Autumn Blossoms
A Decision At Last
With more than a hint of pride
She dithers, she is a woman after all
Always letting the man decide
Right to the end, the final call
“It has become a part of your cultural DNA, you suffer from an almost pathological wish and need to be dominated,” Shekhar had yelled in disgust at Kajol a few months after they were married. She had broken out into a fit of giggles. Such a complete gender role reversal in their thought processes. Shekhar was an ardent votary of women’s empowerment and to that end, in their early years of marriage, had often encouraged her to try and take a lot of decisions on her own. But she had simply refused to heed his wishes.
It was not that Kajol hadn’t tried. But time and again she had realised that she was simply helpless. The more choices Kajol had, the more bewildered she became. The moment she was faced with a decision to make, it was as though she could see, in her line of vision, a series of lanes and alleys fusing and merging into one another. She felt like a magnet being pulled in so many directions at the same time. And so Kajol always ended up begging Shekhar to decide for her. It made life so much easier and lighter. She always felt like a soaring bird the moment she shifted the awesome responsibility of decision making to him.
Over the years of course there had been some improvement. From not taking any decisions, it had at least graduated to Kajol helping certain decisions being made. Well, at least those that could be classified as the “smaller issues of life”. What outfit to wear for the Sharmas’ anniversary party … what new dishes to order from their favourite restaurants …whether the children ought to join a new extracurricular activity or not … nothing earth shattering that could alter the course of life, but she had at least started to give her views. But even then it was finally always his call. And she was relieved and thanked god for that.
Shekhar often complained to her that though she performed all the duties of being a wife and mother satisfactorily, he worried for her. She was like a third child for him … loving, innocent but someone who simply refused to grow up. Shekhar had imagined a more tough and equal life partner … like what his mother had been to his father. But gradually both had reconciled to her indecisiveness, as loving partners in a marriage usually get used to each other’s idiosyncrasies. For it is also true that despite all notions of an equal partnership, the best marriages and partnerships are those where one partner accepts the superior wisdom of the other on one issue or the other. One thinks and declares, the other does, and peace and happiness reigns in most such homes.
In any case Shekhar always thought right. Kajol could not remember one time in these ten years when they had regretted any decision he had taken. When he was so blessed, how did it matter that it was he who always decided, she had told Shekhar often.
“It’s important to have an opinion, and a viewpoint, even if it sometimes proves to be wrong. How long will you depend on me to take all the decisions about our life?” he had asked just last week, irritated when he had had to decide the brand of the new washing machine that they had to buy.
“Forever,” Kajol had said and given him a hug. Thankfully, as always, he had been assuaged. She couldn’t help it, but this was exactly what Kajol felt. Deep in her heart she knew that his concern was genuine and in the rightness of things.
She thought that was that and that Shekhar wouldn’t be irritated with her on this issue anymore. But that afternoon when he came home early from work, with a plan to take the family for a surprise weekend vacation, he asked her to decide where they should go.
“Anywhere,” she said, smiling at him, hoping it would work as usual. Shekhar seemed irritated as he disentangled himself from her arms. “It’s not funny,” he said. “There’s something seriously wrong with you,
Kajol.”
“Oh Shekhar, not again … I thought we had worked this out between us,”
Kajol said.
“What’s the problem, Kajol? Does it take the strength of Bhim or the wisdom of Arjun to decide whether we should go to Mahabaleshwar for the weekend or just go up to Marve? Forget it. I’ll wait for the kids to come from school and tell me. Today I had actually wanted to surprise them … just bundle them into the car and not tell them where we were going … but never mind now.”
“But why don’t you decide as always, Shekhar. We’ll go anywhere. The idea is to take this weekend break and be together. Why are you making such a fuss this time?”
“Why don’t you understand, Kajol? I feel guilty always deciding for everyone. Anyway, let the kids come home and decide. I want them to start thinking for themselves from the right age. Otherwise, they’ll end up like you. And what’s more, they might never be able to change their minds and habits later as you haven’t been able to,” he said bitterly.
“Mahabaleshwar,” blurted Kajol as Shekhar almost scalded his tongue with the first spoon of soup that he had been stirring absent-mindedly. “I’ve decided that we should go to Mahabaleshwar.”
Shekhar got up from his chair and took Kajol off from her’s. He twirled her around as she giggled. Jai and Tanu walked in just then and stared in disbelief, then jettisoned their satchels and joined in.
*
In no time at all suitcases were packed and they hit the road. It was like a scene in the movies …the romantic drizzle … miles of fields that resembled a sea of green … the car deck blaring “You fill up my senses” …
two beautiful children dozing in the backseat. And then, like the proverbial twist in a screen tale, the car skidding to avoid a speeding truck in front.
The cold scrunch of twisted metal followed. Then silence.
*
Kajol looked with glazed eyes at Shekhar sleeping peacefully, clinging on to life with the help of the life support machine … the oxygen mask over his mouth … tubes all over his arm … the ECG machine connected to his chest. The hospital sheet covered him up to his ribs and the only evidence of the gory accident were the caked lines of mud and dried blood in his hair.
Her mind was numb and yet abuzz. It was she who had decided to come to Mahabaleshwar and the decision had gone so wrong. So very wrong. This was exactly why she always hated taking decisions … but no one had ever understood how justified she was. This time even Shekhar hadn’t.
“Have you taken a decision yet?”
Kajol nearly jumped out of her skin. No it wasn’t Shekhar asking. She turned around. It was Dr Verma.
“I know, ma’am, this is a very tough decision. But this isn’t getting anyone anywhere. We wouldn’t be recommending this if there was even the faintest chance of recovery. Your husband is in a coma, he’s alive only … only due to these…” Dr Verma waved his hand, indicating the medical paraphernalia attached to Shekhar. “You must give us permission to pull off life support soon.”
Another decision? How could Kajol tell them she could not take this decision? No, she certainly could not, she would not.
Kajol broke down as she looked at Shekhar.“Don’t make me go through this, Shekhar. Help me, Shekhar, help me,” she cried. Tears flowed down her cheeks and more kept clouding her eyes, leaving the visage of the slumped Shekhar a mere blur before her eyes. The tears seemed unending … Shekhar had never been able to ignore them – they had always been her ultimate weapon. But now, he lay completely unaffected. But wait … didn’t he?
Yes, miracle of miracles, he seemed to be responding! Kajol wiped her eyes quickly. She couldn’t be wrong. She was sure that she saw Shekhar’s hand move. She rushed to tell the doctor. A miracle … it had to be a miracle.
The doctor conceded that it had been a miracle all right. Shekhar’s hand had jerked at an angle that had pulled off the oxygen mask. Two gasps later he was gone.
He had taken the decision for her yet again.
