Read The Private Life of Mrs Sharma Online
Authors: Ratika Kapur
The Private Life of Mrs Sharma (16 page)
It seems that I will never see Vineet again. It is sad, but it seems that whatever it is that Vineet and I had, these nice five months that we spent together, it is all finished. The day before yesterday, when I had come back from the clinic and Bobby had come back from school, and we were sitting together and eating our lunch, Bobby told me, just like that, in a calm, cool voice, about how he had met Vineet two times since their cooking class last Sunday. He said that for both meetings he had got a gate pass from school, children from the eleventh and twelfth standards are allowed to do that, he said, and that both times he only bunked his PT class because he knew that I would have got very angry if he had bunked any proper class. And then he told me about how both times they sat at a tea stall in Sheikh Sarai and talked and talked about cooking and life and what not.
Now, I was angry with Bobby, obviously. I was happy that he had not bunked his Maths or Physics class, but still, any type of bunking is wrong. But what actually made my blood
boil was Vineet. Not only did he make my son bunk school, which was already a horrible thing to do, but Vineet also met my son without telling me. Vineet met my son behind my back. Vineet lied to me.
Vineet and I had not met in the five days since he came to the flat because he was on evening shift at the hotel, but we did talk on the phone two or three times and he still never said anything, not one word, about meeting Bobby. But I should say one thing here. On Wednesday, when Bobby had come back from school, I thought that I could smell Vineet's cologne, but then I just let it be, because it seemed that it was just one of those foolish things that happens with lovers, when you feel them around you even when they are not actually there. How stupid I was. So, I was angry with Vineet, angrier than I have ever been with anybody, I think, and my blood boiled and boiled. I was also confused. I could not understand why he was doing all this. So I decided then and there, while sitting and eating lunch with Bobby, that I would meet Vineet as soon as I could and get some answers out of the man. But before I got up from the dining table, I looked at Bobby and, in a voice as cool and calm as Bobby's voice when he told me about meeting Vineet, I said, It is good that you met your Vineet Bhaiya, because he told me that from next week he is going to be out of station for some time.
I left the clinic one hour early yesterday and met Vineet at Barista in SDA. And what can I say? Vineet Sehgal lives in
some other world. He does not think like normal people. Normal people who have affairs and who also have sense, and I think that means most people, normal people don't just leave everything, their husbands and children and homes, and run off with their lovers. But it seems that Vineet has no sense. I could not shout at him because there were so many people sitting around us, but when I asked him in the hardest but quietest way I could ask why he had been meeting Bobby without telling me, he just said, I am doing all this because I want to marry you.
Then he just kept begging me and begging me to marry him. He said that from his side everything is fine, it does not matter to him if I am a divorced woman, and that he has now also told his mother about me and she will also be fine. I almost laughed at this, and I wanted to tell him that he is the biggest fool in the world to think that his mother would treat a used woman with any type of respect, but I kept quiet. And then he told me that he knows me very well now, better than I know myself, he said, and he said that knowing the type of respectable woman that I am, I would never ever have started any relationship with another man if I was not already unhappy in my marriage, and that the only reason I have still not agreed to marry him is that I am scared about what will happen to Bobby, and now he, Vineet, wants to prove to me that he can look after Bobby.
I could not keep quiet any more. Look after Bobby? I said. You force my son to bunk school and then you say that you want to look after Bobby?
I did not force him to do anything, Vineet said. But even if I was a little stupid, even if I am not as mature as I am
supposed to be, one thing I won't do is abandon him like his father did.
When he said this my head just burst. It seemed as if it had smashed into thousands of little, little pieces. I did not say anything for some time. It seemed as if I was trying to collect together all the broken pieces of my head. But after two or three minutes, I fixed my eyes on Vineet's eyes, and I said, Now, you listen to me very carefully, it is my turn to speak. And then very slowly and very calmly I said, In my family nobody abandons anybody. Bobby's father has not abandoned his son, he has not abandoned his wife, and he never ever will, and the opposite is also true. Bobby will not leave his father, and I will surely never ever leave my husband. Now, you better remember that.
Vineet's eyes roamed around the room but his mouth did not move.
And one last thing, I then said. You will swear on your mother that you will never ever meet my son again.
I have never sworn on my mother before, Vineet said, and I cannot swear on her now.
That is fine, I said, but remember that if you do ever dare to meet Bobby, then you will never see me again. And then I stood up and walked out of Barista.
When I had Skyped with my husband this morning he had said that there are two words that Arabs always use, inshallah, if God wills it, and khallas, finished. I can't say inshallah, because
God has not willed this relationship between Vineet and me, but I can say that it is khallas. Khallas, finished.
I am such a fool. I had always believed that Vineet was not interested in marriage at this stage in his life, but I had still made a promise to myself that if and when Vineet was ready to get married and his mother had found him a girl, then I would quietly walk away. I also believed that until that time for marriage came, Vineet and I could go on as it is. As long as Vineet behaved himself for the one month when my husband comes to Delhi each year, I thought that this relationship could last. And I also thought that if by chance Vineet was not interested in getting married at all, then this relationship could last for all the years that my husband is in Dubai, which would be at least another seven years if we want a good future for our son and ourselves.
But Vineet is interested in getting married, and even though he, and not his mother, has found the girl that he wants to marry and by chance that girl is me, even then I will not break my promise. Now I will walk away.
The straight road is not only the right road, but it is also actually the easier road to take. I know that in those five months with Vineet I would sometimes talk about how nice or calm or good I felt when I was with him, but the truth is that it was also difficult. People don't realise how difficult it is to have this type of relationship, which I will not call an affair because affairs mean sex, a lot of sex, and, actually, in all those five months Vineet and I had sex only three times and not one time more than that. But now that is all finished, the hiding, the lying, all those difficult times are all finished, khallas, and inshallah I will be on the straight road again.
Actually, maybe I am already on the straight road, because everything is already feeling better, less difficult, and nice things are starting to happen. The first and most important thing is that Bobby and I have made an agreement, a proper agreement that we talked about so seriously and carefully that I joked that we should get it attested at a notary public! Bobby has agreed to
stop going to Ankit's father's restaurant, to study very hard and try to come in the first three ranks of his section as he always used to, and then to do an MBA. From my side, I have agreed to allow him to cook in the kitchen on all holidays, to also convince his grandmother to allow him to do that when she comes back, and to allow him to become a chef or whatever else he wants to become as long as he does his MBA first. Obviously I don't think that I actually have to worry about the last promise because after my Bobby has walked into a posh, fully air-conditioned office for his internship, Rosie told me that all MBA courses require students to do internships, would he then ever want to walk into a kitchen again? But yes, Bobby and I have made an agreement, and I think that we are both very happy about it.
Obviously Bobby wonders why Vineet has not called him up for so many days. Last evening Bobby told me that every time he has tried to call up Vineet, Vineet either does not pick up the phone or it is switched off. I said that Vineet is out of station, that he has gone off somewhere with Neha, and that maybe the network is poor in the place where he is, or the roaming charges are too high. I think that Bobby believes me because he has not talked about Vineet again.
Sometimes I think that Bobby is a lonely child. But that is the fate of an only child. Ask me. And that is why I am now trying to make Bobby become friendly with the girl with the green eyes at the bus stop. Actually, I don't have to make him become friendly with her. Every morning he picks up his dumbbells from next to the bed and does these funny exercises, and I know that it is just to impress her. I just have to help
him. But we know her name now. It is Madhurima. I asked another mother at the bus stop.
A mother trying to help her son become friendly with a girl? I know that it sounds as if I have gone mad. But he is only fifteen years of age. What wrong can happen? I think that wrong things happen much more in the company of other boys. I cannot forget what happened the last two or three times that my son was with other boys. Either he came back home drunk or he came back home wanting to be a cook. And this Madhurima seems to be such a good, studious girl. It is obvious from the way her hair is tied neatly into a ponytail, from her bright white nicely pressed uniform, and from the way she stands quietly with her back straight and feet together, next to her father, waiting for her bus to come. And by looking at her father, it seems that she hails from a good family. Even at six thirty in the morning he is shaved and neatly dressed. And he drives a car. But obviously these things hardly matter. I am looking for a friend for my son, not a daughter-in-law.
So, as I said, nice things are happening, and on Monday another nice thing happened. I walked into Doctor Sahib's office between two of his appointments, I had decided that I should just walk straight in, and I greeted him and then I put down on his desk the shortlist of computer models that Vineet and Bobby and I had made, which I had obviously typed out neatly, and then and there Doctor Sahib asked me for a purchase order form, which I quickly brought, and then and there Doctor Sahib filled it out and signed it, and now, in ten days' time, there will be a new computer at the reception, which is only for me to use.
It is a little bit odd how these nice things have started to happen so suddenly. It seems as if these nice things had been standing quietly in line waiting for Vineet to go, waiting for Vineet to make some space for them, to make entry into my life again.
But the nicest thing of all is that my husband is coming back home in exactly one week's time. It is almost a little bit funny, but even though my husband is the one coming back home, I feel like I am also coming home. Have I gone mad?
But, yes, in one week's time, my husband will be here, and at exactly this time one week from now, my husband will be lying here next to me on this bed. On Sunday when we Skyped he looked better than he has ever, ever looked since he left me one year and nine months ago. He looked so happy and excited that even the computer monitor seemed to be brighter. I knew from his eyes and from the way he smiled that he had some plans for him and me that he could not tell me because Bobby was sitting just next to me. Still, he looked at me with that special look and he said, So, I hope the washing machine is working now. I looked back at him with the same look and said, Obviously it is.
I have already chosen the sari that I will wear to receive him at the airport. It is the orange and green Maheshwari that my mother-in-law bought for me last Diwali. I have only worn it one time, but I think that it suits me. I have also chosen a red collared t-shirt and navy-blue pants for Bobby. He will not wear a proper shirt, I know, and I don't want to get into any fights with him. But I have still not decided whether we should carry a garland for my husband or a bouquet of flowers. I don't
want anything fancy, I don't want any drama at the airport. If it is a garland I was thinking of buying just a simple garland of marigolds. For the bouquet it would have to be roses, just one dozen roses, red or yellow, because in the summer months there is so little choice. I have also still not decided what I will say and do when I first see my husband. Should I just shake his hand? Or could I hug him? Maybe I could push Bobby in front of me and make him hug his father first, and then see if it is all right to do the same. And what should I say? You are looking very good, I could say. Or, How was the journey? One thing that I have done is to promise myself that I will not cry. No matter what happens, no matter how he looks or what he says, I will not allow myself to cry.
Maybe I could just greet him, then give him a very quick short hug, and then say, Fine, let's go, you must be very hungry.