Chương 12: The marriage that never was ….

Even though Aryaman was busy in election campaigns, still he did not forget to call Myra daily. She was his life line, his mark of sanity and kept him going even when the odds were against him. As a result, the democrats won by substantial difference and Aryaman took an oath as the next Vice-President.

Despite his busy schedule, he found time for himself and Myra. And he never forgot his promise to her. He called again and often: at work hours, at family hours, at odd hours and at all hours. She did not mind; why should she? Was she not so full of him? Thinking about him, recalling his words, his facial expressions. Did she not always wait for his calls?

"How are you?" – he asked of her one day

"Good" – she replied

"How have you been all these years?" he asked again. He wanted to know more about her.

There was a long pause in which her bruises surfaced one by one. But her mind, which was entangled in the Raichand sensibilities, could hardly understand what was wrong. Yet, the heart ached…eyes filled with unknown tears...and a lump formed in her throat.

"Hey…" came the appeal from him

"I don't know how to express it," Myra eventually spoke, "he is nice to me, attentive towards my daily requirements and fulfills them. I just have to name a thing and it is brought to me. But then there is silence between us. I may be talking to him and he hears me, I know it because he would be looking at me, yet I know he is not listening to me. His eyes, though turned towards me, is always looking beyond me. Sometimes he is upset for nothing…absolutely nothing at all. And then he turns ice cold and is rude and insulting."

Aman shivered, the chill in her words struck his heart. I may be there in his room…I am there in his life, but I am not there in his heart and its emotions. That baffles me. Try as I may, and I have tried very hard Aman, sometimes so hard and with such determination...but it is always so difficult to anticipate him…to please him…to be worthy of him. Try as I might, I cannot reach him. He lives in some distant plane to which I have no access." And the hard lump formed again…and once again bitter disappointment clouded her vision and a lump began throbbing in her head…. "Oh!" she moaned

"What's it?"

"It's one of those nasty headaches."

"Take some rest, take something for it"

"No, I don't like taking medicines."

"Why not Myra? What is the need to suffer? Why not cure it immediately?"

"I don't know… I just hate medicines…and I know I am going to be fine soon."

"Would you like to sleep…shall I put you off to sleep?"

She smiled; "How would you do that?"

"Wait" – he switched on some music, her favourite music and together they listened to it and dozed off into peaceful and restful sleep.

It was evident to Aman that she was not loved…that her expectation of love, a husband's love, had been brutally crushed. There was some solace even in this pain… her pain! Among all other emotions, most precious to him was his jealousy and his possessiveness for her.

"Tell me, how was it when you got married?" he asked one day

"The first day of our marriage, he told me not to expect anything out of him." She replied.

"Did he give you any reason?"

"No. All he said was that our marriage was a business arrangement between the two families and he will treat it as that." She elaborated. This new insight into her own feelings, that kept surfacing one by one, was all too baffling for her intellect.

"Now you see?" – he said

"But, that's not true." – she said passionately. "He has always been attentive towards me and is very protective of me. He has rescued me from some very difficult situations in the past."

"You don't get it, do you?" Aman scoffed. He was irritated by her expectations from her husband.

"I know he cares for me."

"You are delusional and stupid." He was furious.

To be forced into marrying him was one thing but to want his love; to suffer when it was withheld from her - was the ultimate betrayal. "Why should she want him? Why can't she see he is clearly not into her? She belongs to me not him." – he said passionately. "She is mine…we are alike…carved out of the same rock."

For days he agonized over it, but would dare not own it to her. Instead, he tried to divert her mind from her sufferings to more casual topics. However, this diversion was offensive to her. The floodgate to her sorrow, once opened, could not be shut. She wanted to pour herself empty into him. She could not understand how he could be so casual about her feelings. She had hoped he would sympathize with her, be the shoulder to lean on; take charge of her life and show her a way to solve her problems.

But Aman offered no assistance. He only listened. He knew there was no point in rationalizing with her. She was too mixed up to understand anything. He only dug deep and brought to surface all those buried emotions within her – emotions connected to him and those to her husband.

Muddled by them, she grew irritable and deeply insecure. She would quarrel with him: accuse him of not knowing her well enough, not understanding her and not caring enough for her. When Aman was exasperated by her irrational complaints and wanted to disconnect the call, she would cling more intensely to him. "No, don't go; please don't go." She would plead.

"I am not going anywhere…I will never leave you again." – he assured her. "I am also baffled by your mixed emotions, Myra. I need some time to clear my head. I will call again tomorrow."

And she hung onto his words: hoping, yearning and fearing until he called again and the same cycle repeated itself each day.

bình luận bình luận của 0

Bình chọn

GỬI QUÀ TẶNG

Load failed, please RETRY