Chasing Her Shadow - Chapter Eight
Meera Srikant
13 August 2008, 10:49Continued From Chapter Seven
Satish was not out of her mind completely, and she could not fit Ravi in there. She did feel comfortable with Ravi, but was that love? The feelings she had for Satish….they were precious to her and she could not imagine herself feeling the same way about Ravi.
More importantly, could she ever replace Mary? How right she had been! She could never replace Mary in his life.
She laughed off his proposals. His persistence became a game to play. If he didn’t renew his proposal every so often, she would remind him of it and laugh. She could see the hurt on his face and she would regret her rudeness. She didn’t understand why he insisted on meeting her still. All her attempts to refuse to meet him only made things worse. He would drop into her office, and that, Shyamala found was more embarrassing.
In her private moments, the proposal wasn’t so amusing. She was confused. What was she clinging on to? As though to answer her, one morning she saw a mail from Satish. And, the subject line made her hot in her face. “Marry me!” Answer to her prayers!! She closed her eyes for a second in silent prayer and opened the mail.
“Can you believe it? I actually found a girl I could say this to without thinking that my head would be snapped off. And, she said a yes. So, I am marrying next month. Hope you can make it to the wedding. Will send you a card. Tata. Satish”
Her head reeled. But why! What else should she expect? She dived into her work with vigour, trying to forget the morning mail. She sent Satish a greeting card by afternoon, trying to forget who she was sending it to. She felt a need to get back home and sleep, but knew she couldn’t as there was rehearsal. She felt fed up with theatre, work, everything. She called up Rakesh, telling him all sorts of lies about not being able to make it to the rehearsal, took half-day off and went home. Her mother was shocked, worried that her daughter was unwell. But, she smiled effusively, set her mother’s mind to rest and went off to sleep.
Evening, she received a call from Ravi. “What happened? I believe you were not well?”
“Hmm..yeah. Had headache, that’s all.”
“Feeling better now?”
“Yes. Will be coming to work tomorrow.”
“Then let’s meet.”
She frowned, irritated. But, seeing her mother around, she didn’t want to fuss and rouse her suspicions and agreed.
The whole of next morning, she was unable to reach Ravi to call off their evening teatime date.
*
That was the day she had walked into marriage with no clue of what was happening. Though she was usually quiet, he noticed that evening that she looked out of sorts. He tried his bag of anecdotes, and despite Shyamala’s efforts, she could only smile. Her laugh sounded hollow to her.
“Looks like something is bothering you?”
“No.”
“You won’t share it with me?” he asked, slightly hurt.
She was silent. She didn’t see a point in talking about it. “Just had some news from a friend which wasn’t pleasant – for me. I will get out of this mood soon.”
He looked at her with concern. She could feel his eyes penetrating through her lowered head and was uncomfortable. “Hope it is nothing serious?”
She looked up. “No… It’s nothing. Let’s go,” she said abruptly. She was scared of the way he looked at her – scared that she would breakdown or say more than she intended to. In this relationship, he was the talker and she the listener. She did not feel comfortable changing the roles.
She got up to go. He quickly paid the bill and followed her. She made as if to go her way, but he caught her hand for a second. “Let’s walk down a bit,” he suggested and literally pulled her along the shaded avenue across the road, which in twilight was dim-lit.
Shyamala felt her heart beating faster and felt butterflies in her stomach. She was ready to cry and scared of breaking down in front of Ravi. Why, oh why was she so closed up? Why couldn’t she learn to open up?
“Look,” he said gently after they had walked a bit in silence, “I don’t know what’s bothering you. You will not tell me, why? What have I done to merit such distrust?” he exclaimed. She remained silent, not trusting her voice. She was straining herself to keep control, but tears streamed down. She stifled a sniff and thanked the dim lighting for hiding her face. She couldn’t understand it herself, this restraint when a part of her wanted to so desperately lean on him and cry. “I want you to know,” he continued softly when she refused to respond, taking her hand, “whatever it is, I want to stand by you.”
She tried to look straight. She knew the dam would break any minute. She stopped mid-way in her walk and turned to him, her face in shadows. She bit her lip, managed to look up and stammered, “Ravi, you have been a pillar.” After a pause, she added, “I want to go home.”
He looked at her closely. “Are you okay? Should I drop you?” He put an arm around her. The last vestiges of self-control broke down and Shyamala allowed herself to lean on him briefly. Quickly she pulled herself back and walked back to the bus-stop without pausing to say a bye.
*
Ravi called up a couple of times to check on Shyamala in the next few days but didn’t ask to meet. He dropped a brief mail a week later asking her forgiveness if he had troubled her in any way or intruded in her life. He would trouble her no more, he promised as he signed off, and hoped that she had got over whatever was bothering her.
Shyamala felt overwhelmed. She hadn’t had the courage to meet him initially and so had dreaded that he would invite her. But this mail was a jolt from the blue. She had hurt him by not sharing her feelings, she could understand that. What should she do? Did she want him back in her life or should she let him go? She felt confused again and lonely like never before.
Shyamala didn’t see any point in holding a torch for someone who was anyway not hers. And, here was someone who was ready to marry her. If it was not Satish, did it matter if she married Ravi or someone else? Is this what she had thought when she had decided she would marry him? Had she felt obliged after the way he had treated her that evening – with so much care and concern? Or was it a reaction to Satish’s wedding announcement?
She called up and asked to meet him. He was silent before he asked if she had checked her mail. “Yes, I have.”
Again a pause. “Are you sure?”
She tried to joke, “Sure that I have checked mail?”
“No, sure that you want to meet me?”
Shyamala felt sad that he had misunderstood her silence. “Yes,” she said.
“OK, tea or lunch?”
“Neither. Can we meet somewhere else, where it is quieter?”
“Are you sure?” he asked again, surprised.
“Yes.”
A pause. He suggested a place and a time. Shyamala agreed and put the phone down.
What should she tell him?
*
As she fumbled with her mother’s house keys, Shyamala was jolted back to the present by seeing Ravi near the lift. She stood still, looking at him. He was expressionless, and waited for her to open the door. They walked in silently and he closed the door gently. She kept the things on the table and turned to face him, ready for a show down.
He remained calm and started coming towards her. “Did you eat anything?”
Shyamala quickly walked to the sofa, not letting him hug her. She sat on the divan and put up her chin defiantly. He repeated his question. She nodded. “What did you eat?” he asked, eyeing the things on the table. “And, when?”
She frowned. “I am sure you are not here to ask me these things?”
He looked at her and smiled. So, so, so very typical of him not to create a scene but wait for her to start the fight. When they were newly married, if there was a dispute about anything, he would provoke her even more by being calm and sarcastic. She could still not control her temper at such moments, and anticipating the caustic remarks made her edgy.
But, this time, the sarcasm was not there, when he said, “I have come to take you back home.” He again moved towards her. But she held up her hand and shook her head.
He drawled, “You can’t stay here alone.”
Her face contorted in anger. “Please, Ravi! Enough of this drama.” And things she didn’t intend saying came out. “Look, let’s stop pretending. Mary is back in your life – lock, stock, barrel and a baby to boot. You expect me to come there with you? To do what? Cook for her?”
It was his turn to be agitated. Now, the fire will burst forth, she thought as she watched him pace the floor. He turned to her. “You wanted her out of the house, and she is out. What more do you want?”
This was news to her. But, it didn’t make her any happier. “She is out because I want her out! I am flattered, Ravi, that you should consider my feelings. But, obviously, you would have liked her to continue staying with you. And, I am a necessary accessory?” She felt bitter. Suddenly her irritation got the better of her. “Please leave me alone, Ravi. Don’t add insult to injury.”
He glared at her. “You don’t understand my feelings. You are only bothered about yours.”
Her eyes opened wide. “Ravi, please leave.”
He slumped on the sofa. “This is not what I came for,” he said, trying to calm himself. He looked at her again. “Please come with me. Please.”
She was confused at his change in tone and felt lost. She continued looking at him silently. She felt sorry for him. Why, how did he always manage to win her sympathy! Hadn’t she been cheated enough?
Shaking her head, she said, “No, Ravi. I won’t come back.” Noticing his change in expression and as he was about to say something, she added quickly. “At least, not right now. We have a lot of thinking to do. We were maybe hasty once before. We need to think more.”
He looked defeated as he asked weakly, “Hasty? I was never hasty, Shyam. But you probably always had second thoughts.”
Seeing her face set, he got up to leave. Then suddenly he turned around and said, “Let’s have dinner.”
“Where are they?” she asked.
“At Latha’s place. I have sent all that you had made with them. There is nothing for me to eat at home.”
He was hers after such a long time. Maybe, they had taken each other for granted, too much.
“I don’t plan to make much. Oh, I forgot to buy salt.”
“We will have dinner outside…? Or, we will order food?” he offered. The proximity was discomfiting and she wanted her space back. She felt he was again just rushing in, trying to mend bridges. Did he really want to? Even he wouldn’t know for sure. “We will go out,” she said firmly.
He looked disappointed. Relenting, she smiled quickly, “I think we have a lot of thinking to do, Ravi. A lot has happened in our lives and we have just lived each day without thinking what it means to us.”
*
Why was she hesitating? Throughout the drive to the restaurant, during dinner and on the way back, Ravi tried to talk to her about Mary. But, she just cut him down, tried to rebuild conversations left hanging in the past. Neither was interested in hearing the other, and a little bit of the stiffness returned.
“You are not helping me at all,” accused Ravi. Yes, that was true. This was maybe the right time to come clean with a lot of things, but she needed to be sure of herself and Ravi.
“Think, think. No hurry,” she put him off, got dropped back home and asked him to leave at the door.
Continued In Chapter Nine
