• Published : 04 Dec, 2019
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Her dreams were about disinfectants, Quaternary Ammonium Compounds, Chlorine Compounds, Iodine, Silver, etc. Her dreams were about high-level sterilants like Formaldehyde, Glutaraldehyde, Ortho-phthalaldehyde, Hydrogen peroxide, Peracetic acid, etc. Her dreams were about the bottles they came packed in, orange, lemon yellow, and blue and green, some as wipes, others as sprays, some with better grip and some with a curved nozzle for the inaccessible part of commode cleaning. She dreamed of the variety, Kitchen, Bathroom, Glass and Metal Cleaners, Bleaches, Drain Openers, Hard Water Mineral Removers, Metal Cleaners and Polishes, Oven Cleaners, Shower Cleaners, Toilet Bowl Cleaners, Tub, Tile and Sink Cleaners, Floor and Furniture Cleaners, Carpet and Rug Cleaners, Upholstery Cleaners and she dreamed of mixing them all and drinking it or adding them in the food she packed for her husband every morning in the Pyrex tiffin box.

She was dreaming about it the whole night, even right now, when her husband’s words interrupted, “Naina, I have been wondering about the Srinivas K shootout and events unfolding thereafter. I have not been feeling safe lately. A fortnight back my fate had smiled on me and shown me the green signal to make my life in this country. Everything seems like a bolt from the blue. Who feels safe here?” Kabir kept talking, ironing his cotton white t-shirt in a hurry.

“Naina, are you listening?” asked Kabir shaking her under the quilt.

Naina squirmed in the bed and pulled the quilt over her to avoid the sunlight and her husband.

“You stay awake late and now you don’t want to get up. I am leaving for the cricket match. I can’t waste my weekend thinking and brooding. Let’s go out and have lunch. I need a break. Ping me!” Kabir wore his t-shirt, tied the white Adidas shoes, picked up the cricket kit, and closed the door from behind. Naina heard the click of the main door and pulled the quilt off her face. She opened her bleary eyes when the cat, all five pounds of squirming flesh, climbed onto her belly. Squinting into the sunlight streaming in from the open window, she discovered that she was now the weary possessor of a pounding headache.

‘Meow!” the cat purred against her hands which felt like sandpaper, rough with knife marks on the insides of her thumb finger. She never enjoyed the chopping board.  Naina took the stole lying next to her bed and tied it around her head. Still drowsy she made her way to the washroom. A splash of cold water cleared the remnants of sleep. She looked at the disinfectants lined up on the bathroom shelf and turned her gaze back to herself in the mirror. The kajal smudge underneath the almond eyes, disheveled pixie cut hair which was the colour of chestnut, a silver nose ring, and dry wrinkled skin. A slight touch up and a healthy dose of confidence would have made the 37-year-old Naina resemble the 29-year-old exuberant, spirited, enchanting and successful Naina of a few years back. Things underwent a dramatic change post her wedding to Kabir.

Naina made her way towards the kitchen and put some tea on the stove. The Royal Canin packet was almost empty. Naina pulled out another one and poured some for the cat in her food bowl. Oreo darted to the bowl.

Naina picked up her cup of lemongrass and basil tea and moved towards the sunlit patio. The saffron coloured Saturday morning was at its cheerful best in the warm month of May in Sunnyvale. As she looked out, her eyes wandered to the little kids playing, their moms helping them on the swing. Her heart started to burn. Everyone looked happy except for her. Part of her wanted the moms to feel her agony, to go through the cascades of tears her eyes had befriended, part of her wanted the world to suffer, how could they swing in happiness when she had fallen off it?  She looked at the green grass on the other side with contempt, oblivious of her own green patch which she had long forgotten to water. Today she completed seven years, exactly 2,555 days, indescribably vapid, in a place which boasted of a winter which brings sunshine in Florida and fabulous skiing in the Rockies; a colourful and glorious spring; hot summers perfect for beach holidays, and warm days for a grand touring in the fall. She hit the skid at the very outset and never recovered.

Naina accompanied Kabir pursuing the same dream. A St. Stephens graduate, followed by a premier MBA institute and a hefty pay package as the Regional Marketing Head, Teletech International Ltd, Naina was climbing the ladder fast and furious. She was a star performer and an even better deal breaker. She delayed her marriage only to create a solid career. At 31, she finally relented when she met Kabir through a family friend. Within two weeks the engagement happened and two months later marriage. The big question for Naina after that was to quit or not to quit. Kabir, a software engineer with Accenture had his H1B approved and was to fly to the US initially for 3 years. Naina had a flourishing career but this time her heart beat differently. Marriage tends to unsettle priorities and for Naina having Kabir away for three years was unacceptable. She had married late and she wanted to be with him, live the romance, the honeymoon and play the ‘wife’. Her H4 visa got approved and Naina resigned the day her passport came from the US consulate. The headquarters at Teletech International was in Chicago and they had promised to look at some opportunity for Naina there. Little did she know about the curse of H4 visa.

They landed up in Chicago only to find themselves surrounded by frigid temperatures dipping to -20C, a long winter spanning 9 months, mountains of snow, raging snowstorms and bottles of de-icer spray. The United States was Kabir’s dream and he started chasing that dream at the expense of Naina. As Kabir submerged himself in work, Naina sank deep in the snow, the chill and the loneliness. The suburb they stayed in became a graveyard during winter and Naina cremated her career, identity, independence, confidence, and herself when Teletech HR got back to her that H4 visa is a big roadblock and sponsoring her H1B is an avertible cost. Several other attempts and the rude reality kept hitting back at Naina. The curse of H4 visa had enveloped her life forever.

Where was Kabir? What about the honeymoon? What about visiting Times Square, Niagara Falls, and Las Vegas? The rose petal dreams rolled down her eyes as Kabir moved up the corporate ladder and after a few years, applied for his Green Card. Weekly potlucks by Indian families in Buffalo Grove (Chicago) worsened her situation. Every potluck made her realise how hollow her pot was. She stopped socialising and later was diagnosed with depression and put on Lexapro. Kabir suggested her to join some volunteering job until her the GC came by. Little did he know that after a gap of seven years, while it is tough to find a job, it’s tougher to get oneself back after being lost for so long. The therapist suggested having a child. Somehow, Naina didn’t conceive and they got a cat instead to keep her company.

Soon, Kabir was transferred to Sunnyvale, California. He earnestly hoped that the sun-kissed state would benefit Naina and their life would get back to bloom on the west coast beach. Seven years had sapped her of the very basic element for human survival--hope. Each day she would mix the disinfectants and surprise herself by pouring it over earthworms and ants. Lonely afternoons were spent in experimentation of all kinds. From the stainless-steel kitchen sink to the filth, hair, and smears trapped in the washtub drain, Naina would clean everything. It kept her busy and did her home a world of good. She would award the neighbours appreciative glances and words with her immense knowledge on disinfectants and which combination could truly kill 99.9% germ and which could take the life of a human being. Kabir found her fascination for these bottles a perfect case of OCD which he had come to understand from his married friends, ailed a lot of women. She continued to survive and Kabir continued to thrive, that was until his Green Card arrived and Srinivas K was shot down because of hate crime that had risen post elections in 2017.

‘Go back to your country’ was the hot topic of discussion amongst the IT Indians. Naina was loving every bit of this disharmony. She derived sadistic pleasure seeing Kabir scared and worried. The grand US dream had bloodstains on it and Naina was rejoicing.

Last evening Kabir’s anxiety reached a crescendo. They had gone to the dentist who suggested a root canal for her. While walking back to the car, Kabir, as if in a daze , started to cross the road, a car screeched in front of him just in time and Naina pulled him to the other side, mortified at Kabir’s carelessness. “What were you up to?” shrieked Naina.

“Am, am... Oh God! So sorry…I was just so lost. Was thinking about the hate crime episodes…” mumbled Kabir looking profoundly distressed.

Kabir slept after taking a Tylenol and Naina got occupied with her disinfectants. It was the perfect timing to end the USA chapter. It was now or never. What should she do so that Kabir quit his job and repatriated? It was only sometime near the wee hours of the morning that she dozed off.

*****

 

The cellphone rang and woke Naina from her noodle thoughts.

“Hey Naina, you awake? Let’s meet for lunch. I need to talk about something. There has been a video…just sent you the link,” blurted Kabir.

 “You are safe, right?”

“Am okay, had a tiring game. I need to talk. Come over to PF Changs, Technology Drive.”

“Give me an hour, I will be there by 1:00 pm.” She hung up and stood there motionless. Oreo moved around her tail high in the air. Naina looked at her and her eyes glistened.

*****

 

 “You are right Kabir. The video is scary.” Naina chose her words, her voice soft and gentle, like a cupcake with poison sprinkled on them. The afternoon sun hovered over the cumulus clouds making people yearn to soak themselves.

“Hmm…. Srinivas was our colleague. I knew him well.” Kabir’s words soothed Naina. She instigated the conversation further, she needed many more such news to add fuel to the ignited fire. Fear tends to multiply, and she wanted the maximum benefit out of it.

When they reached home, Naina chose to stay back near the children’s playground and urged Kabir to go back.

“I will come in some time. The sun feels nice.”

Her eyes followed Kabir’s steps towards home. No sooner did he reach home that Naina's cell phone rang.

*****

 

“Naina, Naina… Shit! No! Come soon! Ohhhh Noooo! Oreo!…just come!” Kabir’s trembling voice penetrated her eardrums.

Naina ran, clutching her purse in one hand and phone in the other. When she reached the patio, she stood paralysed at what stood in front of her.

She and Kabir gave each other a terrified look. Beads of sweat ran down Kabir’s forehead. Naina quietly closed the walnut coloured wooden gate. Oreo was lying dead on the patio floor with a paper hanging from her collar, it read in red ink, “Go back to your country!”

“Is it some kind of joke? A trick? Let’s call the police, the vet,” quivered Kabir as he raced to hold Oreo in his hands. The feline, whose eyes were sheer energy and who leaped with the pounce of a tiger, lay lifeless. Her soft, glossy fur nourished by rich protein diet now ruffled in the gentle breeze. Her eyes, a soft turquoise blue ray, shut as Kabir tried to reach out to her.

Naina stopped him right there. “No! Let’s not get into 911, police or vet. We will be in unnecessary trouble. Even if it is a trick someone has played on us, it’s a sick trick and a deadly one. We don’t play with life Kabir…anyone’s life. Let’s end this here. We will bury her…and….and … Oh! I can’t believe this. Who could have done? Is this happening for real? This place has become unlivable.” Naina kept stuttering as Kabir stared at the dead cat.

Was he the next target? Kabir wondered. Fear is a powerful emotion and it had swallowed Kabir completely.

Burying him in the outskirts of the city was a clandestine affair and the couple felt no less than criminals charged with culpable homicide. At night, Naina waited for Kabir in the bedroom. The air hung still inside their house. Remorse, guilt, shock, angst, despair, and dread filled the heart and the stomach. No one cared for dinner. Oreo’s food bowl lay clean. She had licked it all. When Kabir did not come for a long time, Naina trailed to the study room.

“What happened Kabir? Let’s sleep. It has been a long day.”

“Let me send this mail to Jimmy. This is important.” Naina saw a hurricane rise in his eyes and she came closer to peek at the laptop screen from behind. The subject line read, Resignation. Naina held Kabir’s shoulders from behind as he clicked ‘sent’.

“Let’s go back. I can find a job there. You would be happy too,” he said, his shoulder dropping towards gravity.

Naina stared at the laptop screen and the email that lay open in front of her. After years, Naina felt her heartbeat. She was going back to where she had started from, determined to find some moisture, nutrition, and warmth to root herself back, adamant that the plant will sprout and bloom happiness, her mind indoctrinated that happiness is out there, residing in some land, lying under the terra firma, waiting to be excavated, unearthed. There might be happy stories of immigrants in America, but Naina’s story wasn’t the one. But was it all happiness?

Her soul ached for Oreo who had become her companion when the demons in her head stabbed her heart. Oreo was not only a distraction but also a listener whose loyalty never betrayed. Oreo was dutiful, Oreo was loyal, Oreo was gentle, Oreo was beautiful, and Oreo never left her side. Most of all Oreo was just like her, a feline-ninja who battled birds and rodents and squirrels, and geese who dared infringe on her property.  Naina liked Oreo’s ferocity, her life had been infringed upon too and it took her seven years, umpteen Lexapro, her career, her motherhood which she didn’t let happen, marital bliss and of course two drops of her homemade poison in Oreo’s food to finally redeem her roots, her happiness once again.

The clock chimed 12:30 am. She made coffee for herself, stood out in the patio overlooking the dark purple night. Her morning had arrived. Oreo's story ended leaving behind a new beginning.

*****

About the Author

Namrata Singh

Member Since: 27 Feb, 2018

With EXISTENTIALISM on one hand and MINIMALISM on the other,  my vagrant mind weaves stories every moment, just every moment. Coupled with this, I have an insanely bad habit of binge reading and collecting books. Kindle is non existent for me un...

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