The awaited air trip

Whirl!! it went over my head. I lurched to look at the sky. And there it was, the tiny white bird. Had it not been for the noise, the white something would not have got my attention.

I used to love air planes. They made me smile. Every evening on a Sunday, daddy used to take me to the narrow by lanes near the church where the old airport stood. The street was narrow and there wasn’t enough space along the road to park Daddy’s bicycle. And there were cars wheezing around. So, he used to drag the bicycle with me sitting on the front seat to the small shop at the corner of the bylane. The shop was closed and the roof of the verandah was completely broken. With the bicycle parked in the abandoned verandah he would help me get down from the bicycle. Then we would park ourselves on the broken porch readying for the beautiful display of airplane show. We used to see all sorts of air planes- big and small ferry in and out. They seemed to be flying out of a box nearby. Daddy told me it is their home nearby. That is where they come to after a tiring flying day. We used to spend the entire evening gazing at the sky. As the sky darkened we would see the planes flying with blinking lights. It looked majestic - the twinkling somethings wheezing around in the sky. They seemed determined to go where they wanted. I used to ask Daddy when could we fly with them. And he used to answer ‘very soon’. As the street started immersing in darkness, Daddy would take out the small torch he carried. There were no street lights on the road. Then he would tie the torch on the handle of the bicycle with the sturdy rubber band, which maa used to tie her hair. He had told me that Maa had gone very far away. I used to wonder where she had gone. She had been so sick that day. And suddenly one day when I came back from school, she was gone. Daddy used to say she went to stay with my granny since she was getting old. With his nearly perished chappals Daddy would pedal me home. The evenings would end with eating roasted peanuts from the small guy standing near the corner of our house.

‘Mumma, when shall we reach home?’ I was jolted back to my world. My 2 year old son was nudging my skirt. I looked around. The warmth of my daddy’s eyes was nowhere to be seen. I craved for the peace and refuge. My yearning was met with the cold white walls of the airport. I looked down at the urn tied with red cloth at its mouth sitting on my lap.

‘We are finally making that trip Daddy’, I said as uninhibited tears poured out from my eyes.

How the love story ended..

'I don't love you anymore. I am sorry but I really don't', he said

It was a nice sunny day. I woke up early that day. He was still sleeping. After all these years, I still loved to see him sleep. His heavy breath making a soft gushing sound. His legs arranged in this peculiar fashion which hadn't changed in past 10 years. That peace on his face was a blessing to watch.

I thought I could make coffee for him by the time he wakes up. I walked across the bedroom towards the kitchen. I filled the kettle with water and left it to brew. By the time I got the mug of coffee to the bed, he was already up checking his phone. I waited for him to catch my eye, just to say good morning. He seemed too occupied to look around. Looked like he had some office work to attend early in the morning. I left the mug on the side table. I went back to the kitchen to get him some fruits. By the looks of it, it didn't seem that he is going to have an easy day. I pick up some bananas from the kitchen. As I entered the bedroom I saw him sorting some papers. It was seeming that I will have to nudge him a little so that he has a decent breakfast before he leaves. The expressions on his face were worrying me. It has been going on since a last few weeks. He seemed to be caught up with something. As if there was something bothering him. He seemed distant. I mentally made a note to talk to him about it that night.

I sighed as I shoved that thought aside. I turned towards him with the bananas in my hands. He too turned towards me as if wanting to talk. I waited for him to start. It has been so many years now that you know when your husband is trying to talk to you. He opened his mouth as if to speak but could not utter a word. He was holding in his hands those office papers which was keeping him occupied this entire morning. I wondered. He held those papers in his hands while fidgeting with them. I looked towards those papers. He was still fidgeting, but the title of those documents gave it away-  DIVORCE AGREEMENT.

All of a sudden I find myself in the middle of this violent storm... a storm of emotions. Its a hurricane. What started off as a light disturbance was turning out to be horrid blow up. Suddenly I was bombarded with a plethora of emotions. I was gripped by their cruel and unforgiving perusals. It was getting darker. The dark clouds of emotions were one on top of the other, toppling over. I had a feeling at the back of my head that the sun shall never come again. Soon there were violent winds howling in my face. The wind was trying to create a suction as if trying to take away all that I have. I was trying to hold my feet firm on the ground. I wrapped my arms around me tightly. I did not wish to give away any part of me. I knew this storm would leave me tattered. And I wanted things to stay the way they were. There was no way I was to allow these emotions to change me. I was unwilling to release the familiar security of my being at the moment. But I could see that my efforts were not enough. The more I tried, the harder it would seem.

There were few of my unanchored emotions which were plying for a firm hold now. They were my envies and insecurities. They seemed to be getting bigger as if they were feeding on my fears. I felt small. They were waiting for me to anchor them to steady waters or disown them forever. I wasn't ready to let go of them as yet. It was too much of an effort to anchor them to safety.

Till now, everything was fine. I was trying to go through the motions without really feeling anything. It was all good until now. I tried to hide my face, wanting to seek solace in the comforting arms of my mother. That is what I craved for.. the feeling that everything shall be well again. I was desperately trying to seek justice. I felt I did not deserve this.

I decided to spare myself the horror and stand up to face the storm. I decided to allow the storm to enter my soul. I lowered my guards. And suddenly out of nowhere these emotions were gripping me. Those emotions could I could feel everything. I was turning into an empath. The strong air of emotions was entering my unoccupied room of thoughts. I decided to accept and acknowledge. I gave myself the permission to feel every rip and every scratch it leaves in my heart. I decided to let it for once tear me apart. I felt each and every ounce of myself retaliating to my thoughts. I was hurting. I cried and grieved. Suddenly my life had been reduced to nothing. I was disappointed with my unawareness of where it was headed. My whole life felt like a lie. I did not know for how long had I been living in this facade. I was angry and disappointed. I felt tattered and tired. I could feel every emotion touching my body, entering and ripping a part of my soul. It felt as if I will not survive this. As I let every emotion kill a part of me, I wonder what will be left behind. May be it will be ‘nothing’ or may be 'everything'.

But I shall keep breathing. Shallow breaths, Slow breaths, Deep breaths- anything that helps me get out of this storm alive. I deserved better. I was worthy of the silver lining in the dark clouds. For now, it is just the dark clouds. But I shall keep breathing...

Little balls of shame

It sometimes amazes me how little we have evolved. Having lived in India I am aware of the male dominance in the society. I have read in books as to how there used to exists a disparity and gender bias earlier. Luckily for me, I have been born and brought up in a family where such kind of bias never existed. My parents acknowledged the need to treat us as equal to boys. Even when each of us, me and my sister were born they celebrated our birth by distributing pedhas amongst our families and friends. This was nearly more than 2 decades ago. And even today, people insist that the girls birth should be celebrated by distributing jalebis and boys birth by distributing pedhas. My parents undoubtedly had given out a loud and clear message- that they were proud to have us. Our gender did not matter to them. Our existence did.

After having spent nearly 30 years in my parent’s cocoon, everything seems so surreal. Having lived with my family, I was in a way protected from the cruel and harsh world outside. The goodness around which I had grown up had led me to believe that the world outside is similar to what I see inside my home. But I was wrong. It pained me to see how biased can the world be.

It was a hot sunny day. Jaipur, in the month of May can seem to be one hot furnace. Apart from the hot sun outside, those days were the ones of equivalent discomfort even at home. After my marriage in March, my in laws were visiting our house for the very first time. I still can feel all the rush of emotions I was experiencing that day.

I am usually very calm and composed, but my recent marriage has taught me that emotions can play complete havoc with your poise. I knew that I was doing my best and that there was nothing that I could do more. I was well prepared for any negative reaction that may come my way. Usually when you ready yourself for the worse, you unconsciously are paving a way to calm yourself. But nothing was helping back then, not even the moral support of my husband. I was living in constant fear. It would feel as if I am trying to sleep while a very heavy object is lying on my chest. The heaviness of the object is suffocating me and I am not able to do anything. The helplessness and the suffocation is what I felt while trying to live through those days.

While they were on their trip, it was second day of their trip and time for afternoon lunch. I had tried my best to prepare edible food for my in laws. Since my ma- in-law had insisted that I cook less food, there were lesser veggies today. But I was happy with the taste of the food. As the lunch hour came, I started to ready the plates. There were four of us. Usually, in our home when we have less food, we tend to divide the food almost equally only adjusting if there is someone has less appetite than others. I was going to do the same here. That is when my ma in law said “Let your father-in–law have more veggies. Your husband also likes it. We can have the rest remaining. I am fine with lesser veggies”. That sentence of hers struck me real hard. I was surprised. I meekly did what was told. Not that I was left hungry but that incident left my mind in jeopardy.

Not much time have passed since our wedding but still I always believed that I have been married off in a fairly modern family. When I had to take the decision of marriage, this was one of the check point on my list. I come from a fairy liberal family and therefore I fail to show any empathy towards the people who showcase rigid mentality. My parents have always taught me to question - be it tradition, religion, societal practices or rules. In fact I have always been afraid that if I am to face any such situation, I might show unnecessary defensiveness.

It was not that I was upset over having to take lesser food. Had I been in her place and I was the one serving the guests, I would also have taken smaller portions myself just so the guests could have a good meal. That is called courtesy. But here that wasn’t the case. She implied that the ladies of the house should settle for the remaining food so that their husbands could enjoy the meal. As I write down the chronological occurrence of this event, it still leaves me feeling giddy. It dawned on me as to what life had I chosen for myself. It is honestly scary. I am not sure which of the two feelings are more prominent. One is that I am scared for myself as to what awaits me and that it makes me sad to even think as to the kind of injustice which is being belted out on me. Secondly I cannot help but sympathize with my ma in law. She herself does not deserve such kind of treatment. I am aware that she is not causing any pain onto herself consciously. But she is unconsciously being unjust and unfair to her own self. It is wrong and I want to voice my opinion. But I wonder whether it will be looked in the light that it deserves. I am scared.

Till the time I come to terms with this incident, I have decided to keep this incident to myself. Every time I am reminded of this event, I go back to the same emotions that I had felt. It is the very reason why I do not share my emotional moments even with the people I am close to. The way out is to wait I guess. Wait until the tie I am ready to digest those little balls of shame.