Was Arth at Fault
by Lalsa Verma
It was 2001 Dec, too cold and I was shivering in my cab. It was 1.15 am and I was about to reach my office, my shift was to begin at 2.30 am. I was working with an International call center/BPO. Job was going well and I was expecting a promotion, I was a CCE (customer care executive). My company was recruiting trainees and so we could see new and some beautiful faces every night.
It was new-year eve and we all were waiting for that night, as it was a little different from rest working days hmm… no actually working nights. It was the most awaited office party with lots of music and of course free liquor. A handsome DJ playing with music, guys and gals hitting at other while others dancing and I being one of them….it was fun. When I reached the bar counter to pour some Vodka down my throat, I happened to meet a young girl of 21, a typical bong (Bengali - denizens of Bengal a state in India) with distinctive black hair, large eyes, dark skin, a pudgy nose and fleshy face. She was beautiful and alone. Our conversation started with a ‘hello’ and ended soon with the intervention of a friend of mine. New year came and 2002 brought with it a lot of contentment and a new person who gave me something more than a reason to live.
Something was unusual about her; she was too fast, fast in every thing as if she was born to beat time. She desired a complete life, a flawless one and it seemed that she’d never make a compromise and neither will she do that ever. She was very intelligent and it seemed that not even a single opportunity could escape her. She was a healthy girl with unembellished beauty and a genuineness that radiated a striking personal confidence. This genuineness and candidness were those traits that were difficult to find here. It was clear that the tinsel of a big city- the shimmering nights and irresistible fascinations have not touched her yet. This very attitude of her and that fire in her eyes continuously pulled me towards her. I was falling into captivity but I was completely oblivious of the fact that there was someone who was falling for me as well.
As I told earlier that she was too quick with everything she did, she was quick in making her way to my heart and then in expressing what she felt for me. While I was waiting for the right time to do the job of confession she was well equipped with what all she wanted me to hear. She came like a gust of air, showered me with her feelings, which were as gentle as rose petals, as pure as a shrine and as innocent as the smile of a baby.
It was a new beginning and on fumbling within I found a new self. I was a simple man whose brain worked less and heart more, a man for whom a clear soul and purity of heart was always heavier and strong than the temptations of the outer world. I lived every relationship and believed that they should be cherished and not be taken as a stressful responsibility. But her coming in my life made me realize that sometimes the temptations of outer world were not that dangerous as they looked.
We met everyday courtesy our job but still whatever time I spent with her was less for me. I finally took the decision of marrying her and this time I was a little faster and proposed her first. She was delighted by the very thought of marriage but still she wanted some more time to know me a little better and a little more though I strongly felt that there was nothing to know as nothing was hidden. I feel I was a puppet in her hands. She took all the decisions, right from our entering in the relation to her decision to give it some time and then our staying together, a live in. She felt that to know each other a little more, the best way out was to stay together under one roof. Well for me it was a beautiful dream come true, now she was right there in front of my eyes and I no longer had to wait for my shift to begin to see a glance of hers, we stayed like a wedded couple, shared everything, every single experience, joy, sorrow and every possible emotion. I was on the ninth cloud; I got what all I ever wanted. My mornings were as beautiful as never before with she beside me, my evenings so happening and nights so passionate. One such night was of chilling December. It was ten past five and I was watching TV, something very interesting but then I saw someone even more interesting. She had just come out of the bathroom in her white robe. She had a head bath and water dripped from her hair that fell unstyled to her shoulders framing the genuineness and innocence of her face. She came and sat near me, her large eyes and smooth lips were irresistible. I started untangling her hair and soon found my hands locking around her waist. She gave me a startled but an encouraging look. I kissed her, it was hot on her mouth and it felt good and exciting, slowly I let my fingers slide down her neck that made chill run down her spine and I could feel those shivers. I winked at her and started groping beneath her robe, I drew my fingers over her breasts, they were soft and the more my hands moved roughly over the more soft they felt. I enjoyed groping and finding my way to her privates while she kissed me all over my neck and fiddled with my earlobes. Slowly untying her robe’s knot I took it off her smooth and sensual body. Shoving down my tracks I made her lie down on the daybed and kissed her again letting my tongue meet hers and then allowing my tongue to meet and feel her entire mouth. Now working downwards I rolled my fingers over her stomach gently licking her belly-button. I was over her parting her legs and making space for myself I slid hard up into her. A minute latter catching my breath what all I could say was that” it was amazing.”
And that was the time when I realized that she was a super seductress and it’ll be impossible for me to push this night out of my mind. This was for the first time we made love and experienced the power of love.
Click on this: next column
It was Sunday and we both were taking pleasure in watching Oprah (repeat telecast) when suddenly she rushed to bathroom, what I could hear was her puking. Two minutes later she came out with a pale face but bright eyes, she told me, she was expecting. I was blank for two seconds, as I never expected to be a father at the age of 23 and my girlfriend a mother at 21. But when I came back to senses there was no limit to my ecstasy. I was just about to father a baby and enjoy the biggest gift of nature. But I saw she was a little apprehensive about the whole thing. She said “she want to get rid of it as soon as possible.” I was at a loss of words, how can a girl say like this, it was the biggest reason why God created women. Wasn’t she longing to take that little gift in her hands and relish the completeness of her very being? After a long argument she finally agreed to deliver the baby, but the unfortunate part of it was that she agreed not because of love or awakening of motherhood in her but because of the authority I exercised over her, authority that was never given to me.
Time passed and we became father and mother but not husband and wife as she felt that marriage was not necessary, what was important for her was love, our love to enrich Arth’s (my son) life.
Another Sunday and we all, three of us were watching Tom and Jerry and not Oprah as Arth was one and a half years old and has learnt how to operate the TV remote.
She got a call from a very old friend who was in Kolkata and has of late shifted to Delhi, he wanted to meet her and also hand her over Sondesh, (a Bengali sweet dish) which her mother has sent for her. She was enchanted by the call and next whole week what all I could hear were the tales of their childhood and what fun it was being his friend. Just like any other husband I too wanted to meet her friend who was so close to her but I forgot that we were sharing the responsibility of parenthood and not the emotions of a married couple. So there was no scope of me or Arth meeting him. I was a little uncomfortable with all what was going on but my discomfort didn’t bother anybody. They met as good friends and things were back to normal in my life, it was the day for celebration, it was Arth’s birthday, he had turned two, we were in Pizza Hut when she got a call from home and after that she was a little upset and a little lost. We went back and then the whole week I didn’t get to inquire as what was disturbing her because now her shift was during the day and mine was graveyard shift. Finally on Saturday we were together and when I persuaded her she told that her parents wanted her to get married. I never understood that what the problem was, we could get married anytime. Slowly I started feeling that her friend’s comeback was overshadowing my very existence. Now her weekends were all for him and what share of her free time we got was meager. Everywhere was he and Arth and I were almost sidestepped. Her preferences were changing or I think were resurfacing. Nightlife, discos, hangouts, fun, and frolic she has always liked it all but because of me she somehow convinced herself and started evading what she has once liked. But with her friend coming back into the scene she saw a possibility of reliving all that and what I could do was just witness this sea change in my life helplessly. This practice continued for sometime, though I thought it’d remain the same for the rest of my life…. you’re thinking that I was blessed, no I was not. Then one day she told me that her parents are coming down to Delhi and the only reason for this arrival was her marriage. I said, “It’s absolutely fine, I’ll take off and we can meet them…right??” she smiled and said, “they want me to marry him”.
“Who? Your friend?”
“Yes.”
I was not able understand, I said “and you?” she didn’t reply but her eyes could not hide what was going inside her. “I can explain it to you, I have some personal problems, my dad, I mean….we can’t take forward this relationship anymore” she said. I had plethora of questions surging in me, personal problems…was I not a part of her personal life? Her dad….and our Arth? She said she can explain me but actually she failed to do that.
And then one fine day she left, she left behind our two years old Arth, who’ll suffer without doing anything wrong, for rest of his life and me as well. I will suffer too but I think I deserve it as I did something wrong…rather committed a felony, a felony of loving her and trusting her…
|
|
|
Lalsa Verma was born to be a writer, as she says. She is now living Mumbai working on screenplays. |
She has a wonderful blog site full of nice poems and essays : Lalsa Verma .
Thanks Lalsa for the story... John Wolf
