This post has been written as part of the writetribe initiative.
***“Ajay, I’m leaving you.”
“What?” If a bolt had hit him from
the blue, he couldn’t have been more taken aback. “What’s wrong with us?” he
managed to say.
“I don’t know. All I know is that
I’m just not happy with you anymore.”
“But..but what have I done wrong? You’ve got to tell me!”.
“Where do I start?” I paused for a moment. “Ok, remember my miscarriage?”
It was something we didn’t talk much about, especially after our now 3-year old
daughter, Aditi, had come into our lives. But I had to bring it up to make a point.
“Yes, what about it?”
“Well, you weren’t there at the hospital with me, were you? And I needed
you more than anybody else at that time.”
“We’ve been through this before. I told you I was hosting the annual
office Christmas party. Everybody was there, I was the chief host. I just HAD to be there. I did keep constantly
in touch with the hospital on the phone, you know.”
“Remember the time my parents had taken a stopover in Mumbai on their
Singapore-Paris journey just to see us one evening? I told you weeks in advance
to keep that evening free. But you HAD to fly out of town on just THAT day! Now
my dad’s gone forever…”
“I know – and I feel really bad about it. You know I liked your dad. But
when I flew out that morning to Delhi, I was very sure the contract would be
signed in a couple of hours and I could be comfortably back by evening. But those
guys suddenly wanted to go through all the fine print and the meeting went on
till late evening. I really couldn’t help it, dear”.
“And is there a reason you call
Aditi Aditya all the time? You always said it didn’t matter whether it was a
girl or a boy, as long as we had a baby. Yet, you’ve never once called her by
her name. Is there a problem, Ajay?”
“Oh, that!” he laughed. “No, not at all! She’s my little boy”.
“No, she isn’t. She’s our little girl. And if you have a problem with
that, fine. I’ll rephrase that - she’s MY little girl.”
“Come on now, don’t be silly. You’re blowing these small things way out
of proportion. Ok, so you’re right about all this stuff – but haven’t I made it
up to you every single time? After the miscarriage, I took you to London to
make you feel better. And I did get you a diamond bracelet to say sorry for not
being able to meet your parents, didn’t I?”
“That’s just it, Ajay. That’s exactly the problem. For you these are
“small” things – which you can “make up for” with a gift. Well, you know what?
Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart. And
after so many of these “small things”, there really isn’t any room left in my
heart anymore. Maybe you wanted a trophy wife – you sure picked the wrong
person to marry then. I’m leaving you, Ajay – and I’m taking Aditi with me.”
“You can’t! You wouldn’t! Where will you go anyway? You need me. A man.
You don’t know how tough it is for a woman out there on her own. That too with
an infant child”.
“Thanks for your concern. But I’ll manage just fine, thank you. I don’t need a man in my life. It’s a myth
that a woman needs a man to take care of her”.
Ajay was stunned. He’d never seen his wife like this.
As I left, I called back from the driveway. “By the way, I’ve left
the diamond bracelet and all your other fancy guilt gifts in the cupboard. Feel
free to worship the cupboard now. You can even call it Aditya if you like”.
***
