‘Abhay, it is okay, sweetie. We will video-tape the whole thing and send it to Papa. He will see it from Korea,’ I quickly intervene before Sandeep can say anything, creating a truce between father and son.
Later, I cannot help thinking how right Abhay is. Sandeep is never around to witness and appreciate any of Abhay’s accomplishments at school. It is always I who attend all his events and everything he participates in. I recall how Abhay, while in kindergarten, many years ago, was participating in a function on his school day, where he was a rabbit and had to hop across the stage in a bunny costume. Sandeep had taken off to play golf as usual, saying he could not attend, as he found such events boring and had no interest in seeing a bunch of kids prancing about on stage. I had felt bad, but quietly accepted. Over the years, it had become a pattern. Sandeep would wash his hands off anything to do with Abhay, and I was always the ever-present parent. Abhay too had quietly accepted it and today was the first time he was speaking out. My little boy is growing up and standing up to his father. Secretly I am proud of Abhay.
Of course, I say nothing.
Later that night, when Sandeep wants his usual dose of loveless sex, I shudder and clench my fists as I lie quietly while he pounds away, oblivious to the turmoil inside me. I hate Sandeep now. I do not want to be touched by him anymore. I recall how magical and how different it was with Ankit. I grit my teeth as he comes.
Then I leap out of bed and go into the bathroom feeling defiled, polluted and completely miserable. I wait until I hear his snores. Then I stand under the shower for a long time, the hot water soothing my body.
I slowly realise that everything between Sandeep and me has changed from this moment onwards. This is perhaps the last straw, the breaking point. It had been heading towards this all this while, but I had refused to accept it. Ankit entering my life all of a sudden has been the catalyst too. It has very clearly shown me just how much I have put up with, all these years. I feel that I cannot bear to live with this man anymore. I do not want to be touched by him again.
I wonder how I can break it to him
Darling, I met my old flame and we had awesome sex and now I want a divorce.
How in the world would I explain this to Sandeep? I realise too that, deep down, the coward that I am, I am actually scared of him as well. Telling him I want out will take a lot of courage. Also, I realise with a kind of helplessness that financially too, I am totally dependent on him. I have never worked and never earned anything in my life. How in the world will I manage if I break away? I know nothing about divorce and child custody and alimony. I have only read about and heard of people going through these difficult and painful issues.
Perhaps that is also one of the reasons I have never stood up to him. It is easier to just go with the flow and give in to all that he says.
I am suddenly glad that he is going to Korea. If nothing else, it will at least give me some time to sort out the tangled mess that I find myself in.
Tanu calls the next day.
‘Hey, babes, want to go house-hunting with me? I have to finalise my apartment soon. The real estate agency that my company hires has some houses. I am going today and tomorrow to see them. Would you like to come?’ she asks.
‘What time, Tanu? I have to be back here at three thirty as Abhay comes back then.’
‘Tell your mother-in-law to keep him for today. I am sure she won’t mind.’
‘Yes, Tanu, but I haven’t told Abhay to get off at the other stop, and neither have I informed the school. I can do that only tomorrow as he is already in school now,’ I explain patiently. It strikes me how clueless Tanu really is when it comes to children and organising their activities. One’s life totally changes when one has children. Every single thing that you do revolves around them, their schedules, their meal-times, their nap-times. I sometimes forget how inexperienced Tanu is in all of this.
‘Oh, okay. Never mind then. I will drop you back at three thirty, and tomorrow you make the arrangements, okay?’ she says.
I readily agree.
I debate and think to myself whether I should share what happened between Ankit and me with Vibha and Tanu. It is something so amazing, so powerful and so incredible that I want to hug it all to myself. I am not ready to share it just yet. I know I will eventually, but for now, it is all too new, too raw and I am overwhelmed by it all. Also, I feel what I have with Ankit is something magical. I want to preserve it as a secret for as long as possible. It is very special and I want to protect it and hold it close to my heart.
I keep glancing at the phone for messages from Ankit. He does not disappoint. He is in the midst of meeting clients at Goa. But any break he gets, he texts me. I immediately reply back.
He tells me about the deal he is finalising.
I tell him what I am cooking.
He tells me how much he misses me, that he wants to see me real soon.
I reply that I just can’t wait either.
It is only when I suddenly get Gaurav’s text asking if I want to encash that rain check today after class, that I remember his previous texts and also that there is a salsa class. My head is full of Ankit now. He seems to have overtaken everything. Every single thing really.
I feel bad about turning down Gaurav a second time. The last time he asked, I had postponed it. So I text back saying that we could grab a quick cup after class.
I get another text from Ankit.
‘Doesn’t your phone have an IM?’ it reads.
‘No. Mine is an ancient outdated phone. I can’t even access the Internet from it.’ I type back and hit send.
The phone buzzes after a few seconds.
‘What? I don’t believe this. I am gifting you an iPhone when we meet next,’ Ankit writes.
‘I don’t care about the“I”-phone. I just want “U’ with or without the phone,’ I type.
‘Soon, meine liebe. Soon,’ he replies.
I run to the computer to google what meine liebe means and when I know that it means ‘my love’ in German, I beam with happiness.
I tell Ankit over text that I am going for my salsa class and will text him when I get back. He says he didn’t know I learnt salsa. He asks me to teach him some moves.
I promise him that I will the next time we meet. I want to know when that will be.
‘In about four days, will see you again,’ he replies,
I truly can’t wait.
As I hurry to the salsa class, I think about just how much my life has changed in a matter of forty-eight hours. Three days back, there was no Ankit in my life. Now it seems as though I cannot live without him. It all seems so strange, so surreal. I had never really thought of extramarital affairs before this. But now that I am embroiled in a full-fledged one, I realise I want to know more about it. Are there more couples like us? I think of every married couple I know. Who knows how many secrets their married life holds? Perhaps they have all cheated on their spouses at some point or the other?
Today in class we are learning a step where the guy has to do a double-handed turn which also involves a crossover step, where the guy has to turn the woman after he takes a turn himself and comes back to his initial position. The whole thing is done in quick succession and the movement of the guy as well as his partner has to flow seamlessly. It is a slightly complicated move. We begin by practising what we have learnt in the first two classes and for the first half hour, Lorraine ensures that we all get whatever steps we have learnt so far perfectly.
Lorraine addresses Gagan as well as Pavan.
‘You both need to practise your steps, guys. You have to practise, practise and practise hard. Unless your basics are perfect, how will you be able to do this move?’ she gently admonishes them, as she and Varun display the step perfectly.
‘Diksha and the others, you are all doing great. Good going,’ she says and I bask in her praise.
‘Okay, let’s start now. We do one round and then rotate partners. Come on,’ says Lorraine and turns up the music.
All of us have got into the rhythm of the dance. I thoroughly enjoy this particular lesson. Now that we have conquered the basics, we all feel more confident of trying a slightly more complicated move. We finish a round and then we rotate partners. We have all now got used to the idea and have become good at it. We know what to do now, without being told or prompted. While I enjoy dancing with Pavan or Gagan, it is when Gaurav dances with me and I am able to move perfectly. In salsa, I discover, a lot depends on your partner. If your partner is good, then it becomes that much easier, as men always ‘lead and guide’ the women in this dance.
I am fully absorbed in dancing with Gaurav when I sense something is very wrong by the expression on his face. He looks startled and stops dancing.
The music too suddenly stops and I hear Lorraine say,‘What the hell is happening here?’
I turn back and I freeze. It takes me a few seconds to register that the person stomping wildly into the dance floor is Sandeep. The stonefaced look and cold rage on his face makes me shudder. I feel sick to the pit of my stomach. My hands turn icy-cold as I clench my fists involuntarily. My heart sinks.
‘DIKSHA,’ he thunders. There is so much force in his voice, something I have never heard before. ‘WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?’ he asks.
I don’t know what to do and I feel like a trapped animal. I want the ground to swallow me up. It feels as though somebody has shoved a stick down my throat and I cannot utter a word.
Everybody’s eyes are on me, as if to ask who is this guy and what is my relationship with him.
‘Excuse me, what is happening here? You cannot enter the dance floor like this. You are disrupting a class,’ says Lorraine stepping forward.
‘FUCK your dance class. I am talking to my WIFE,’ he says as he charges towards me and yanks me roughly by the hand and drags me. I lose my balance and almost fall.
‘Hey, watch how you treat a lady,’ says Gaurav as he steadies me.
The next thing I know, Sandeep has swung out and punched Gaurav on the face with his right hand. With his left hand he grips me so tightly, it hurts.
‘BASTARD, you stay out of this. You asshole. HOW DARE YOU? You will fucking stay out of this.’ He spews profanities. His voice is loud and I am very frightened.
Gaurav is too stunned to react.
Sandeep drags me across the dance floor. I am ashamed, embarrassed and too terrified to protest or react. I go with him meekly.
He shoves me roughly into the car.
‘What the fuck, Diksha? What the fuck is this? You go around shaking your tits with other men, like a cheap whore? Have you forgotten you are married?’
Each word feels like a slap on my face. Which century is Sandeep living in? I was only dancing, something I love doing, something I am good at. How can he be so narrow-minded? How dare he do this? Treat me like I am his personal slave.
How did he find out where I was? And what is he doing away from work?
All these questions reel inside my head. But I am unable to speak. I sit quietly like a statue made of marble, even as Sandeep drives like a maniac, in a fury.
‘Why are you sitting there quietly now? Are you not going to speak?’ he snarls.
I want to ask him what is wrong in my wanting to learn the salsa. I want to tell him that even his mother knows about it. I want to point out to him that there is a huge gap in his thinking and mine. I want to tell him we were never really made for each other and I have never been happy with him.
But I continue sitting in the car, tears streaming down my cheeks, too humiliated, too stunned too battered and too frightened to speak out.
Sandeep, with this act of his, has crushed my spirit. I never knew he was capable of violence. His hitting Gaurav has shaken me up completely. I realise, I don’t even know the man I married, anymore. We have grown so apart.
I feel defeated, broken, and very vulnerable.
But more than anything, I feel so trapped.
Twenty-One
THE SHAME AND HUMILIATION I FACED IN FRONT of everyone in the salsa class hurt me more than anything else. I hadn’t really talked about my personal life with anyone there and only Gaurav knew I was married and had a son. I had let the others presume that I was single. It wasn’t that I was ashamed of being married, it was just that I did not bother to clarify really. Perhaps, at some level, I enjoyed the deception too. I was there to learn salsa, and I had made a friend in Gaurav. I hadn’t really got to know the others in class. But what Sandeep did has completely spoilt it for me. I know that I cannot ever go back and face the others after this shameful episode. I will not be able to stand the looks of pity and more than anything, I am so ashamed to be married to someone like Sandeep now.
I see three text notifications from Gaurav. But I am too terrified to open and read them in front of Sandeep, lest he snatches the phone from my hand and reads my messages. So I hide in the bathroom later and read them. The first one asks if I am okay. The second one, sent after a while, says: ‘Hope things are fine. I am really upset with your husband; this is no way to behave. I fear for your safety.’
The third one reads: ‘Please, please text back to let me know you are fine.’
I hurriedly text back saying that I am fine and that we will speak tomorrow.
Sandeep doesn’t utter a word to me while I serve the family dinner. We pretend it is just another usual day. If Abhay notices that something is amiss, he is too diplomatic a child to say anything. He pretends there is nothing wrong at all.
I dread facing Sandeep in the bedroom. I cannot even stand the thought of sharing a bed with him. Sandeep watches his usual round of television and when he finally enters the bedroom, I feel cornered and trapped, like a fly stuck behind a glass-window.
‘So, how long has this been going on behind my back?’ he asks. I can feel the anger in those calmly uttered words. A cold rage.
Sandeep accuses me as though by learning salsa I have committed a huge crime. I have had extramarital sex and I am in love with another guy. Yet, of that he has no clue and is behaving like he has ‘caught me out’. The irony of it strikes me hard.
I say nothing.
‘You will answer me when I talk to you, you stupid bitch!’ he says as he walks towards me and jabs his fingers into my upper arm. His words, more than the physical abuse, make me wince.
I am really frightened now. I know he is furious. Of late, even the slightest of things seem to irk him. I am so scared that he might hit me. After the way he has behaved today, I know he is capable of anything. I realise that the best way to ease the situation is to just give in to him.
‘I am sorry, Sandeep,’ I hear myself say in a voice I do not recognise. Tears sting my eyes as I say it, and I cower in fright.
‘How dare you? And how come all the neighbours know about it and I don’t?’ he says.
That is when it dawns on me that the chakkar woman must have fed him the information. Sandeep must have come home early for some reason and she must have somehow seen him and intervened. From his words, it is evident that it had to be one of the mothers at the bus stop. He couldn’t have got the information from anywhere else.
‘I just meant to go for a demo class. It’s always been my wish to learn salsa,’ I say.
‘And this wish emerged all of a sudden, is it? In all these years we have been married, you never had this wish. And who was that bastard you were shaking your tits at?’ he spews out.
‘Please don’t talk like that,’ I plead. I truly cannot bear his language.
‘You really have loose morals. Look at you. You forget you are a wife and a mother.’
No, I am fully aware of it. I have never neglected my duties as a wife or as a mother. I have done everything for you these last fifteen years. I have been your subservient, faithful wife who has kept house and raised a child. You have never once appreciated or even noticed me. Have you once spoken a kind word to me? Have you ever told me I look beautiful? Have you even thought of what I might like and enjoy? You ha
ve always made decisions for me and you have presumed I am happy. It is you who forgot that a mother and a wife is also a woman and a human being, just like everyone else, and deserves to be treated right.
‘Sorry, Sandeep. I will not attend any more classes,’ I whisper, detesting myself for saying the words.
He switches off the light and tears off my clothes.
This time the love-making is animalistic, rough, and savage. It is as though he wants to punish me and claim his ownership of me. He does not even notice that I am crying and sobbing as he thrusts and thrusts.
Or perhaps he does and it gives him a kick. I do not know the man I married anymore.
I continue sobbing long after he had dozed off. I want to call up Ankit and tell him the reality of my marriage. I want to call up Tanu and tell her what has happened. I want to reply to Gaurav’s text. I know I cannot be a silent martyr in my marriage anymore. I have had enough of this. I know I must do something, but I really have no clue where to start, what to do or how I am going to do it. All I know is, I want to be free of this man, the father of my child. I am done with enduring all of this. I am done with trying to please my parents, my husband and society at large.
It is about time I started living my life, doing what I want to do.
The next morning Sandeep pretends as though everything is fine. He packs his clothes meticulously for his trip to Korea.
I go about all my chores, cooking breakfast, lunch, sending Abhay to school, and keep mum most of the time. I speak only when he speaks to me. He is mostly busy packing his stuff, ticking off the things on his list and answering phone calls and mails on his smart phone. I hear him talking to his mother, telling her that he will be in touch from Korea.
I hear him talking to his colleagues, giving them instructions and discussing something related to his project with them.
Finally his cab arrives.
‘Don’t do anything stupid. Bye,’ are his parting words as he finally leaves for the airport.