Wednesday, September 4, 2013

“...when you know, you know. And you don't fight it. You don't deny the inevitable. You free fall because you know there's someone there to catch you on the other side.”

"It's like I know how to love but not how to make love."

"What am I there for.." he guffawed.

"And I don't even care about it too much you know. I mean I do care.. but not like that. Plus I have been too busy...." , and before she could complete her sentence, he held her close to him and said, "We don't have to, if you don't want to."

"What do you mean if I don't want to? We have been married for like two months now, let's just get over with it okay?"

"I don't want to get over with it. It should be an experience, for both of us."

And then they stood, eyes locked, hoping that the other will break the silence.

"Fine, we will talk about this after work", and with those words she stomped out of her appartment wondering what kept her from letting her own husband touch her.

That evening, Mira took a small detour and instead of veering into the grocery section of the supermarket, she went straight ahead, brought a bottle of vodka and finished it on her way.

By the time Kapil got back home, she was already sounding nothing like herself. But even then, in her mind, she wanted to trick her husband to have sex so that hopefully by the next morning she wouldn't remember anything in case things don't work out.

She tried unbuttoning his shirt, putting her full body weight on him because she could no more stand straight.

"Since when did you start drinking." , he asked, surprised.
"Just. Aise hi."

"Let me put you to sleep. Chalo, be a good girl now."
"But I don wana be a goood girl. Me-sa-bad che!"

"Okay fine. I will come with you okay."
"No. Let's do it. Right here. Right Now."

He held her by the waist and took her to the bedroom.
"I will get a class of water. Just wait here."

By the time he returned, her clothes lay in a clump on the floor, while she pranced around on the bed.
"Whaaa- what is wrong with you?"
"Let us make BABBIEESSS!!"

He realised it would be next to impossible to argue with her. He just brought her down with a gentle nudge.

"No, I don't want to listen. I just want to.....", she said, fiddling with his shirt buttons.
"NO. Look it doesn't matter to me. I swear, even though I want it to happen. I don't want to force you into anything ."

And all of a sudden she started hitting him.
"What do you mean by that you creep? What are you? Some goddamn saint or something?"
And almost as if to shut her up, he took her face in his hands and kissed her, wiping the tears of her face. His hands slid down her body, as she stood shivering against his touch.

He removed his clothes and got into the bed, beside her. He had dreamt of this moment, but he also wanted to be convinced that she wanted it too. He knew it wasn't easy for her, with her past where often people left her and almost never was she given any say. She settled for the first guy her parents chose for her, because she was too tired battling her emotions. Whereas for him, the athesist and the narcissist humbug - it was love at first sight.

And how could it not be? Her frail disposition, her honesty, her smiles which lit up her face not too often, her incessant urge to always trust people, to look for the best in them, to rescue stray puppies and demand for a balloon in a restaurant when the kid on the next table receives one.

Truth be told, he has had numerous limpid one night stands with women whose faces he can't remember. But if he could trade all of that, to just get his own wife to trust him, he would. If he would get her to believe that he would do anything but her hurt her, he would.

Next morning, he woke up to find that Mira had already left for office, leaving him a steaming cup of coffee on the bedside, and also a note which read, "If there was anything as the best thing.. in my life it would be you.

P.s: You saved last night from being a bummer and I know I don't say this too often but do love you. You are not just my exception. You ARE my reason.

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