It was pouring outside, and the grey sky seemed to enter the room and spread a dark gloom. Amala sat down in a corner. Exhausted she pulled out a cigarette, lit it and began to cough as she inhaled. An empty stomach, nerves, despondency and wretchedness would not allow her the joy of a smoke. She threw it out of the window and heard it sizzle itself off.
How alone can a young lady be in this country of teeming millions? Amala, estranged from her family, dumped by her live-in and not belonging either to the traditional or the modern felt that all her efforts at liberation and living life to the fullest seemed to have only messed her up. She had not released herself as a person in this lifetime yet; on the contrary she felt enclosed in a bell jar.
‘Bell jar,’ she thought, suddenly alarmed. ‘Now I am going
the wrong way!’ In no way did she want to get suicidal the
way Sylvia Plath, the author of Bell Jar, did. She quickly
checked the way her thoughts were going.
Her cell phone rang. She sprang up with light in her eyes. Aabhas. Amala’s face fell. Not Mukul, but Aabhas. How is it that it was Aabhas who always called when she was pining for Mukul? She picked the call.
‘Hey Aabhas.’
‘Good news, Amala!’ his voice boomed. ‘Our campaign has been approved.’
Amala smiled wanly. ‘That was a quick decision,’ she said.
‘Is something wrong?’ asked Aabhas, quickly sensing from her response that something was not quite right with her.
‘This morning my mother called from Jalandhar. My grandfather passed away and I must go at once,’ said Amala softly.
‘I am so sorry to hear that, Amala. This must have come as a total shock to you. I remember you telling us stories about him at the office. I totally understand your feeling of loss. Are you okay? Is there something else?’ said Aabhas knowing instinctively that this was not the only cause of so much sorrow in her voice.
Amala was silent for a minute. How tuned to her moods was Aabhas. ‘Mukul walked out last night after you left. He is so suspicious about you. He asked me to marry him last year on our anniversary and I asked for time. Last night I said “yes” and he was so happy. Then you came and his distrust just took over. All this is eating me up. I need to speak to him to make him understand. And now Nanaji’s dying like this so suddenly … A death in the family of someone I love. But how can I just leave with this unresolved situation between him and me? It is all happening together. All these difficult and negative things are occurring simultaneously, Aabhas! I need him so much at this point of time, I have called him, left a message with his mom too. I wish he would get back to me quickly,’ cried Amala inconsolably.
Aabhas held his breath. He had inadvertently messed things for Amala. It hurt to hear that. It hurt just as much as hearing Amala’s feeling of desolation and torment. He sensed the misery in her voice. How could anyone do this to a loved one? How could anyone do this to someone as special, innocent and as giving as Amala?
‘I am coming over, Amala. Just stay there, don’t leave yet,’ he said taking charge.
He got the office secretary to call the airline to get the timing of the flight and book her seat. He informed the office that she had to leave town due to a death in the family. He took the morning off from work and drove to her home. Mukul and Amala’s home. Aabhas found her packing and unpacking; distracted, fidgety and unfocussed. Watching her with tears coursing down her pretty face, speaking in fits and starts, staring longingly at the phone, it took all of Aabhas’s maturity to stop himself from taking her in his arms.
‘Amala, sit down. Talk to me,’ he commanded.
She turned and looked at him. She finally saw him.
Excerpt
