She touched her belly once again and felt the little foetus kicking her inside. “Just if he was with me to experience this happiness,” she pondered and felt asleep.
She was woken up the next morning due to heavy banging’s on the door. The neighbours were calling her to celebrate Holi with them. She sent her son, Satya, to play with them but decided to stay indoors herself; faking morning sickness. Mustering up much desired courage and strength, she decided to call her husband. She was sure he would not receive the call but nonetheless, dialled his number making a little prayer. The bell wholly rang, and yet again, nobody answered.
She was on the verge of breaking up. It was not easy to bear a notorious kid and another one in the stomach all by herself. She would wake up puking; undergo heavy migraine attacks, massive mood-swings and immense fits of pain in her abdomen, all by herself. She would even have to visit the gynaecologist, all by herself. She could obviously call up a friend or a relative, but she, due to the habit of over-thinking stuff, did not want to disturb anybody else.
Every night before losing to sleep, a tear or two would escape her eye and she would feel a terrible longing for her husband.
The day she had vowed to find happiness in the bond called marriage, she had devoted her life to Ravi. She never complained, protested, grumbled or cried. Not even when her husband had first told her how he was supposed to leave her all alone with Satya and live with the second wife. Not even when he had told her that he had his duties to fulfil, regarding the second wife. For Tapapsya knew that the second wife gave her husband all the honour and respect he deserved.
But today, the void which was building in her over the years seemed to swallow her up. She needed a companion, a friend whom she could snuggle up with and sleep the entire night. She wanted to wake up to someone’s voice and know that somebody is always around to take care of her. Instant tears had started to flow off her eye which was at almost the same instant, turned into a glee.
The phone flashed Ravi’s number.
“Hello!”
“Happy Holi, Ravi!”
“Happy Holi, my love. How are you?”
“I am all good,” she wanted to tell him that he missed him. She wanted him to know how much she craved for him but she knew that would put him to worry and make him hunt for a leave from the second wife and so freed him the trauma.
“Are you sure? I doubt. You don’t sound so good.”
“Ravi,” she let out a heavy sigh. “Satya misses you. The little kid in my belly kicks me every day and asks about his father. The walls of our home seem to miss you. The neighbours, the grocery-shop owner, everyone misses you. And the most of all, I miss you. I miss you a lot.”
“I am coming!”
“What? No, no. See, this is why I don’t express myself. Please don’t come. She needs you more than I do. Please take care of her.”
“Ssssh. I called up just to tell you that start preparing gulab jamun’s for me. The war on the border, I told you about, has been settled. And I have been granted a week off on paternity grounds by my uniform. Or what do you call her? My second wife,” he mocked, imitating her voice.
“Where are you?”
“On my way. I’ll be there tomorrow morning.”
He could feel a sobbing voice from the other side, “How about Ragulla’s this time?” the voice declared and hung up.
She was woken up the next morning due to heavy banging’s on the door. The neighbours were calling her to celebrate Holi with them. She sent her son, Satya, to play with them but decided to stay indoors herself; faking morning sickness. Mustering up much desired courage and strength, she decided to call her husband. She was sure he would not receive the call but nonetheless, dialled his number making a little prayer. The bell wholly rang, and yet again, nobody answered.
She was on the verge of breaking up. It was not easy to bear a notorious kid and another one in the stomach all by herself. She would wake up puking; undergo heavy migraine attacks, massive mood-swings and immense fits of pain in her abdomen, all by herself. She would even have to visit the gynaecologist, all by herself. She could obviously call up a friend or a relative, but she, due to the habit of over-thinking stuff, did not want to disturb anybody else.
Every night before losing to sleep, a tear or two would escape her eye and she would feel a terrible longing for her husband.
The day she had vowed to find happiness in the bond called marriage, she had devoted her life to Ravi. She never complained, protested, grumbled or cried. Not even when her husband had first told her how he was supposed to leave her all alone with Satya and live with the second wife. Not even when he had told her that he had his duties to fulfil, regarding the second wife. For Tapapsya knew that the second wife gave her husband all the honour and respect he deserved.
But today, the void which was building in her over the years seemed to swallow her up. She needed a companion, a friend whom she could snuggle up with and sleep the entire night. She wanted to wake up to someone’s voice and know that somebody is always around to take care of her. Instant tears had started to flow off her eye which was at almost the same instant, turned into a glee.
The phone flashed Ravi’s number.
“Hello!”
“Happy Holi, Ravi!”
“Happy Holi, my love. How are you?”
“I am all good,” she wanted to tell him that he missed him. She wanted him to know how much she craved for him but she knew that would put him to worry and make him hunt for a leave from the second wife and so freed him the trauma.
“Are you sure? I doubt. You don’t sound so good.”
“Ravi,” she let out a heavy sigh. “Satya misses you. The little kid in my belly kicks me every day and asks about his father. The walls of our home seem to miss you. The neighbours, the grocery-shop owner, everyone misses you. And the most of all, I miss you. I miss you a lot.”
“I am coming!”
“What? No, no. See, this is why I don’t express myself. Please don’t come. She needs you more than I do. Please take care of her.”
“Ssssh. I called up just to tell you that start preparing gulab jamun’s for me. The war on the border, I told you about, has been settled. And I have been granted a week off on paternity grounds by my uniform. Or what do you call her? My second wife,” he mocked, imitating her voice.
“Where are you?”
“On my way. I’ll be there tomorrow morning.”
He could feel a sobbing voice from the other side, “How about Ragulla’s this time?” the voice declared and hung up.
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