angrily, his voice a few decibels higher that what it usually is.

  I am taken aback by it. I have called him only very rarely on the phone. I never disturb him at work usually. It is his mother in the hospital for God’s sake. The least he can do is be polite. I don’t expect a thanks, but his curt attitude and tone feels like a hard slap on my face.

  I really do not know what to say. While I am quite used to his insensitive nature and selfish attitude, this one really takes the cake.

  ‘Sorry,’ I mutter and hang up. I do not even have the guts to talk back to him or tell him off. I feel very small. And very hurt.

  Then I hail an auto and head towards home to pick up Abhay.

  I remember Tanu’s mail on my way home. I so badly want to call up Tanu, but there is really no time as I have to rush back to the hospital, taking Abhay along with me.

  When I reach the hospital, I discover that the reports have all arrived and everything is clear. There are no broken bones or hairline fractures which, I’m told, are common for people her age in case of a fall. There is only a twisted ankle. Dr Hooja who is attending to her says that she can be discharged and advise her to take it easy and rest for a few days.

  I do not even want to call up Sandeep to tell him that his mother is being discharged. I pay up all the hospital bills, using the add-on credit card. It is a large amount. Ha! He can account for this whopping expense in his account book that he maintains. I feel a sadistic sense of satisfaction at this thought.

  I then book a cab and one of the hospital attendants who has just finished his duty, accompanies Abhay and me in the cab to take my mother-in-law home. She has agreed to live with us for a few days till she is able to manage on her own.

  ‘I am so happy you will be staying with us, Aayi,’ says Abhay as he hugs her. She smiles back.

  ‘Me too,’ I add and I mean it.

  Sandeep calls on my cell phone at around eight pm, when I am in the middle of serving dinner to my mother-in-law and Abhay.

  ‘I got late as I couldn’t possibly leave office before the Korean team left. So what is the scene? Shall I come to the hospital?’ he asks.

  ‘We are at home. She is with us,’ I reply, trying to keep the anger and accusations out of my voice.

  ‘Oh,’ he says. Then a moment later adds, ‘How did you get her home? Why didn’t you call me?’

  ‘Because you said you had important stuff at work,’ I grit my teeth and answer. I think that if there is a Nobel Prize awarded for tolerance of extreme selfishness in a spouse, I would win it.

  Later when everyone has slept, I log in to the computer and quickly draft a reply to Tanu.

  ‘Hey Tanu!!

  It is really me. How AWESOME to hear from you. I wanted to call you last night itself, as soon as I saw your mail, but it was too late. And then I wanted to call you the first thing this morning, but a lot has been happening.

  I am married and have been married now for fifteen years. Can you believe? And I am a mother too. Yeah—don’t be shocked, my son is now nine.

  Sandeep works in an MNC and we stay on Artillery Road in Bangalore.

  I am so excited that you are moving here! This is a real bolt from the blue, Tanu, albeit a pleasant one.

  And, Oh my God, you have become a total career woman!

  Are you married?

  I am dying to catch up. Eighteen years is a lifetime really! Cannot believe it is that long since we connected.

  I will call you first thing tomorrow.

  Loads of love,

  Diksha

  Fifteen

  SANDEEP SEEMS TO BE GROWING MORE IRRITABLE and grouchy by the minute. When I hand him his morning coffee in bed, he snaps at me saying that it is not warm enough. He seems preoccupied and generally pissed off about something. I run around, fixing breakfast, cooking and packing Abhay’s and Sandeep’s lunch, and seeing to it that Abhay gets to school on time, as well as checking on my mother-in-law. Sandeep exchanges a perfunctory greeting with his mother, before he disappears behind The Economic Times, in his usual place in the garden.

  My mother-in-law quietly observes everything and, once or twice, I catch her giving me sympathetic glances, but I look away.

  As soon as Sandeep leaves, she says,‘It is obnoxious, his behaviour, Diksha. He is my son and all that, but I can see what’s happening with a detached eye. He does absolutely nothing to help you around the house. You should talk to him about it.’

  ‘Do you think I haven’t tried, Ma? Sandeep’s view is that if I need more help with housework, I can employ an additional maid. He just doesn’t get it,’ I reply. ‘I have more or less resigned to it, really. If I bring it up, he will shred me to bits with his words and I prefer to keep peace at any cost.

  ‘I really don’t know how he turned out like this. You know, Sandeep’s father was so different from him. He used to help me with everything. He was such a good man,’ she says, her eyes misting at the memory.

  I have only heard stories about my father-in-law. I never met him as he had passed away a few years before I married Sandeep. My mother-in-law reminisces about him and I listen to her patiently, even though all I want to do is rush to my room and call up Tanu. I really want to catch up with her.

  Finally, when my mother-in-law retires to her room for a nap, I rush to my bedroom and switch on my computer. I open Tanu’s mail and smile once again as I read it.

  Then I dial her number. My heart is beating so fast that I am unable to focus on anything other than the ringtone, a peppy modern song that I hear often on the radio, perhaps a Katie Perry number.

  She answers after a few seconds with a business-like, ‘Yes?’ not even a hello.

  ‘Hey! Tanu?’ I almost scream.

  ‘OH MY GOD. Is it really, you Diksha?’ The excitement and joy in her voice is clearly evident and I smile broadly.

  Something really amazing happens when old friends, who you have known since childhood, come back into your life.

  ‘You bitch, you fool, you stupid woman, you donkey!’ yells Tanu into the phone.‘Where the fuck did you disappear after school? Do you know how many letters I wrote you?’ she demands.

  It is as though we left school just yesterday and all that happened in between has melted. I am astonished by the closeness and warmth I feel towards Tanu, and by the fact that she still addresses me like she used to in school, with the easy familiarity of a deep friendship, unaffected by anything—a gap of eighteen years, a marriage, motherhood and everything else.

  I am too stunned to speak. In those few seconds, everything that happened after my parents pulled me out of school, till the time I got married, flash before my eyes. I abhorred that part of my life. I didn’t receive a single letter from Tanu. Perhaps my grandmother and Meera Mausi had been instructed by my parents to cut me off from me all my friends. I do not know. I had often wondered why I never heard from her. Back then, I was too broken, too frightened and too supervised to try and contact either Tanu or Ankit.

  Now with Tanu suddenly back in my life, demanding to know why I dropped out of hers, is forcing me, rather, transporting me back to a time and place I’d rather not revisit. I am shaking and need to sit on the bed. I am so overwhelmed with emotions that there is a tightness in my throat which is making it difficult for me to speak.

  ‘Hello? Are you there?’ asks Tanu.

  ‘Yeah, Tanu. I will tell you everything in detail, but only when we meet. You say—what are you doing now? Where are you and when are you moving to Bangalore? How did you find me?’ I ask.

  ‘Hmmm, okay. I get by. I work with Barclays. I am now moving to take over the Bangalore operations. My career is really rocking and I love my work. I am single and live on my own. And we should meet soon,’ she says.

  I truly envy her at that moment. She has lived her life, made something out of it, unlike me who has got married and done nothing except produce a child. I feel worthless, like I have wasted
my life. I have never had a job, never worked. And Tanu, who is exactly my age has a name for herself, is financially independent and will now head the Bangalore operations.

  ‘Wow! You have made it, Tanu. I am so proud of you,’ I finally say. I mean it with all my heart. Even though my admiration for my friend is a hundred per cent genuine, it is still laced with a tinge of regret for my wasted life.

  ‘Listen. I arrive this weekend. I am selling off all my stuff there and buying everything from a scratch in Bangalore. You know all the furniture shops there, right?’

  ‘Yeah, I can help you with that. Come and stay with me, Tanu. We have such a lot to catch up on,’ I offer.

  ‘I appreciate your offer, Diksha, but I have never met your husband. My company has booked me at Oberoi and it is close to work too. I can stay there till I find a home. Let’s meet there. We have so much to catch up on and, while your husband may be a sweet guy and all that, I don’t think we can really talk if your family is around, isn’t it?’

  My husband is not a sweet guy and is an insensitive jerk and I am too cowardly to stand up to him.

  ‘Yes, you do have a point, I guess. But if you change your mind or if you need anything, feel free to treat my home as your own.’

  ‘As though you need to tell me that!’

  ‘And who did you manage to track down?’ I ask, dying to know and unable to hold back the question anymore.

  ‘Who do you think, Diksha?’ She asks in a tone which is different from her usual excited pitch.

  I hesitate to ask. I dread hearing it. It is like my worst fears are going to come true.

  ‘Don’t tell me,’ I say, almost holding my breath. I want to hear it, yet I don’t want to. I want to know it, yet I do not want to. It is the strangest thing I have ever felt.

  ‘Ankit’ she says.

  I could have sworn I felt my heart stop.

  ‘Fuck,’ I say.

  And it is the first time in eighteen years that I have sworn.

  ‘So where is he and what does he do?’ I finally ask.

  ‘Will tell you all in good time. Meet me on Saturday for lunch?’ she asks.