From the seventh floor of the Jogeshwari high-rise, Shivangi looked wistfully at the scarlet hued sky as sundown was close. The busy metropolis of Mumbai , whose life paced at an unnerving speed, teemed with honking vehicles in the street below. As Shivangi sat by the window, pensively comtemplating her own life, with the vibrant life of the city, a sudden gloom descended upon her.

She sipped her cup of chai, which had turned nearly cold by now, and glanced on a book on the nearby bookshelf. ‘Far From the Madding Crowd’, by Thomas Hardy, it was. The name stirred in her a multiple emotions, though she could not determine the reason for her melancholy…

Her moment of solitude was interrupted by a deep wheezing sound followed by fits of coughing. Leaving her cup on the table, Shivangi rushed to meet the errand. In one of the two bedrooms of her 2BHK flat, her ailing, bedridden mother-in-law coughed incessantly until Shivangi rushed to her aid, wiped her mouth and administered the dose of medicine prescribed by their physician. It took a while for her mom-in-law to feel at ease, and when she did, as always, she reached out her shaking hand to hold Shivangi’s as a gesture of her gratitude. Even in her partially paralysed state, the corners of her eyes blinded with tears. Dutifully, Shivangi took out a handkerchief from under the pillow and wiped her mom-in-law’s face clean.

Just then, the doorbell rang. Shivangi’s face lit up momentarily, as her 7 year old daughter Khyati returned home, swinging and dancing, from her evening play in the society garden. Cuddling her mom, Khyati chatted nineteen to the dozen , all about her school, teachers and playmates, until Shivangi reminded her to freshen up for some refreshments that she had made. Stirring the glass of milk for Khyati, Shivangi’s mobile buzzed several times. Handing over the milk to her daughter, she went to check her phone lying in their bedroom.

It was Amol, her husband , at the other end. Over a quick conversation, Amol enquired about the situation at home and informed Shivangi about a scheduled presentation next morning for which he would have to work late in the evening. He would reach home by 10 pm. Shivangi put down the phone with a sigh…

Amol and Shivangi had been married for the last 10 years. Theirs had been an arranged marriage mediated through common friends. There had been no fancy courtship period, no engagement party. Neither was there any fanfare at the wedding. It had been a simple family affair in an austere ceremony resulting in the nuptials. Over the years Shivangi had learnt to live without too many expectations…not from life, neither from her husband. She was a sorted person and level-headed all the same. In Amol she had found her home…her safe place too, though he was a workaholic, a simple , unassuming and unaffected person.

Their married life of 10 years had been rather uneventful, except the birth of her darling daughter, Khyati, who was the light of her life. With time Shivangi had come to realise that candlelight dinners or birthday parties and excursions, like her friends boasted, were not Amol’s cup of tea. But Shivangi’s solace lay in the fact that Amol was a grounded man whom she could trust wholeheartedly. And thus she was the goody-goody wife, accepting of the void that ached her heart often…in silence.

After finishing the day’s chores, attending to her mom-in-law and winding up with Khyati’s homework, Shivangi finally got some time to unwind, as Amol would be late from work. She started  reminiscing her adolescent years when she had been the apple of her dad’s eye. That was also the time when she had that Midas touch and had been awarded the ‘Best All Rounder’ trophy in school! How she had shoved all her accomplishments under the carpet just to become an ardent homemaker cringed her soul! Though her countenance was peaceful, inside her a fire raged often. She thought that she was fast losing her identity in a bid to conform to the image of the homely, abiding wife and mother.

In these hours of loneliness, Shivangi had started maintaining a diary in which she would pour her heart out like a dear friend. She soon realised that her ability to write and articulate her emotions had not dwindled with time. In fact she took to writing poetry as a means to express her innate desires, and in no time it had become a habit and a stress buster! She had always been an avid reader and almost fantasized about the stories that she read.

Amol, who worked in the finance department of a reputed insurance company, found little time to even socialize with friends. Though he was a family man, much of it owed to the fact that he was also reserved and an introvert. Apart from the time that he was engrossed in office work, presentations  and meetings, he would be lost in the company of  books. Shivangi had got used to the routine, but her womanly heart often craved for some expression of affection from her husband, which remained much of a dream. Amol was a rigid and stoic person, who saw the world with a practical lens. Shivangi had given up the thought of trying to mould him out of his persona, and accepted what was in store for her.

One evening, while browsing through her phone, Shivangi found  a pop-up message on a popular social media  platform, which caught her interest. It was  a poetry writing challenge, upon completion of which, the winners would receive a medal from a reputed publishing house. Shivangi got an adrenaline rush and quickly jotted down the details for registration. Once done, she started on her poetic trail aiming to complete the challenge with flying colours. This challenge became the ‘Ikigai’ of her soul for the following month!

Everyday she received a new prompt that would give wings to her imagination, and with her morning cuppa, her pen started flowing with creativity, as she wrote a new poem. Shivangi felt each of her creation was like her own offspring, that she had toiled hard to give birth, and could not help re-reading them from time to time. It was her own little achievement, but she took  great pride in it.

Shivangi’s daughter Khyati was an ardent admirer of her’s. Her heart was touched with motherly tenderness, whenever she saw little Khyati seated with her mom’s diary in her lap trying to catch a word or two from her write ups. Innocently she would ask, “ Mom how can you write so much in one day, in such a beautiful handwriting? My teacher would surely give me an A+ if I finished my assignments like this!”  Shivangi’s heart swelled with pride at her daughter’s earnest compliment and she hugged her child saying “ Don’t worry baby, one day you will write better than what I do, and win prizes for all your work!” Khyati would lovingly peck her mom, and these priceless moments were the most cherished by Shivangi.

Shivangi was working in the kitchen one evening, when she received a surprise call from her friend Sunita, residing in Delhi. Sunita had been her college bestie, but the last time both had met was at the latter’s wedding reception. Though they were separated by distance , even after all these years, their bond had not weakened a bit! They still remained the best of friends and were constantly in touch online through social sites. Shivangi was just elated to hear the familiar, bubbly tone in Sunita’s voice. They chatted for half an hour like long lost friends! Hearing that the next week Sunita and her family would be in Mumbai, Shivangi’s heart leapt with joy as she invited them over to dinner at her place.

Preparations were on in full swing as Shivangi eagerly looked forward to meet her friend almost after a decade. “How things have changed between then and now” she wondered, while rolling out the chapattis. She thought of their carefree college days in Delhi…those immature, foolish pranks they would play on each other…days when they would bunk classes to watch a movie together…how once their whole class burst into a song during a session in the practical lab! “Ah, those days…never to return” she sighed nostalgically.

Amol had promised to return home by 7 pm that day, as Shivangi had requested him. It was already 8 pm, and her guests would arrive any time now. However Amol was nowhere in sight. Shivangi waited desperately for everyone to turn up. As she was just getting up from the verandah, wondering whether to call Amol, the doorbell rang. Both Shivangi and Khyati ran to open the door, for it was only on rare occasions that they expected guests at home. Khyati was even more excited at the prospect of meeting her new friend…Rahi, Sunita aunty’s 5 year old daughter. Time flew as pleasantaries were exchanged. After eons, Shivangi’s home chirped with gossip and interesting conversations. Soon it was time for dinner, and in her excitement, Shivangi had almost forgotten to enquire about Amol. She excused herself and went to call him in the bedroom. Amol answered in a hurry that he would not be able to keep his commitment for the day as boss had called them all for a review. Apologetically, he hung up, while Shivangi’s heart sank thinking of broken promises…Shamefaced, she broke the news to Sunita and her husband, who consoled her, realising that she was feeling let down by Amol.

That night after the guests departed, Shivangi decided to confront Amol..probably for the first time in her married life. Amol had turned up later than usual. His apologetic tone didn’t work today as Shivangi seemed distressed. Her usual, docile temperament had lost to temper. Behind closed doors, when Khyati was asleep, Shivangi vented out all her pent up feelings to Amol, much to his amazement.  For the first time Amol realised the fury behind Shivangi’s bottled up emotions. And for the very first time Amol made up his mind to do something to appease his wife, his one and only consort in life.

Next day being Saturday, the previous night’s squabble was forgotten, as Shivangi made some delicious parathas for breakfast…Amol’s favoutite. She attended to her mom-in-law’s requirements, worked up a quick lunch for Amol and Khyati and left for a shopping spree with her bestie Sunita, as was planned the previous evening. They were going to the Crawford Market, after which they would eat out and return by evening. Amol had not resisted Shivangi this time, as he knew things would go out of hand if he didn’t consent. While they stopped at a nearby eatery to grab a quick meal, Sunita disclosed details about her husband Aman, and their seemingly happy life. Shivangi was quite taken aback to learn that Aman was a heavy drinker, so much so that in his drunken state he would often beat his wife, whenever she protested to his addiction. Teary eyed, Sunita revealed that Aman being quite fickle minded, he couldn’t stick to one company for long. Thus he had lost many good job offers. To balance their earnings Sunita was compelled to join work, leaving their barely 5 year old daughter at a maid’s mercy. Shivangi was appalled at Sunita’s revelation, and all the way back home, she kept thanking her stars, that she had a lot to be grateful for!

Days rolled by and Shivangi’s routine life continued. She had almost complied with the fact that monotony was her steadfast companion in life. At such a time her phone flashed with good news and her face beamed with joy. She had just got an intimation about winning the month long poetry challenge she had participated in. Shivangi was over the moon, and wanted to break the news to Amol, but instead decided to wait awhile. She went through the details in her mail and got to know the venue of the award ceremony was going to be Delhi, in the upcoming month of August. This time Shivangi had an ardent longing to attend the ceremony in person and she rushed to inform Amol working in the other room.

Amol looked obviously pleased at his wife’s accomplishment and for the first time in years, Shivangi blushed in his presence. As she put forth her desire to go to Delhi for the felicitation, Amol shifted in his seat uncomfortably. After some argument, the couple came to the conclusion that it would be rather inconvenient to arrange the trip on the given dates, for Amol had an offsite to attend which was coinciding at the same time. Again Shivangi found herself at the sacrificial altar for the benefit of her family. Without a word she left the room and buried her tears under the pillow.

A strange kind of depression ensnared Shivangi for days to come. She had decided that all her efforts were futile and her talent wasted. As usual she was involved in the nitty-gritties of  the household, but at the back of her mind her stifling aspirations left her helpless.

It was 19th of August, and the next day would be the day of the felicitation event that Shivangi had so desperately wanted to attend! After ages the family was sitting together, watching the primetime news on television. All of a sudden the headline flashed with fresh news from the capital. “ Anti-reservation protests hit the capital city. Possibility of  riots in Delhi, starting tomorrow. Police lathicharge several college campuses, roads blocked all over the city. Citizens advised to stay indoors”

As though intuitively,  Amol and Shivangi both looked at each other at the same time, when the news flashed. Amol was a man of few words and even fewer expressions, but he had read Shivangi’s face this time. He wished his wife would say something to break the eerie silence engulfing their relationship lately.

“Its true after all. Man proposes, God disposes…I would have got stuck had I gone to Delhi at this time…”

“Everything happens for a reason, good that you realize this.”

“As though you knew what was coming up, beforehand!” thought Shivangi to herself, partly upset at not winning the argument.

Once more Shivangi became aware of providence playing its part in her life. It was as though some upper hand was guiding her journey. What she thought an unfortunate event was perhaps a detour to something better…Shivangi’s hopes soared again!

November had set in and the neighbourhood was busy with preparations for the Diwali festivities. This time Khyati had requested her parents to invite her friends for Diwali, and therefore Shivangi was also tied up with the cleaning and renovation work at home. She looked up recipes that she wanted to try, so she could treat the guests well. Luckily, the day arrived and was well spent in the company of some good neighbours and friends. Amol appreciated Shivangi’s efforts and she felt blessed after a tiring day.

Days flew past, and soon it was the 26th of November—Shivangi and Amol’s 11th anniversary. Shivangi wanted to celebrate it differently this year, and Amol too had planned a surprise for her, to make up for lost chances. They were going to the Taj, Gateway, for dinner, and Shivangi revelled in excitement! She had deputed the maid to stay by her mom-in-law’s bed for the evening. She took out a brand new red bordered saree that she had bought months back, to wear for the occasion.

Well in time, that day Amol returned home by 7 pm as promised. For once Shivangi was really pleased at his punctuality. She was getting Khyati dressed as Amol ventured for a bath. Shivangi then went to get dressed herself, neatly draped her saree, and just as she was going to tuck a rose in her loosely braided hair, she found Amol gazing at her ardently in the mirror. His look was of fascination…and desire, and Shivangi felt her cheeks burning!

All this while Amol’s phone had been ringing incessantly though he hadn’t bothered to take the call yet. Shivangi nudged him, and much to everyone’s chagrin, it was a call from his boss that was urgent.

Shivangi knew they would get late, so she turned on the television. Much to her surprise all serials were off air, and then the horrific news popped as she turned on the news…”Mumbai under siege. Cross border terrorists have captured the Taj…a massacre in sight!”

Amol stood at the entrance to the room with a book in hand. All were speechless for the moment. This time he broke the silence…

“Don’t you think its indeed a blessing in disguise that we didn’t venture out as planned, yet? The surprise is not over yet…”he said, handing over the book to Shivangi.

Shivangi’s eyes welled up to see her anthology of poems published as a book!

She looked lovingly at her husband as he came closer and held her in a warm embrace. Khyati completed the picture by quietly snuggling in between them.

They were safe and made a perfect family!