H is out for his weekly drinking spree. Come Friday afternoon and his whole conduct changes. He is usually more indulgent towards me and the daughter, he is considerate. He listens. He actually keeps aside his gadgets and looks me in the eye and listens. He makes an effort to understand. Then around 5 pm, the moment comes and he throws that one question “So whats the plan for the evening?”. That’s the moment I realize the whole point of his generosity. He just wants to go out and booze. With friends, colleagues, brothers, alone - doesn’t matter. As long as he gets to drink. Even after 20 years of my marriage, I am so taken aback by his love for alcohol. And every time I feel so small and ashamed to expect that there might be something else to his Friday behavior. May be love, may be genuine concern. And every time I am let down, I curse myself to continue to be hopelessly hopeful.

He says he wants his me time – his “boys” and booze are his “me time”.

Everyday when he wakes up he spends a three fourth of an hour sitting on the toilet with his phone. Then next hour watching TV and having his tea - which I make for him. Then another hour for bathing and some more time on the phone before that. Then he eats in front of his laptop watching some news or podcasts. But he says he wants his “me” time with his boys over the weekend.

I often wonder why did I desperately call him back from the Delhi? His staying with us – with me - is more of an annoyance than delight. Once he is here – the bed sheets are never straight and clean. They are always crumpled. The pillows are strewn – haphazard. There is always some gadget or wires on the bed, the blanket is never kept in the drawer. The bathroom is a mess. The brush, razor, shaving cream are always thrown somewhere – never kept. And the toilet seat always wet. The floor is wet. The laundry is thrown on the floor – never put inside the bucket which is just two inches away from the floor. His work desk is a war zone with wires and gadgets tangled together trying to breathe.

Then there are indirect demands cum taunts – “No one loves me in the house to give me a proper tea!”. "Can someone feed this poor, hard working man of the house?".  Basically everything meant to ensure he gets whatever he wants at the place where he is sitting and he doesn’t have to move an inch. Everything to pamper his laziness and perhaps make him lazier.

And the daughter is also made a pawn in it – by bribing her with some treat or new gadget. Or by scaring her of the consequences. And she relents – for her love, or because she is scared or because she is too naive to differentiate between love and control. 

But me ? Why do I let him get away with it ? I wonder whether it is love, care or duty ?

Or may be my need to be called someone who makes others happy ? My own irrational need to be not called “irresponsible” ! Though by giving unconditional access to my pampering and care I am allowing him to become irresponsible ?

Or because I am tired of conflict? And absolutely convinced of the unchangeable state of things ? Because I have completely exhausted my energies in explaining and expressing my needs to get utterly nothing in response. Yes may be that.

Some day he makes an attempt to understand and asks why am I so upset?I wonder what reason I should give ?

Why am I upset with our lives in general or why I am upset today ?

I just shrug and tell him I am tried and not feeling well.

He pauses and then after a minute of great realization tells me in all his seriousness that I am consuming too much dark content – too many spiritual podcasts. Its causing me unnecessary mood swings.

I look at his face. He totally believes what he has just said and I am on the brink of a huge laughter. Such irony. Somehow I control my urge and say “maybe” and turn away and go to sleep. He stays there for a minute and then gets his head into his cell phone. .

This is how our conversations happen these days. Me bursting with thoughts and emotions and running towards him like Shoaib Akhtar and he plain, stoic - dodges the ball like Tendulkar.

He is a good man. Yes. Honest. True. There is some willingness to understand and some shades of curiosity. But I don’t see the knowledge or the efforts going in with it. Or was it my responsibility to equip him with the right information to sustain our togetherness ?

But isnt it supposed to be effortless ? Isnt a partner expected to understand something before its said ? Like I instinctively understand what he will need next – for the day, for the week, for life ? And he doesn’t get it – even after telling multiple times.

When we got together, all I wanted in the world was to glide through life with him – light weight, free and easy. But what I have to do is dig my way every day alone ! His ignorance slows me down heavily. His indifference brings in unexpected hurdles. Still I carry on. He gets to glide on my path i laid down and enjoy the view while I am pulling the axe and perspiring on the ground thinking of the strategy required for the next obstacle in the path. And the sad part is, he doesn’t see any of it at all. “You overthink unnecessarily”. “You do this your self”. Thats what he says.

If its too much, why are you doing it ? Quit ! - is his another sermon.

Quit ? How ? Where ? And what for ?

I do not ask for justification to quit. I ask for support and togetherness to fight. I want to fight, stand, glide through the life I want.

And then there are moments when I can actually do it .When I sleep with the daughter in her room. When we draw together. When I go walking in the morning alone. When I am in the office undisturbed by the constant pulls of the daily life. When I sit in the garden under the canopy of leaves. Strangely H doesn’t picture in any of these moments. If I am asked to imagine the truest and most peaceful moments of my life, i cant see H anywhere. Yes there are happy moments, exciting times, fun times. But peace – no. Its always anxiety, conflict, tug of emotions. But not the comforting peace.

I really shuddered when I first realized it one day randomly. I blamed myself for it. Didnt I love him enough? Was I a fraud ? Was I betraying him? I didn’t have any answer. I don’t have any yet. That might be the reason I digest all of his “man-childishness”, accept all of his apathy. I let him be. Because I am letting myself be peaceful without him.

And then there is K. and the pure peace. The peace I love and want. I don’t know how I dared to get that peace in him. That calm, stillness of deep river. I just floated. The temptation of the peace was too attractive and too easy to reject. Yes. Its strange that it was so easy.

I didn’t want to meet him in the first place. I guess he came because he didn’t have any other plans for the evening. But 10 mins with him and I was full to the brim. 10 mins and I knew I wanted him. 10 mins and I was mesmerized by the calm and the warmth. He wasnt a silent listener. No. In fact he spoke more than me. He was so different than me. But we connected – much deeper than I expected. He mentioned later that he was surpised himself with the connection we had so quick.

The second time we met, I had melted into him within minutes.. I was dreading the pain and the friction so much before taking the plunge. Something I had been getting since long. And I had so much accepted it as a part of me. It was something wrong with me. And I was anticipating the pain to come any moment. But it didn’t come. At all. What came was pleasure, happy shivers and heartbeats bursting with excitement. He had me whole but not like the “I want to conquer you” way. But like “I want you to feel what I have” way. How I loved it. And I pulled him deeper. Without any facade or cover. It felt right, it felt smooth and wholesome.

I was in no doubt. I wanted to do it again. And so did he. And yes we did it again and again. Throughout the day. It was such a rainy day.

I don’t know him at all. Its just this part of him that I know. I don’t ask and he doesn’t ask me either. May be I don’t want to know. May be this is how it is supposed to be. I know what we have is just a patch of grass in a dense forest. It will be gone in no time. May be its supposed to be gone.

But something has shaken inside me and I can never go back to what I was. This has given me a lasting treasure which will never be discovered by anyone and guarded forever.

I laugh at the irony of it all. I blame myself for all the small disappointments I give H thinking I am betraying him. But the one true betrayal I have committed, I am nor sorry neither guilty. And he doesn’t know about this. May be thats how I can still carry on with us. Thinking I am having my say in my own way. Where he doesn’t have an entry. Until one day he will come to know – or I will tell him. Perhaps.