End of My Affair

This one’s the 1st of the series of My Wedding Part II

It had now been 3 years of our affair; or relationship that it actually was. I had completely given up on him. I had stopped seeing him, as in taking out time to sit and talk; my sharing the episodes of daily activities had also gone to zilch. I no longer wanted to watch movies with him.. Or him to come and spend time with me.. Not anymore. It wasn’t deliberate; I was plain fed up of this “hanging out” and “going around”, that’s it.

I had wanted to

  • Settle down
  • Get along with a man as a husband.
  • Get recognized by my marital status.
  • Definitely use Husband’s name in all public/government forms.
  • Get dependent.
  • Relieve myself of my “single” status once for all.

And most importantly, build up atleast one basic relationship. ASAP..!!

  • And kill myself over a multiple times till I had walked out of it..

Each day’s delay kept pinching my conscience; I had hurriedly wanted to get married and begin my life afresh.

I did marry, but not so hurriedly; then desperately wanted to get rid of that agreed upon arrangement (that’s what most of the marriages are- besides being relationship of convenience), to live and lead my Life once again. It had become stale and it stank..

Towards the end of 4th year, as he were sat at my place; on ground on a mat as usual, he happened to drop the word. On 12th August, 2002 to be precise, he had casually asked- “What do you think of getting married to me?” Don’t jump yet, we were in that relationship to get married itself and not jump around alone, and move on. More- over, I had always been chasing him real Demon style to settle down- fast. If only I had not and had stuck to my “Single” status. I wasn’t really upset with my S-state; only wanted to get into the M-state and stay in that state forever. If only I had not wanted it.

I wanted to ignore the question that he had just asked- for I had told him that if he had wanted to stay friends with me, then, he ought not to pop up the question ever; since he would never be my man- not again. But he did; and I fell for it. A lesson that I learnt was this- (To) never ever walk the same trail if you left it on purpose the 1st time. If it dint work the 1st time, the chances are it won’t work the 2nd time too.  I stood up and went to the kitchen and sat water for some tea. I wish I had used that time to talk to my brains or my mind or heart and asked them what to do. I didn’t. As if I was hypnotized. I went back to the room with two hot cuppas and looked at him. He was upset, not because I had ignored answering, but because – How dare I walk out on him..!!

He wanted to know my mind and understand what I wanted.. As if he didn’t know. It was his action after my mind that I had been waiting for, (till about a year back then), to take our relationship forward. It was not the other way round, then why he had asked me my mind?? Maybe, God had wanted to opportune me fairly; a chance that I lost- without realizing of it then. I so wish I had sat brooding, and evaluated the pros and cons; or, simply stuck to my statute as I often do. Never ever it has failed me; not so far, not up until my posting this.

I had asked him that what had made him change his mind about “I should trust him and wait” dictates. His parents have been the most orthodox people, subscribing to the thoughts of now what we know of as Dadisa in Balika Vadhu. While we all enjoy watching that obnoxious woman’s wicked character and get entertained, I have stayed with one of those; if that fact amuses you. Oh no, I wasn’t Anandi, I had walked out on her, her son, and the arrangement she made me enter with false hopes.

He had sat patiently waiting for my reply. I replied saying that he should rather let his parents talk to me about this. Well, if they follow the old and traditional pattern of the yester year, they ought to come and offer their son’s marriage proposal. But of course, my reply was least appreciated; what if I had retaliated when his parents came at my place when they eventually did? If only I had done so.

I had met this guy at my very small stint with Portacabin Engineers. It has its small office at Yashwant Singh Place, Chanakya Puri; manufacturing pre- fabricated structures. They had their sales office at Triveni Complex, Sheikh Sarai, where they had placed me. On the day of interview, I had seen him blinkingly and had forgotten all about him. A month later, I happen to speak with him on phone and we hit it real good. We would chat everyday, a few times over; over the phone. A few days later, he called me up in the morning (as we used to once we entered our offices), he sounded tensed. I casually enquired and he said that he would call me back in sometime, and that he had wanted to share something. Till then, or even later- till some more days, I had no feelings for him beyond that of an office colleague. He called me back, he sounded as if he was calling from a Phone Booth; one that he was calling from indeed.

He repeated that he wanted to share something. I had sniffed the hesitation in his voice; I asked him, that if he was an impotent that he was so scared to share about. And even if he were, that won’t bother me. He somewhat eased up; and this is what he said, that he couldn’t view the world with the right side of his face.

I asked him to put off the smoke and go back to the office and call me. He was both assured and amazed at my being so indifferent to his “confession”. Well, his being visually impaired didn’t make any difference to me, but I could feel, how he felt about it- judging by the hesitation in his voice to talk and share about it. We met a few days after for an Induction Program and I didn’t react; why did I have to anyways? He had kept looking to find me watching over; he could not- I did not.

What began from there- till I asked him to make his parents rather do the talking- was a very sweet relationship I had shared with a man. I practically grew up from my teens to being a woman; he from a boy to man. Thoughts, ideas or even experiments; we shared all, as if never bothered that we were not committed (not atleast conventionally). What and how the courting days were would have to wait for yet another post- for now, I am jumping on to- how he went tooth and nail over my apprehension to talk about my settling down with him.

After a few ugly arguments, and a couple of showdowns in public (Thank God nobody had noticed), he and his parents did come to my place to “bless” me. Even though I had wanted this 15th September, 2002, to be special- he had made sure that it went past like any other, or even worse than an ordinary day. His peeve of oiling his hair was highly un- acceptable to me; I had asked him to come looking like a nice guy and not an obedient kid. So what If I did tell him to? He did what he had wanted to.

The old couple came in alongwith their elder kid; his younger brother had not. Auntie was fasting and didn’t touch the simple refreshment that I had laboriously spread. Neither did uncle. With all the empathy and compassion, she said that I should put back whatever had happened till then, and start afresh. So far, so good; I thought. She sounded humble and apologetic. For the 1st 3 years, I had been regularly going to their place. Often, I would drop myself to Saket while coming back from Essar Cellphones- then. I had not been to his place after a displeasing argument with his mother- the last year of our affair; soon after which I had given up on him too. So, now his mother was wanting me to forget everything and was willing to accept me the way I was i.e., working in shifts in a Private Company, English speaking, earning far better than her elder son, dressing up in western attire.. And everything else that would broadly classify me from anywhere close to being a conventional woman. My ability or liking to cook, to be able to embroider or maintain a house- single-handedly, didn’t count. Big Deal- any woman ought to be versed with these; I wasn’t doing any great favors.

If only I had; atleast one on myself, and made them walk out- the way they had kept me waiting for over 3 years. They had mused that probably their son would grow out of it. Were we kids? Or lusting? Or being funny about something?

I had so wanted to settle down fast enough to celebrate each day of my being a woman with my companion; to be able to share very single moment with someone and not alone- not anymore. Who better than a husband? After having lost dad (he is alive and absconding- just that), how I wanted to seek shelter of a male, man enough to “accept” me. If only I had not wanted the “acceptability” of anyone- man, society or otherwise. I had thought that probably after getting married, people would no longer lift their brows on my single status. Single here means a single, independent and woman with no relatives even visiting her ever.

As the days progressed, I observed a strange transition in him. He was now rude, dis- passionate and very- very supportive of his parents’ verbiage. He had always been so; that’s why I had been single till then. Both of us were young, of marriageable age, financially independent, and I of both- wanting to get into the married mode too. Yet, we waited for his parents to give in, much reluctantly. He had already made me dance to his music, I was a perpetual fool to have not noticed that- or ignore that. Ignorance is not bliss- not always. It makes you pay very heavy prices, and at times with whatever little self- respect you may have acquired over a period of long time.

Just when I had thought that may be, now things would fall in their places, he one day enquired that if I had anyone from my family or any other elder to talk about our (already agreed and fixed upon) marriage. This he had asked me after being in a relationship with me for close to 4 years. His explanation was that his parents had asked him that and by asking me the question, he was only trying to complete an act. What pretence!! Hemant, weren’t you aware of how my things were- how many elders did you see or come across for all these 4 years that you have been into this affair? Why did you act like your other family members, by demeaning me asking that “so out of context” question? Maybe you had wanted to warn. You had wanted to warn me of your attitude of following your parents’ dictates to the T. You had wanted me to see a very polite and a mild trailer of my days to come. You had wanted me to stick to my changed mind and not marry you like a hopeless idiot.

If only I had picked up the vibes. I was so engrossed in those current developments that I had failed to take note of the approaching catastrophe. I may not be responsible for what my dad did to my family- but this was certainly my fault, responsibility, and carelessness; all. As if being an illegal and orphan wh*re wasn’t enough for me that I approached towards becoming a complete street- walker. That’s exactly how I am looked down upon by most of the people- but yes, I don’t care about it. But if only I had been so adamant back then, I would have saved myself of that excruciating pain and social embarrassment which is still on.. How I had wanted to write my husband’s name instead of Father’s name on Public forms. What a Public Embarrassment I have ended up becoming after committing to some one so formally.

One day, he had thrown a huge tantrum up on the wedding date finalization. His one of the relatives Delivery was approaching and clashed with the currently agreed upon date. She would have only a few days after her Delivery and hence won’t be able to attend the wedding. At my end, Ruby was expecting Googly. She was entering her ninth month on that current date of my wedding. Shifting the day farther was not an option available to me. Her family was the only one “Family” to be attending My Grand Finale of end of Independence and Self Respect. Since they had forced me to agree upon a conventional marriage, a family’s presence but was required. Not that Ruby won’t have been a part otherwise, but now, it was more of a compulsion. Some misunderstanding took place sometime back and I was not very much open to converse with her (read: another post), yet I went and asked for that “help” of her parents giving me away. I would have still not wanted that in any other way, but here, it was his family who was making me do so, more out of a compulsion- rather than I doing it. Hemant had behaved like a psyche beating himself up and screaming like a lunatic when I refused to speak with Ruby to extend the date farther. All of this happened at my rented place. How caring and concerned he had been. I had only sat quietly watching him in utter silence. Could not react then, and hence, not describing- how I had felt.

I went to Ruby’s place to “break” the news. Of course she was more than happy for me and had already started preparing lists to go shopping. Something didn’t seem right and I discussed that with her. Even that ugly misunderstanding could not affect our friendship. Infact, there were many other situations that had been very tricky for both of us to handle, but she of us was the one, who had held the torch against all odds. Already by then, she had helped me a very big time a few years back (read: another post) soon after mom’s demise. Ciphering the ties between us is something that would have to wait; beyond eternity. To try to take us apart would mean, taking the wick out of a lamp, and expect it to lit; favors, friendship and faith being the fuel. Sampada and I, share all of these, both of us taking turn to become a lamp and a wick, from time to time. Ruby has taken the level and the essence of friendship to much greater level. A level, whereby calling anyone a friend is like placing someone next to her, when actually, no one can really even be on the 1st alter- much less compete with or stand beside her. Many posts would talk about her. Dedicating one or two or a few of them just won’t do it. She has been like my shadow since Jab We Met (LOL); we have shared our childhood, teen- hood and woman- hood altogether. She and her family had been the only people I have known for the last over 18 years now. I had lost my mom when I was seventeen only. So, technically, she has spent more years, more time, and more experiences with me than my own mom could with me.

See, how tough it was to squeeze all about someone, who had gone perpetually missing even when he was physically around (Actually there are two of them Dad and Hemant); without bringing in the mention of many other people, friends and Ruby.

Listening to my apprehension, she tried just another time to make me sit and re- evaluate. Turning back from my commitment was little tough for me and I didn’t.

Yet again or probably on the same day, while walking the mile to his house in Saket (I stayed in Malviya Nagar), after that big discord, he had behaved strangely throwing his hands up in the air, breaking his glasses, in a park on the transit way. I had made up my mind. I was to go to his place the next day, talk to his parents and tell them that the marriage was over. He was under a lot of pressure from his parents and had lost the balance, but then, how long was I supposed to keep up with a lost- balance case? Remember, I had no one to fall back up on or even discuss or talk about him for any 2nd, 3rd or overall opinion.

I reached at his place the next morning. Most of the cards had been distributed by then; his relatives were made aware of the “event”.  I did go to his house but couldn’t hand over the “Blessings- token amount” back. The old couple spent their days then inviting people over to their son’s wedding to an “orphan”. They would come home feeling sick both mentally and physically hearing everyone’s comments about a single, independent woman. Whatever they may have said, and his parents heard of, must have been right. They should have paid heed to it. The marriage didn’t workout after all. Both- his family and I had chosen to ignore our own set of warnings being conveyed to us in different ways.

They had demanded my Father’s Name to print on the Wedding Invitation- I had refused to. I had my own reasons and they were aware of those. His father threatened me of searching my Office Records. Very well then, they would have seen their elder son’s name on all papers as “would be spouse”. That’s exactly how my records were in Essar Cellphones; later Hutch- now Vodaphone. At my Workplace, I had yet not come across any prudish people harping upon how important a Father’s name was.. THAT ACTUALLY IS NOT.

I had turned back for home with a bitter mind. He was relieved, but I was not. I came back with a very heavy heart. I did not want to think about it at all and had decided to give him a fair chance when he had actually run out of all. I just did not think it was necessary to brood over it or to bracketize that behavior of his.

I had silently started preparing for my annihilation- practically in every way possible.

November could not be the month since his cousin’s wedding was fixed for then.. It shifted to January 2003.

But, in order to be able to sit for My Great Grand Grunge Marriage, I was made to marry someone else.

Oh yes..!! I married twice, with different individuals; 1st with My Ganshu Darling and then..

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About Olivia

Corporate worker, textile designer, writer.
This entry was posted in My Biopic Log, My mind and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

19 Responses to End of My Affair

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  18. Ankur Goyal says:

    Hi
    I have one question in my mind that since you are against that your fathers name not to printed on your marriage cards as how much you suffered from him so at least when your happiness time is coming you surely dont want any shadow of ur father’s name by all means.So just inquisitive that were you able to convince boys parents not to write the name on the card.?
    Did u stand on your principles or you just let it go for the sake of your love ?

    • Olivia says:

      Hi Ankur,

      Will include the scanned image of the Wedding Card in the next post. I had almost overlooked and had forgotten to put that here.
      Keep your comments running, they work as inputs for me..

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