Misstep

“He likes avocado! Good for him. My grandson loves it too.” The lady, clad in a beige, cotton saree, with winter white hair and fine wrinkles over her fair skin smiled at Naina and spoke softly.

Naina forced a smile back hinting that she wasn’t interested in the conversation. She scooped the last bit of avocado straight from the ripe fruit and let Shamit, the 2-year-old toddler, eat it. After cleaning him with a wet wipe, she took him off the stroller and let him walk to the toddlers' play area nearby.

Summers in Chicago are short-lived, prized, and beautiful to say the least. Chestnut-brown, barren, frosty trees had exploded into carnival-green for a short time as the birds hummed summer carol between the branches. The flowers that blossomed in spring laughed joyfully as they played tickle with the warm breeze. The sunlit clouds danced across a clear blue sky as Naina kept a steady gaze at Shamit in the sand pit.

“Though the taste doesn’t appeal at first but later when you mix it with other flavours, it grows on you. Guacamole they call it. It was hard for me to learn at first, I still call it ‘avocado ka chokha’,” the lady continued.

Naina felt an odd sense of comfort listening to the word ‘chokha’. Her smile came more naturally now.

“Chokha! That is a UP, Bihar word. Are you…”

“Hmm. Yes! I am from Banaras, Uttar Pradesh.”

“How come all the way here to Chicago? Are you visiting your children? Many parents do that during summers here.”

“No. I am here with my son and my daughter-in-law. He came for a short-term project and we all tagged along. My grandson and I are inseparable. See, he is there, that boy in a red t-shirt and blue jeans in the jump zone. We are staying in a nearby service apartment. A week later we will be going back. Good that I got to visit the US and witness the snow and the sun.

“You like it here?”  Naina’s voice was a little more than a whisper coated with a habitual dolor and hunched shoulders. “My parents have chosen not to visit me because they feel one would be lonely,” Naina added.

“Well! They are right in their own way.”

“But they should visit before they conclude. What about me?”

“Ha! Ha! At our age, we don’t conclude so easily. You see we have seen life, people, and the world.” Aunty chortled tapping on Naina’s shoulders slightly.

“Hmm.”

“Look, isolation is a problem here. Had it not been for my Aarit, my little one, I too would have felt terrible. You hardly see anyone or find someone to talk to. Children are dependent on playdates and adults on gadgets.”

“Yes! It is unlike India where you hear the din sitting in the remote corner of your house. The moment you step out, you find enough people to keep you entertained for hours. I don’t think I like that though,” Naina loosely defended her adopted residence. “Shamit, no honey. No taking sand in the mouth. I will tell Mamma.” Naina's voice meandered from Indian memory to the toddler in the sandpit.

“Oh. He is not your son?”

“NO.”

“Okay. I thought he was your child.”

“No. I don’t have a child…yet. I am babysitting this afternoon for my close friend who had to attend work today and her husband is travelling. Shamit knows me well and so I am her best bet.”

“I see. Hmm. You like children otherwise? I have seen many young women who shirk at the very thought of babies. They bother about the most inane things - diapers, drools, stretch marks, their body size post-delivery.”

“I love children.”

“Is there a bun in the oven? Sorry for asking such a personal question.”

“It’s okay, but… No, not yet.”

“But why? How long have you been married?”

“6 years.”

“Then?”

“What do I say?”

“Medical conditions?”

“No, aunty.”

“Aaahaa…hmm…I can see that. Today motherhood has become one scary thing for women. They think they would choose it once they are 100% sure. What they forget is there is nothing that even comes close to 100% in life.”

“Hmmm.” Naina tried not to feel offended by ‘typical Indian aunty trying to be intrusive’. Though she felt uncomfortable, she kept quiet. The tenderness in Aunty’s voice reminded her of her own mom.

Meanwhile, Aarit whizzed past her grandma, ‘Daadi, see, I can swirl the bike like this. Can you please come here? I want to tell you something.”

“Aaru, careful! I can’t run after you. Please, be careful. Coming!”

Naina's eyes followed Aunty walking towards Aarit. A smart boy maybe 7 or 8 years old, tall, fruity voice, drenched in sweat and… Naina felt a surge of emotion rise in her own heart.

As she watched Shamit on the toddler’s slide, her mind wandered to Aunty’s question? Many people had posed the same question, suggested medication, best gynecologists and even fertility clinics. She had been married to Shubham for 6 years now and Shubham was still waiting for the day when Naina would be ready for a child. How does she explain that her body, mind, and heart was ready but her conscience imprisoned her from having a child? Puja’s word echoed in her ears every time Shubham and Naina got intimate.

“You will never live in peace. If anything happens to my child, I will never forgive you. You not only took away my husband but my very reason for existence. I will kill myself and you will be guilty as charged of the cold-blooded murder of two lives.”

The very thought of Puja and Prashant brought tears in her eyes as she wiped them swiftly from the corners with her chiffon saree. What happened 8 years ago had left her so scarred that Naina found it difficult to live. Prashant's face flashed before her eyes.

*****

An MBA Sales and Marketing graduate from IIM Calcutta, HP India was Naina’s first jump after her two-year stint with Xerox India, Mumbai. HR Head-Chandan Makhija, Regional Sales Head-Prashant Awasthi, and the MD Andrew Gustaf recruited her at a whopping salary of 22lakhs/annum.  Naina joined Prashant’s team and one week later, she had shown her calibre, her knowledge and her tact at what MBA had taught her and what she naturally was good at. She gave her teammates stiff competition and Prashant was awestruck. The free spirited, easy going, willowy and young Naina naively fell to the pizazz Prashant exhibited. A strikingly handsome man with a clean-shaven look and a crew cut, 32-year-old Prashant looked every bit the corporate honcho. 

“Why do you prefer your coffee black.? It’s so bitter. I can vomit. But it is a nice show-off, nevertheless.” Naina chuckled pouring two heaped spoons of sugar in her milky coffee.

Prashant grinned at Naina spreading a smile on her face. “You know Naina, when you smile, your eyes smile too,” added Prashant quickly turning her face soft pink.

As they started spending more time together over monthly sales targets, year-end strategy meets, the line between personal and professional started to blur. His occasional pat on her shoulder, the brush of his hands against hers while handing documents, the graze of her hair as she hovered over his laptop screen and the sound of their breath when they stared at the sales figures closely on the screen could have finally ended under the sheets had it not been for his 8-month pregnant wife. 

Puja’s false contraction made him rush home from the airport where he sat with Naina bound for New Delhi to attend the HP India corporate meet. The next day when he checked in Lemon Tree Hotel, New Delhi, Naina rushed to his room and knocked feverishly. No sooner did Prashant open the door that Naina rushed into his arms. A tear fell on his hairy chest and he held her flummoxed.

‘I love you Prashant,’ was all Naina could croak.

Prashant knew he was off-limits, though it was difficult for him to understand the string that tied him to Naina despite having Puja in life. Did he like her? Did he love her? Prashant had never felt so torn before. Naina knew it too but at that time she needed him more than anything anyone has ever needed in the world.

While it is difficult to put a finger to what exactly makes one step out of the wedding vows, sometimes, it has nothing to do with the two-people involved but the third person who comes in between and manages to work her way to occupy the space reserved for the spouse only. When two ‘I love you’s’ mean differently to the two-people involved, the relationship is bound to wreck soon. Besides, the smartphones haven’t become so smart yet to hide the infidelity that had crept in marriage.  

Puja was a charming woman with affable manners and eyes that could pierce through. An M.Phil in Math, she had secured a career as a High School Maths teacher at Shri Ram International School, Mumbai. Post school hours, her life could be defined in 8 alphabets-PRASHANT. She didn’t care much for glamour and glitz of the corporate world and preferred her teaching career over the mad race of the world outside. Her calculations didn’t go wrong as she connected one dot to another and found out about Naina and Prashant. What happened next was that the nine months pregnant Puja met Naina to ‘discuss about Prashant’. The full term pregnant Puja’s belly seemed to mock, abuse and curse Naina. Her eyes gave a glare that froze Naina’s bones, like being nude in the middle of a blizzard, where every chunk of ice was a frosted dagger cutting into her skin. Somehow, she tried to evade staring at her belly during the conversation at the fateful Starbucks.

“You will never live in peace. If anything happens to my child, I will never forgive you. You not only took away my husband but my very reason for existence. I will kill myself and you will be guilty as charged of the cold-blooded murder of two lives.”

When Prashant met them later, Puja posed one question before him, “Are you with us or with her?”  Prashant’s answer tore Naina's heart into a million pieces

The ugly meeting, the painful words made the air nauseous as Naina promised to resign from HP and leave forever. She packed her bags the next day and landed at Mumbai airport for a flight to Nasik, her hometown.

*****

The memory of what happened eight years back made her hands and feet cold. Her heart raced faster and she was glad to be in Chicago away from Delhi forever. She never wanted to return to India should she meet Prashant Awasthi or even anyone or anything remotely associated with him. After her resignation from HP, she relocated to Aircel Bangalore and then to Chennai, all in the attempt to run farther away from Prashant and his life. No attempts were made ever to call him back or check his whereabouts. Prashant had deleted himself from the social media platforms and Naina had no intentions of digging the grave. Puja’s words haunted her like a demon and it took her mother’s grave illness to make her finally marry Shubham and relocate to Chicago.

Naina liked Shubham. Experience and age had taught her to move on, which she did. Marriage and relocation to another country finally liberated her. Deep down, she still felt guilty, deeply afflicted. Did Puja commit suicide? The guilt, like a bitter pill, stuck in her throat forever. Undeniably, it affected her dreams of having a child. Puja was pregnant at that time and Naina now understood how badly placed her and Prashant’s relationship was nine years ago. The guilt like gasoline in every pore of her being, put her insides on fire whenever her mind wandered to Prashant. Remorse hit her like a sledgehammer and she couldn’t come to terms with conceiving her own child. But she had loved Prashant…once upon a time. But she wished he wasn’t married. At twenty-four, drunk in attention, name, fame, and money, reason and rationality, relationship and commitment are difficult concepts to comprehend, leave alone love and respect. She paid a price and now she was emotionally bankrupt.  The old lady brought back sad memories and Naina felt the old pain surface with double might. She decided to pick up the stroller and leave soon.

Just as she was ready to leave and get Shamit back that Aarit joined Shamit and started playing with him.

“He likes babies and is very friendly to them. You know, some of his playmates were talking about a kid who said he had two dads. Its strange how relationships are so fragile here. Break ups come far too easily to them. Is it?”

“That’s being judgmental, Aunty. I don’t think so. Many a time there are reasons and very strong ones.”

“But why break up? A little bit of adjustment, giving second chances doesn’t hurt.”

“Easier said than done.”

“No. I say this because… It happened with my son and daughter-in-law too. It’s been nine years since that unfortunate event in their life and see where they are. Sometimes adversity tests relationships and helps strengthen them.”

“Really?“

“Well! I can share it with you. While it is personal, it is an example to live by.”

“You see, when people are climbing the corporate ladder way too fast, to make it big in life, one tends to lose the other one on the way and my son gave in to a temptation that arrived in his office one fine day.”

“Oh! So, your son was in an extramarital affair?” Naina's voice quivered at the very mention of the word.

“Ouch! That word sounds so painful but yes! And my daughter-in-law discovered and attempted suicide too.”

“Ohhh!” The words felt like lightning on Naina’s heart.

“The forgiveness did not come so easily. A failed suicide attempt, umpteen emotional meltdowns, panic and anxiety, phases of utter depression, it was one tough phase and that also at a time when she was full term pregnant.”

Naina's eyes widened as she heard every word spoken by Aunty. Her heart formed a lump in her mouth and she found it difficult to breathe.

“Post my husband’s death, I had shifted from Banaras and lived with my son and daughter-in-law. I used to hear it all, my room being next to their bedroom and I felt helpless. It seemed the divorce papers could arrive anyday at the doorsteps of the house. It’s never easy. But sometimes the woman needs to patiently understand and see why and how that ‘extra’ managed to come in between. I guess Puja took time and despite all the mayhem that followed, she could differentiate whether the relationship was worth saving or not. The good thing is that Puja gave him another chance, and the way I see them now, I believe everything happens for a reason. That ‘extra’ came for a reason, to make them realize their priorities and their bond for each other.” Aunty looked at the distant oak trees swaying in the gentle summer breeze and sighed.

 “Pu…ja…aaaa?”

“Yes. My daughter-in-law.”

“Oh!” Naina felt someone just snatched oxygen out of her breath. The co-incidence made her unsteady.

“Where does your son work?” She stammered feeling the sweat rise over her temple.

“He works for Gartner.”

“Gartner.”  Naina uttered the phonics of the 7 alphabets trying to be sure it did not remotely sound like HP. No sooner had she finished repeating the name in her head that Aunty remarked, “He was with HP back in India. Then, they used to live in Mumbai. After Puja delivered, they relocated to Bangalore. He got a job with Gartner.”

Naina felt a noose tighten around her neck. “Oh…Mumbai. What is his name?”

“Prashant Awasthi.”

The veins and the arteries in her body seemed to block all the blood supply as Naina tried hard not to fall unconscious. She could feel her heart in her hand, pounding like a blacksmith’s hammer. Had it not been for Shamit trying hard to climb on his stroller, Naina would have collapsed. She regained some composure and helped him back in his stroller.

 “If I ever meet that ‘extra’ in my life, I guess I would thank her.  Sometimes the extra comes to cement what otherwise truly belongs to the married couple. You see that extra meant nothing to Prashant. And Aarit is their joy now. That is why try having a child…umm…sorry I did not even ask your name.”

“Umm…Trisha.” Naina replied, keeping her voice steady.

“Yes, Trisha, I don’t know what is keeping you away from having a child but all I can is that your commitment with your partner, the bonding, the love, all multiplies when the little one comes in life. Marriage, motherhood, these are not easy but they are the most fulfilling.”

“Thank you, Aunty. I will leave now. I need to drop Shamit back. It’s almost time. Namastey.”

“Khoob Khush Raho Trisha.”

As Naina pushed the stroller on the grey sidewalk along the well-manicured lush green grass, her body felt weak and enervated. Who was telling the story? And whose story was it anyway? The words fluttered and flew in the wind. The word ‘extra’ reverberated in her ears though what she felt did not correspond to the flimsiness and disgrace of the word ‘extra’. With each step, she felt lighter, calmer, and better knowing that she meant nothing to Prashant.  She turned back, once, to catch a glimpse of Aarit who sat in the sandpit building castles.

*****

Later that night, after wrapping the kitchen work, Naina walked up to Shubham who was busy replying to emails.

“Shubham….

“Hmmm…”

“Let’s have our baby.”

In a flash of lightning, Shubham turned towards her.

“Baby? Really? Why? I mean…how come today, suddenly, is everything okay?”

“Everything is okay. I guess, I am ready.”

“Umm… wow, Naina. But something doesn’t seem right. You have no idea how happy this makes me feel. I hope you are not doing this for me?”

Naina pulled the swivel chair towards her, holding his head next to her bosom, she whispered, “Let’s usher in some happiness for us. It’s been long. Don’t ask so many questions Shubham.”

“Ahaa, Shamit effect? I need to thank Shamit and this playdate today then.”

“Yes. I guess I need to thank him too.”