Rainy Day

He yawned and looked out of the window, it was a dull gloomy morning. It was raining continuously for the past few days, so he had little time to go out and get some fresh air. He hated the touch of rain to his skin. But he longed for the wind to rustle his grey air. He longed for it to throw a stray leaf at him that made him blink. So he stretched, went out and sat by Sheila on the veranda. Away from the reach of the spatter. She looked at him with love in her ginger eyes. The look that still gave him shivers from head to toe. They had been together for the past eight years. Since she separated from her husband, to be precise. They had a loving coexistence. He couldn’t believe someone could love him as much as she did. It felt like she was a different person when she was with him.

He knew because he had followed her unnoticed to her shop a few times. He had seen her sit there alone, her head resting on her palm. Waiting for the next customer to walk in. He had seen her with her customers, trying to look cheery and make small talk, with an ounce of sadness still hanging in her eyes and making her look older than she really was. He had seen her checking the time over and over again for hours till it was finally time to close shop. But when she got back home, it seemed that all the love in her consumed her and became the person she was. She would smile, she would talk, she would be a different person altogether. She was wonderful.

He inched closer to her and nestled next to her chair. She rested her palm on his back. They both sat together and looked at the rain in silence. There used to be a time when she would talk her heart out to him, and he would just listen. He prided himself at being a good listener. And when she talked, he could feel the comfort it gave her to let out like that. She didn’t talk much nowadays. Just the occasional you-know-what-happened-todays. But he knew that didn’t matter. It was just age.

She had been married 36 years when her husband met a younger woman and decided to give his hormones a second chance. Their only child had long grown up and settled down in a far off land. He never visited her. Her man left her with her little boutique, money enough to buy a new house, and plenty of humiliation. That was all she had now, apart from her grey haired fellow.

She met him outside the grocery store one morning, a month after her divorce. He used to idle there in the morning when people came to get their daily supplies of milk. It was she who first came and talked to him that day. Within an hour they became friends. And then she started seeing him there every morning, without fail. A few weeks later he started visiting her at her place, and then eventually moved in with her. Time flew by, and they became the most important part of each other’s lives. He liked both owning her this way and being owned by her. They were inseparable. She might have grown old, but to him, she was just as beautiful now as she was when he first laid eyes on her.

It was almost lunch time. She was already inside, setting the table, while he took a few more minutes to laze by himself. He inhaled the air, spiced with the smell of her delicious chicken curry and felt pleased. She was an incredible cook. He would have lunch and then catch a few winks. There wasn’t much for him to do. After all, there’s hardly much to do for an old cat when it’s raining outside.

Inspired by Geetanjali Rao's Printed Rainbow

Questions (A short story)

“Have you checked the batteries on that thing?” she said pointing at the torch in my hand. “I think it’s run long enough on those, you should change them. Which you most probably won’t so let’s say I should change them first thing tomorrow morning after I’m done dealing with that nincompoop doodhwaala, he thinks I wouldn’t make out how much water he’s mixing in the milk nowadays, as if it wasn’t enough already! I should ask him to start delivering water, maybe then…”
My dear wife had what they call the gift of the gab. She could ramble on about a hundred different things without drawing a single breath. She also has this habit of treating me like a five year old. I don’t know when she’ll realize I’m a grown man, and a perfectly capable one at that.
“When you stop behaving like one” she said with that know all look in her eyes. My scalp suddenly grew very itchy.
“I said I’ll stop treating you like a kid when you stop behaving like one. But my experience of the past 28 years tells me that’s not happening very soon”. Did she say 28? I thought it was over 30. Like it maters anyway. I don’t understand what women have with detail, 28 is as good as 30, just like tomato red and cherry red are both red, why not round it off or chrissake? “… till the chowkidar has to escort you back home?”
“What?” I said bewildered.
“When will you ever start listening to me when I’m saying something? I said leave before it’s too late and that dumb flashlight of yours runs out of batteries and..”
“Yeah yeah I got it from there. I’ll leave when I’m ready” So, Flashlight eh? Just because you have a son in law from the US of A to teach you fancy new words.
“What are you smirking about now?” she said gently jabbing her comb in my cheek.
“The prospect of a stroll by myself” I said and pulled the bedroom door shut behind me.

We had been going on these night walks together since our daughter moved away for college. And it had always been together, because she wanted it that way. She would still go if I wasn’t interested, but I never went alone. That just never happened. Maybe she never let it happen; maybe I didn’t recognize the opportunity. But this was my chance. In fact, she was the one to suggest I continue going on these walks by myself. And I gladly took her at her word.
The day the news came, I was just out of a meeting with my boss which I wouldn’t like to recount, not even for money, when the doctor, an old family friend of ours called me. My wife had slipped down the stairs and fractured her leg. “Oh my God! How is she? What happened? Why are you calling? Why didn’t she call?” I gasped, sweat streaming down my face.
“She’s okay Ashish, she was in pain so I put her to sleep. She’ll be alright, it’s only a hairline fracture don’t worry”
“Okay” I said, though I knew I wouldn’t be satisfied that everything was okay till I got a look at it myself.
Two weeks from that day I’m glad I got that news. I feel almost guilty at my relief. She must be in pain, and being the one who has nursed me out of various different illnesses over the years, she doesn’t deserve to be treated like this. But I can’t lie to myself, I’m all too happy about going on these walks by myself. After all, a man needs his space.

The road was perfectly well lit, and I was too tired to venture into the one of the lanes that cut away from it. Besides those lanes didn’t have sidewalks and I didn’t want to get my shoes dirty in the mud. “Ah! What a perfect morning! Mud stains on my new carpet! When will this man ever learn to wipe his shoes when he walks into the house? ” she’ll say in the morning.
What’s wrong with me? Now I’m thinking of what she’ll say in the morning? As if what she said all Sunday wasn’t enough to drive me out of my senses. ‘Stop thinking of her right now’ I said to myself. Just then, as if she heard my thoughts and pulled the plug on me, the street light went out. It was pitch dark, quite like my state of mind at the moment. I reached out for my torch and switched it on. It reluctantly gave a feeble glow and then went out, like my four year old granddaughter waking up from her sound sleep I so envy. I rattled it, but realized only too late that the batteries were down. “I told you so !” she’ll say with that triumphant look in her eyes when I get back home, her face beaming as if I brought her good news, “didn’t I?”. Yes, you did my love, and I didn’t listen to you. What do I do now? “Is that smoke? Are you stinking of cigarettes? Have you been smoking Ashish?” Smoking? What has that got to do with anything? Why was I thinking of this? Oh! Lighter! I have a lighter! I took it out of my pocket and lit it. The big yellow flame almost warmed my heart up. Now I just needed to find myself a spot to sit and wait till the lights were up again, I couldn’t take the five minute walk back home with a lighter in my hand. So I found a bench and sat down.
The sky was teeming with stars. Little twinkles of light that mocked me then, sitting in the dark. They were exceptionally bright that night, must have been a grid failure. I could hear the leaves rustling in the wind. The occasional flapping of a bat flying by. The wet monsoon wind caressing my face. I hadn’t been so close to nature, so unguarded, in many years. ‘This is life’ I sighed to myself. The wind was strong and noisy as it cut through the trees. It sounded like it was calling my name. Aaaashiiiiiishhhhhhh Aaaaaashhhhhhiiiishhhhhh
“Ashish! Have you gone completely deaf? I was dying with worry looking around for you and you’re sleeping on a bench! Don’t you have a shred of responsibility in you? Look at me when I’m talking to you! Why are you staring at my shoes? ASHISH! Are you drunk? What’s the matter with you? Say Something! ”.
“Your leg"
“My leg what? Haven’t you seen it before?”
“Where’s your plaster?”
There was shock in her eyes, quickly replaced by something else. I think it was the first time I saw that look on her face. I couldn’t quite make out what it was. Disappointment? Guilt? Wait a minute, I think there was some self righteousness there. “What is it? What happened?” I egged her on. She held my gaze with her hazel eyes for a long time, as if trying to say everything without having to utter a single word. After what seemed like an eternity I heard her say “I thought, a man needs his space. Doesn’t he?”
One little thing I forgot to tell you about her. She also likes to end most sentences with a question and leave you wondering.

THE SKY IS BLUE THE GRASS IS GREEN

Today is perfect. Everything is just as it should be. The sky is blue.The grass is green. But an old woman's heart is unsettled. Her life's been brewed and her intuitions perfected by the years she's seen pass her. She feels a sense of foreboding, awaits something terrible. Her heart awaits His wrath. And a wrath, she receives. The aluminum plates of her roof start mumbling among themselves, her pots and pans start bickering, the earth beneath her rumbles in fury and suddenly everywhere, all she can see, the blue sky, the green grass, everything is petrified, every thing is trembling. Her house starts throwing bricks at her, the earth threatens to not bear her weight anymore, her things start exchanging places, nothing obeys her anymore, nothing wants to listen, and then, suddenly she feels her house throw one last brick at her, making her fall into a deep, almost trance-like sleep, where even pain is like a sweet lullaby. And soon, it's all over. It is not the perfect day anymore. He has had his way. Nature smirks at humanity.
The sky is still blue. The grass is still green.