TotaLLy TaBoO Paaart- 3

NIMISH:

Everytime Preksha smiled, his heart jumped for joy. He knew she was married and thought her husband was an insensitive asshole. How could any man bear to see, or even see, let alone be the cause of...those lovely eyes sad.

When Preksha was sad, or happy, you could see it in her eyes. Anything she was feeling, was clearly there for everyone to see. She never really bothered to hide her feelings, probably not the best thing to do or the most tactful. But she was honest. And it was just as well no one really bothered looking into anyone's eyes anymore. Those eyes could speak volumes and he could read forever. Sometimes, words were not needed. When he first saw her, in the office, there were no fireworks. There were no songbirds chirping around his head or violins stringing their songs.

Truth be told, He didn't even take a second look.

It was only a few months into the job, that he noticed her. She was always, always alone.

She ate her lunch alone, took her coffee break alone, she rarely talked to anyone regarding anything outside of work. And her eyes, behind her glasses, were sad. Flirt he maybe, in the office...but it never went beyond that. She wore shapeless clothes, designed to camouflage her figure. There was always something wrong about her person. A stain on her dress, a button missing, an old pair of shoes, never any jewellery. Sometimes she wouldn't comb her hair. She had lovely hair, a stunning mass of thick black waves which she never left loose. Once he chanced to see it when he entered the coffee room. She had unpinned it and was massaging her temples and nursing a cup of espresso...and obviously a terrible headache. Somedays she would wear the same outfit two days running. And then one day, he noticed her crying. The entire time she was at work. No one noticed. She didn't bawl like a baby, but it was just, quiet tears. Drip, drip. Wipe. Drip and discreet wipe. She never wore makeup so smudging it was not a problem. She spent two hours out of eight in the coffee room. Crying. When he asked her if she was OK, she didn't answer. She had never looked this sad in all those months. He was worried. It didn't matter to him that no one else noticed. The world was callous. He wondered what could be so wrong...maybe a fight with her husband...correction, a huge fight. She looked low everyday anyway. He wondered what would help.

Perhaps a flower.

A daisy...they were so cheerful. Bright yellow centres, bound to make you smile. A note, telling her to be happy. At least she would know someone was there to talk to.

She came back the next day. They became friends. And then a month later, more.

It was two months later that she told him, his small gesture had saved her life. Literally.

She took much better care of herself now. Always well dressed, polished, more importantly, bearing a smile that reached her eyes. She stunned the office the next day...she had been hiding behind a wall, afraid of looking good...being her best. And no one cared to see beyond her fine features. No one saw beyond the obvious, beyond sometimes...flashy.

Turned out she was all that too! Who knew?!

He loved taking care of her. Sharing his lunch with her. Eating her delicious lunch. She was an excellent cook, there was no doubting that. Getting her coffee, taking walk breaks. Being her friend. Bringing her back to life.

He wondered how her fool of her husband failed to notice the death of their marriage...how little he cared...? What could be more important than putting a smile on the face of your beloved? Putting money in your bank account? Which was more important, more essential to life...? Food on one's plate, or joy in one's heart? What was the point of a full belly and tearful eyes? The combination makes life worthless.

When he took her out on dates, and just took her hand, her eyes glowed with happiness. It seemed all she wanted, was an acknowledgement, that she was loved...perhaps it was that acknowledgement that had gone out of her marriage. Often happened. She spoke about her husband, but never mentioned his name. That would have brought him to life, as if he wasn't a glaring light in their relationship as it was.

She spoke of him in a remniscent manner, as if he was no more. In a sense, He wasn't. He wasn't the man she'd married. Or the one she'd fallen in love with. Or the one who promised never to be the cause of a tear in her eye. Or the one who promised to take care of all her problems, anything that fell into her lap. The one who promised never to take her for granted or try to change her. Never to restrict her in anyway. To listen to any and everything she said. It was another thing that she didn't say much.

"Har koi pyaar ke liye bhookha hota hai, usey jahaan bhi pyar milta hai, chala jaata hai." [Everyone is hungry for love, whereever they get it, they go.]

That was the only reasonable excuse to justify what they were doing. Their relationship. What it was worth, was something only they knew and understood. They didn't feel the need to justify themselves to anyone. There was no point. She had no friends and he...well he did have a few close friends...only one of whom was married...a gym buddy of sorts. He'd never met his wife...he talked about her a lot, but never took up Nimish's suggestions for a get together...maybe he was embarassed by her...maybe she was fat or ugly... Even he didn't know. Nimish wondered why marriages went this way...perhaps he would ask Rajat.

A Leap Of Faith.

"Isn't She beautiful? Her sari is so heavy and bright and different...and her make up is just...so perfect...!", exclaimed Alekya's relatives as they examined the bride to be minutely.

"Yes, yes...true...I think the nose ring is too small though...", they criticized as if she were either absent or deaf.

"It's almost time...the baraat is here...I'm just going to go check Tarun out, be back soon!", whispered her sister excitedly as she left.

Alekya felt her stomach lurch. There was no way she could go out there. She felt nauseous and her heart was racing. She clasped her hands together to stop them from trembling pretending that she could squeeeze them so hard the pores would close and perhaps they would stop sweating. Not working! So much for medical scientific logic. Deep breaths now, deep breaths.

No one, except Tarun probably, would even take a wild guess as to how she was feeling. After all, they could practically read each other's minds now. That was what being together for ten years did to you. The duration of their relationship was also the reason why no one would understand how she was feeling. Lets face it, she wasn't the most communicative of people. And even while she presented her precise logic to people, they failed to grasp it in the first go and she never had the patience to present her case twice. Why bother now?With Tarun it was different, he understood and he was her best friend.

But even after ten years, she had her doubts about them. Together. Married. She was scared shitless. There were times she felt she were one with Tarun, and times when she felt he was a total stranger.

"They're here! You're Dulha looks so handsome!! Lucky girl...But he didn't come on a Ghodi...he came in a car...! Guess both of you are well...different. You ready to go out now...?", her aunt came and chattered away.

"Just give me a few mintues, I need to be alone for a bit.", replied Alekya quietly.

"NOW? You want to be alone now? There are people waiting for the jaimal!", exclaimed her aunt.

Seeing no point in replying, Alekya kept her mouth shut. Her aunt left the room and shut the door.

Tears welled up in her eyes. Damn it, not now, not after all those hours of sitting still for make up. No tears. Just thoughts.

Mentally she made a list of all the things she was scared of. Making lists was something she was good at and did whenever she felt overwhelmed. Always helps.

She was scared of his temper. It was the cold kind. He would treat her like a stranger.
She was scared of his family commitments.
She always had the feeling his mother and sister didn't like her very much.
Then again, it was an age old problem, generations of women had been through this, the saas nanad wars...why should she be any different? But they were overpossesive...and while they clearly saw the fights between her and Tarun, no one saw the love. No one saw how much she cared. She put his life and happiness before hers. She went out of her way to make him feel special...No one saw that. Any little thing his sister did for him was praised to the skies...whereas Alekya was never praised that way. Nothing she did for Tarun or his family, sister included...was very well recieved. That wasn't the reason she did things...but it pained her that she wasn't on the same level or even close, as Tarun's sister, even if she treated his family like her own, in fact better.
She would've been ok with all that...if her own mother praised her occasionally, like Tarun's mother did her kids...blindly at times. But Mom didn't...she wasn't like that. She didn't feel the need to excessively praise her kids or defend them when someone was talking nonsense about them. No matter how much people's words hurt her.
Alekya didn't want to enter a family where she was anything less than a daughter to her in laws. And anything less than a sister to her sister in law. Of course she would've preferred if Tarun had had a cheerful loving younger brother who'd love his bhabhi and want to bond with her. But we have to make the best of what we have.
She was also scared of Tarun's passiveness. She was the one who planned dates, raised thought provoking topics of conversations, found new things for them to do...she took most of the initiative in the relationship...kept it going.
And she was the more romantic one... Not that Tarun wasn't romantic...he was, when they were alone, he was the most tender man she knew. No one in the outside world, not even his family, could guess about this side of his nature. But he wasn't the one who googled "how to make your beloved feel special" on the internet...nor did he give unconventional gifts...and she was scared that they would get bored...she would get bored. Or fed up. She'd stop nagging him to be more romantic.
Then there was his whole, huge extended family. Most of whom had a poor opinion of her...without even having met her. Three guesses.

She couldn't go out. She couldn't face them. No one out there knew how much she loved him. All they wanted to see was the negative side which had been presented to them. No one even expected Tarun to be that "Type", as someone put it...the type who had a steady girlfriend. He was so simple, so sweet, so shy, so polite. So honest. Not the type at all! So it was probably the "tez" shrewed girl who had trapped him.

"Didi its time, come on. Up now.", her sister had come to drag her out.

"No. I'm not going."

"WHAT? Where? To get married? WHY?"

"I can't. I don't think it will work. "

"After TEN years you think it won't work? What are you saying?"

"Just...I can't go. Take me out the back door...please."

"Ok, Just...wait...Let me get Tarun...", Her sister started rushing out the door and ushering everyone else out too.

"NO! No, he'll be so angry... he'll never forgive me."

Before she knew it, her sister had left and she was alone again. And then Tarun walked through the door...smilling...
He sat down on the chair next to hers...and took both her hands in his...he put one finger under her chin and tilted her face up to look into her eyes. They were brimming with fear and tears.

"Hey Sweetheart...your sister said you're getting cold feet...is everything ok? Tell me what's bothering my baby...?", Tarun squeezed her hands gently and said.

And as she looked into his huge, warm, gold brown eyes, crinkled at the corners in a gentle smile of understanding... She felt her doubts ,melting away...but not quite.

Their relationship flashed before her eyes...

Beautiful flowers, his complimenting her snoring, making love, Tarun helping her cross the road, Tarun indulging her love for coffee, His sincere, neat painstakingly written letters and cards, Tarun taking her shopping and linking little finger's together, Tarun holding her hand in the cinema, Tarun wiping her tears, Tarun calming her rage, Tarun applauding her awkward dancing, Tarun telling her she had a beautiful voice, Tarun telling her not to worry about his mother and sister, that he was there for her and he'd never let her feel awkward, Tarun listening to her chatter about work, writing, friends, moviess, books, Tarun recharging her mobile without telling her, Tarun enjoying eating with her hands, Tarun playing with her dog, Tarun fixing her laptop, Tarun making her music and movie Dvds, Tarun sharing his things with her, silly possessive loveable adorable Tarun.

"How about we go to the nearest Barista and you can have that Caramel coffee you love and we'll talk?", he gently persuaded.

"But what about all these people?", Alekya mumbled.

"AHHH....them...we'll tell them to wait awhile. Its us who're getting married...lets go. Back door."

He left a text message to his cousin brother saying we both would be back shortly.

He held the hand of his bride and helped her out. They caught an auto and headed to the nearest Barista and didn't care that everyone else was staring at them. There, over a shared cup of hot foaming capuccino, Alekya talked...Tarun listened and they discussed their fears. It was an uncommon sight. Frankly the manager came by and asked if he could click a picture as this sort of thing had never happened before. Gladly they allowed. By then they were ok. Ready to go, get wed!

Tarun had his fears too...but if they both had faith, it would work. They had been together for ten years. The had love and faith and were best friends.

It was time to get married.

CrAviNg CoFfEe...

My mom insists I'm addicted to coffee. I used to have around 4-5 cups of the beautiful brew in black daily. Sometimes more, if I had to study. But ever since i started this new job 10 days ago, I have been so exhausted I can't even muster the strength to make me a cuppa java. I've only had 5 cups in the past 10 days.

Upon hearing this my parents immediately expressed their delight and decided to give me more tips on how to stop drinking coffee. They're not alone in doing so. Many people give useless and more importantly, unwanted advice on quitting coffee.

Imagine their surprise when I coolly imform them I am not interested in quitting my "addiction". I love my cup of coffee. I love the bitter sweetness and musings in a cup. I love almost everything about a delicious cup of coffee. And I know how much to have so as not to get sick. Or gastritis!

We all sometimes feel the need for something, call it a crutch if you will, to help us get by life. For all those times when we find ourselves not brimming with natural endorphins and optimism? For all those times life tries to get us down [ several times a day sometimes.] we have something. A pick me up. Who is to say whose is harmful whose is safe? I'm not talking about big things like alchohol or drugs....not things which can ruin one's life in an obvious manner.

The other tiny addictions which we often fit into out daily routine in such a way that we don't even realise how much we need them, until our routine is upset in some way. It could be our family. Or a TV show that makes us laugh or gasp in horror [K-serials.], or several or few cups off tea or coffee, or our better half, or a few phone calls and conversations to friends to vent. For some it could be an intense round of sex or even pot. A cigarette on the balcony. Daily exercise. Love, even.

All of these in excess are harmful.

But no one advises us to quit them.

Apparently now coffee makes one hallucinate. Well, you're going to have to quit your Doctor because your doctor isn't going to quit his/her coffee! It keeps most of us on the go. That or tea. Or money.

Think about it, before you offer up unwelcome advice to someone else. Whats your addiction? And is it such a bad thing? If it helps soften the sharp corners life has to offer sometimes...?