After gorging on our customary Sunday breakfast- scrambled
eggs and sausages, he went to take a nap, and I decided to do my post-church, Sunday
cleaning. There was something mundane but oddly comforting about having the same
breakfast every Sunday. Somehow, we never tired of it; instead we had accepted
it as a weekly ritual. I opened the drawer of my storage cabinet, and emptied
it to arrange everything in an orderly manner. Half of them were items I had
resolved I’ll put to good use after watching DIY videos, and the other half had
some sentimental value attached to it, so I refused to throw them away. My eyes
fell on a white-coloured envelope which had turned off-white over time. The
golden letters on the envelope said, ‘Kathelyn Weds Dhruv’. I brushed my finger
against the letters as if I was trying to caress the memory of that day.
Ours had been a very quirky wedding. Dhruv and I had
insisted on it being a small affair, so only family and close friends
were invited. In the wedding reception, I wore my white wedding gown, and he
was dressed in a gold and red sherwani.
We looked like we belonged to two different weddings, but had decided to marry
each other at the last moment. Our entire wedding had been pertaining to
catholic customs and rituals, and when he told me he wanted to dress up in a sherwani, I couldn’t say no. After all,
it would be wrong to completely rob him of his Punjabi roots. So I had politely
complied. It was only later during our first dance that he told me, that he had
done it only because he thought it would become a funny wedding-memory. By then
I was too happily-married, so I simply laughed it off and continued dancing. We
had a picture framed in our bedroom of him wearing my wedding veil, and me
wearing his pagdi. He was right, it
did become a funny wedding-memory! I heard the door creak behind me which meant
he had woken up.
“No sleep?”
“Nah...what you doing?”
“Just wondering how things got so messy.”
“Hey, that’s our wedding card!” he gleamed.
He opened it like a child who is too excited to open
his birthday gift. When he read the card, his eyes seemed like they were going
on a nostalgic trip. He had a placid smile on his face, which quickly
disappeared when he realised he had forgotten to tell me something.
“Hey, we’ll have to cancel the dinner plan tonight.
I have got to make a presentation for tomorrow.”
“But they have that live jazz performance tonight!
We had planned ages ago, Pork ribs and Jazz, remember?”
“I know, I’m sorry. But this is really important.”
I knew no amount of pleading was going to convince
him. Besides, I didn’t even want to plead. So I just left the topic. He didn’t
notice the given-up look in my eyes when I left the room. I thrust the wedding card inside the envelope
and shoved it inside the drawer again. I took the house keys and decided to go
for a walk. Whenever things got too cloudy, I either went for a walk, or took a
shower. It always helped me place things in perspective.
With every step, I analysed my marriage. How it had
turned from a fun adventure, to a routine responsibility, how it had withered away
like a rose that had not been watered enough. I had promised we would never
become like one of those old and boring couples. While I was busy keeping that
promise, I had failed to realise that you could be unhappy even if you were not
old and boring. We were only in our early-thirties, and we even spent a fair share of
weekends doing things we liked doing. Only two weeks ago, we had gone to a
concert, and seen our favourite band live. However, the joy of doing those
things together had left us. I had always been a person who declared that no
matter how hard it is, you should always choose the path that leads you to
happiness. And today, I wasn’t sure if happiness was on the same path that he
was. My thought process was broken by the shrill ringing of my phone. It was
him. I lied that I had gone out to buy milk. I didn’t want to go back home and
argue about all of this. I didn’t want to hear his justifications anymore. I
had already made my decision.
I bought an unnecessary carton of milk and went back
home. He was sitting in the bedroom with the laptop, and did what he did best. He
failed to acknowledge that something needed fixing here, and I didn’t want to
pinpoint it to him this time. I would talk to him when he was done with the
presentation, and I would tell him about my decision. When he walked inside the
room, I was habitually changing channels on the TV.
“I’m sorry, I
know you’re pissed. But the deadline is tomorrow” he apologised.
“Why do you always have reasons?”
“It is really not my fault. I declined the promotion
yesterday, so I had to apply for another post. And they only gave me a day to
work on my presentation. I really have to get this post.” He rambled.
He always rambled when he wanted to make a point.
“Why did you decline the promotion? And why didn’t
you discuss it with me?” I asked.
“They wanted me to move to another city, and I knew
you can’t leave your job here. So this was the only way for us to stay
together. I didn’t want to stay away from you.”
He saw the taken-aback look in my eyes and
misinterpreted it.
“I know I should have talked to you about it before
making the decision. But I thought you would want the same. I know the
promotion means a lot of money, but I wouldn’t be happy staying away from you.
So I made my decision without another thought. If you want, I can talk to them
tomorrow” he rambled again.
I walked towards him and gave him a bear hug. That almost
always shut him up. He put his arms around me in resigned relief, and I was
glad to know that all was not lost yet. However, a few moments like these were
not enough to make me stray away from my decision. I convinced myself that I
wouldn’t change my mind. Happiness still always came first.
I made two
cups of tea and told him we needed to talk. I thought a hot beverage would
pacify him as I talked to him about it. I told him how we were running away
from facing the truth of our relationship, how things were not the same
anymore. How each day ended with me wishing for something more, something that
we had, but had lost in the past couple years. He understood what I was talking
about, he had felt the same. I told him of my decision, and I hoped he would
agree with me.
“Dhruv, we have to talk to a marriage counsellor.” I
said.
“That is the decision you were talking about?” he
asked a little puzzled (and mildly relieved.)
“Yes. We need help. I know we love each other, but
somehow that’s not enough. There’s something we are doing wrong, and I’m tired
of finding it out for myself. I can’t go on like this; I thought it is just a
phase but I was wrong. We need to seek help, I want us to be us again!”
I guess he was not the only one who rambled.
He put his hands on my shoulders in an effort to
calm me down.
“Kathy, calm down. I know how you feel, and if you
think talking to a marriage counsellor would help us, we will do that. Whatever
it takes, okay? We are in this together.”
I smiled. ‘Whatever it takes’.
Sometimes it
took more than love. It took the effort to literally walk an extra mile and
figure out what we needed, it took the willingness to let go of a promotion you
always wanted, it took the sense of acceptance that you need help, and that it
is okay to ask for it. Those dregs on the slate weren’t proof of how messy
things had become. It just showed how years of togetherness had had its
effects, but you chose to stick with each other and fight them. I was trying to
wipe the slate clean all this time, when all I had to do was write a new story on it. Things weren’t always perfect, but you could learn to love those
imperfections, and even tackle some of them. Like that Sunday breakfast, Dhruv
and I may have become monotonous, but I would still always go to him for
comfort.
And so we made that appointment to talk to a
counsellor. Happiness was still on the same path that he was. We were just
having difficulty finding it. However, one thing was certain, we would only
find it together. A quick peck on the cheek later, he went to complete his
presentation and I put on the gramophone to continue with my cleaning.
♫♪ ‘Love is all
you need...’ the Beatles .proclaimed ♫♪
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