Amisha

You can’t do anything right! Look at your wardrobe! What a mess! Why can’t you be more organized? Why this constant laziness and lethargy?? I am fed up of seeing the entire house in complete disarray!

I give myself a mental shake, the words of my ex-husband ringing loudly in my mind.

It is ironic that I should think of him on the first day of my new life in a new home.

When I left behind my husband and his home four years ago, I had firmly believed that I would never get married again, and that no man would ever earn my trust. Years of constant criticism and ridicule from my husband had driven away all notions of a romantic happily-forever from my mind.

It seems we humans aren’t programmed to be alone. After mopping around for three years after my divorce, I decided that enough was enough and that I deserved a second chance, a new beginning.

I met Venkat online in a matrimonial website. We started chatting and a beautiful friendship began. I felt comfortable with him. He was easy to talk to. That he too had gone through a divorce helped us to connect better with each other. After a year of several friendly dates and chatting, we finally got married today.

I and Venkat mutually agreed for a court marriage, not wanting to make it a huge affair. My parents, his parents, my brother and his best friend were the only people around us. We signed the papers while the rest of the people clapped. His mother embraced me warmly and I was humbled when I saw tears in her eyes. My own parents and brother were feeling quite emotional. We all said our goodbyes, although my parents and his parents do not stay very far so it wasn’t difficult. Then they left for their homes while we came here. Venkat’s parents wanted to host a reception for their relatives at their home after our marriage but Venkat opposed. He wanted to keep it short and intimate.

Now I am sitting beside my suitcase while Venkat is going through some papers. I am hesitating to keep my clothes inside the wardrobe in front of him, ‘keep’ being a very decent word for what I usually do with clothes.

I just fling them inside my wardrobe. What can I say, I am a slobbery mess. It’s not that I am lazy or lethargic, as my ex-husband would often say. I just do not take anything seriously and like to live casually.

I gaze at Venkat sheepishly, wishing that he would leave the room so that he would not see me abuse the wardrobe. When he feels my gaze, he looks at me, his eyebrows raised in question.

At 6 feet, Venkat is much taller than me. Most people would say he is average-looking but I would say that he has a pleasant face and a good personality. But his eyes are what caught my attention first.

He has the kindest eyes I have ever seen on anyone. Sometimes when I look at his eyes, I feel the need to break down and be comforted by him. Something then reminds me that he doesn’t need to see me in my depressed avatar. My marriage to him won’t last for two days if he sees me sobbing and blubbering.

Yeah, I have my awesome ex-husband to thank for my impressive self-confidence.

“Anything wrong?” Venkat asks.

“Nothing.” Comes my immediate and panicked reply.

He sets the papers aside and sighs. “Amisha, we promised each other that we would be frank and honest. Please let me know if anything is troubling you.”

Of course the guy had to remember every word of our every conversation.

“I am about to keep all my clothes inside the wardrobe. It feels daunting today. But I can’t dally any further. I will be picking my clothes from my suitcase for weeks if I do not tackle this job today.”

You have to give it to me for inventing a sheer lie on the spot.

He smiles. “I will help you.”

And just like that, I know I have only made it worse for me.

Venkat

“Oh, the keys are in my wardrobe.” I say.

When I stand in front of my wardrobe, I glance behind to see whether Amisha is looking. For some reasons, I do not want to open my wardrobe in front of her.

Even his wardrobe is as boring as he is. He organizes his clothes according to the type. Handkerchiefs in one section, shirts in another, pants separately… I mean, what is that!? He is totally OCD, I tell you. Gosh if I knew he would be this boring, I would have never married him.

My hands tremble slightly as I remember my ex-wife’s conversation with her friend, the conversation that made me question everything about our marriage and finally led to her walking out on me.

What if Amisha too feels the same!? What if she also feels that I am boring? And which tool of a person decided that a man should be entertaining? Most importantly, what am I supposed to do to come off as entertaining???

Even as I am lost in these thoughts, I feel Amisha’s presence beside me. She folds her hands and nods at me questioningly. When I do not say anything, she opens the door of my wardrobe and gasps.

“I knew it! You are one of those ruthlessly organized ones who color-code and type-code and what-not-code everything!” She exclaims.

“What-not-code?? Never heard of this word.” I mutter, trying to divert her attention from my brutally organized wardrobe.

“Never mind. You are OCD, aren’t you?”

For some reason, when she says this, I am not offended. Instead, I grin and raise my hands in surrender.

She shakes her head and looks at my wardrobe reverentially. “I can never organize my wardrobe like this in any lifetime.” There’s a wistful note in her voice. It tugs at my heart. But then, everything about Amisha hits my heart directly.

She is the brilliant sunshine in my gray world. She is the laughter to the stoicism in my life, the humor that brightens up my dull days.

“I can arrange it for you if you are okay with it.” I tell her.

She widens her eyes. “You will!?”

I shrug.

“You, Mr.Venkat, are the best!” She says and rushes to her suitcase to fling out all her clothes on the bed.

I do not even cringe, for hearing her say that I am the best feels like a balm on my wounded soul.

With a vigor that I have not felt since many years, I fold the sleeves of my shirt and get ready to assist my wife in arranging her clothes in her wardrobe.

Amisha

Needless to say, Venkat has beautifully organized my wardrobe. There was just the tiny and oh-so-awkward moment when my inner-wear had to be kept in the wardrobe, and I discreetly tried to hide them. Venkat saw me hiding them and burst out laughing.

“Amisha, we are in our forties. Surely this cannot be awkward!” When I still hesitated, he stretched his hand and gently said, “Give them to me. It’s okay. Really.”

That’s the thing about Venkat – everything is okay with him.  

I silently handed my inner-wear to him and he kept them inside the wardrobe. Then he looked at me and smirked. I simply shook my head which made him laugh.

I like it when I can make him laugh. It makes me happy.

“What would you like for lunch?” He asks.

I look at my watch and I am amazed that already two hours have passed by in my new home.

I hesitate to answer him. I haven’t really planned anything special to cook today. Plus, it is a new kitchen and I will take some time to get used to it. I am a fairly good cook but I make a royal mess in the kitchen while cooking.

“What would you like?” I ask him in turn. He must have heard the hesitation in my voice, for he grins and says, “What would you like? This can go on for a while, you know.”

“What do you generally have for lunch?” I ask him.

Venkat

The dreaded list again! Gosh, can you be spontaneous in anything? Deciding the meals for the week – who does that?

What do I generally have for lunch…. It is usually decided on every weekend and written neatly in a sticky note which is then stuck to the fridge.

Another aspect of being OCD, I guess. But it helps me when I plan my meals for the week. I feel settled and comfortable when I know what is to be done and when.

I do not know how Amisha will react to my ritual. Will it disgust her that I can’t be spontaneous?

“Wait a minute…” She exclaims all of a sudden and rushes towards the fridge. “Where’s the sticky note containing the meals for the week!? I just remembered you saying that you do that – plan the meals for the whole week and stick it onto your fridge!”

I inhale deeply, wondering what to tell her. “Yes, I used to do that. I just thought maybe you would like to do this differently. So tell me, what would you like to have for lunch? I will cook.”

“You don’t have to change your lifestyle for anyone, especially for me.” She tells me firmly but gently. “Come on, prepare a list. I won’t see what you have decided for today. That way it will be a surprise. Tomorrow I will cook.”

I grin at her, feeling at ease suddenly. “I think we have lost valuable time in deciding who will cook what and when. How about we just order something today and if we feel like, one of us can cook at night?”

“Okay, but you will prepare the list today. I want to see that sticky note on the fridge before dinner.” She says, wagging her finger, and damn if it doesn’t bring her one step closer to my heart.

Amisha

We spend another twenty minutes deciding on what to order. We finally agree on Roti and a curry. As we wait for the order, Venkat moves around the kitchen, readying the new crockery set that he wants to use for our first lunch together officially as a married couple.

I stare out of the window of the kitchen thinking about how it came down to this.

I have always been chaotic, messy and rushed. I fumble and stumble. I trip a lot. I drop things often. I am never organized about my day or about anything. And I thought it was okay to be so. Until I got married and right from the second day, the ridicule and criticism started. I tried. God knows how much I tried. But I could never make my ex-husband happy.

Never in my wildest nightmares did I imagine that I would go through a divorce. Neither had I ever hoped to have a second chance at marriage.

Yet here I am, at my new home, waiting for my order, while my husband sets up the dining table.

Sometimes I feel a pang that I will never get to experience romance again. I and Venkat do not have that kind of relationship. There is a comfortable companionship between us. I feel peaceful with Venkat. We are good friends first and foremost.  

But I have seen the ugly side of relationships and I am now at a stage where I want only peace and comfort. Romance be damned.

Venkat

The bell rings and brings Amisha out of her reverie. I have been watching her lost in her thoughts while gazing outside the window. She looks both beautiful and sad. I would do anything to remove that sadness from her life.

I collect the parcel and bring it to the table. She fidgets around me uncomfortably while watching me transfer the curry into a bowl.

Wanting to make her feel at ease, I hold a chair and gesture her to sit while I slightly move it backwards. “My lady.”

She grins and sits on the chair.

“Allow me, please.” I say and serve the curry and roti on her plate.

“I could get used to this.” She says with a contented sigh.

“Then get used to this.” I say and sit opposite to her.

“I will cook dinner today.” She says. “I feel restless if there isn’t anything to do. Besides, I like to cook.” She looks at me and grins suddenly. “But you will have to clean it up. I make a huge mess while cooking.”

I let out a long suffering sigh which makes her laugh. “I will do my best.”

“I do not like to do anything that is related to organizing or cleaning. Tell me to do any other work except for these two.” She says, drawing my attention to the fact yet again that we both are polar opposites. Organizing and cleaning are therapeutic for me. I will never understand how we ended up together but I am glad we did.

Amisha

I wash the dishes even though Venkat told me not to. He lingers in the kitchen walking to and fro nervously. I feel like he is building up courage to say something. I can’t help smile as I see him running his hand over the back of his head while walking.

“Is there anything you want to tell me?” I ask him finally when I am done with the dishes.

“Yes, yes. Come sit here.” He gestures to the chair besides the dining table. When we are both seated, he offers me an envelope. I open it, check the contents and gasp.

It is a ticket and an itinerary of Sri Lanka. A whole week’s itinerary.

“Every marriage deserves a honeymoon, no?” He says with an uncertain smile. “I just thought… you were saying that day that you would like to visit Sri Lanka… I thought of surprising you.” He inhales deeply. “Hope this is okay. Please don’t feel obligated to say yes if this is not what you want.”

This crazy, lovable guy!!!

I just shake my head and start laughing. “Mr.Venkat, you have a way of throwing curveballs at me!”

He visibly relaxes. “Then it is okay, right?”

“Okay? This is not just okay, this is fabulous! Sri Lanka!!! I can’t believe this! I need to do some shopping. I want to buy something new for the trip.”

“We will go to the mall tomorrow, do your shopping, have lunch and probably catch up a movie?” He says sounding excited.

“Sounds great! Did you have any particular movie in mind?” Not sci-fi, please not sci-fi…

“How about ‘Lost In Space’? I have heard that it has some seriously good VFX.”

“Sure, why not!” I say, trying to inject as much enthusiasm in my voice as I can. I am so not a fan of sci-fi movies! How the heck did we both end up together??

He winks at me and grins. “Gotcha! You should have seen your face. I know you are not a fan of sci-fi movies.” He sobers up a little. “Did you really think I will make you do something that you do not like? Please be honest with me at all times, Amisha. I only ask this of you.”

I am touched by his sincerity. I stretch forward and place my hand on his over the table. “It should not always be about me, Venkat.”

He holds my hand with his. “I will always make it about you. You have to accept that.” He mutters while looking at my hand. Then he suddenly grins as he runs his fingers over my hand.

“Sure, laugh at my chubby hands, won’t you?!” I say in mock anger.

He shakes his head but laughs. There is something very pure and innocent about his laughter. It never fails to melt my heart.

As if that wasn’t enough, he then goes on to say, “I will make sure that they stay chubby always.”

What was I saying about romance being absent and all??

In the evening, we go out for a stroll across the colony where we live. Venkat has a fair number of friends and we end up meeting people in every lane and getting congratulated by them.

Venkat’s easy demeanor helps me to relax. But then he has always soothed my mind with just his presence. There is something very assuring about him that makes you believe that nothing can go wrong as long as you are with this guy.

As the day progresses into night, I feel jittery and anxious.

We both have already had this discussion, that physical intimacy is not on the cards. None of us are comfortable with it. But still I can’t help feel nervous. This is the first time in years that I will be sleeping beside a man on the same bed.

I sit on the bed and run my hands over it. I feel a sudden pang of regret. It should have been Venkat and me, right from the beginning. But no! We both had to meet other partners, get our hearts broken and then end up together when everything inside us is damaged! Probably, physical intimacy would have come easily to us if we had met before, when everything was rosy and good in life.

I sigh and shake off my reverie. The past is gone. The present is good. The future looks promising. Venkat is – how do I describe him? He comforts my soul. He is the shade to the burning restlessness in my heart. He is like the cool night, bringing me solace from the raging sun in my soul.

And right now, he has stepped out of the bathroom, freshly showered and wearing sci-fi themed pajamas. Yes, this forty-four years old guy is wearing a black pajama set which is imbibed with tiny galaxies, planets and other cosmic bodies.

He self-consciously stands in front of the mirror and combs his hair. Through the mirror he looks at me and when he sees me trying to control my laughter, he just shakes his head and grins.

“Laugh all you want. But all of my pajamas are like this.” He says.

He surveys himself in the mirror. Why is this guy so cute!?!?

He sits on the other side of the bed smelling of Medimix soap, nostalgia and comfort. He looks minty fresh while I know I look like I just rolled in out of bed.

“So you bath every night before sleeping?”

He leans back on the bed and stretches his legs. “Yes. This is a childhood habit that I have carried on over the years. Unless I shower, I cannot sleep.”

“It is a miracle that I bath in the morning.”

He bursts out laughing. I can never get tired of hearing his laughter.

“So, what do we do now?” I ask him nervously. “I mean we have already discussed about it but…”

“Nothing, Amisha. We don’t have to do anything. We have had a great day. We are going to have a busy day tomorrow at the mall. So now we will just rest and get some much needed sleep. Okay?”

I give him a relieved nod. He takes my hand into his own. “This home will always be your safe space. You will never have to do anything you do not want to.”

He gazes at my hand in reverence and gently pats it. “Sleep now. Good night!”

“Good night.” I tell him. We lie down on the bed and he dims the light. Before I know it, sleep takes over me.

Sometime in the middle of the night, I wake up and find myself pressed against a warm body. All traces of my sleep vanish as I realize that my head is on Venkat’s chest and he has draped a hand over me, holding me securely to him. When I try to wiggle free, he gently tightens his hold on me. I smile and give up.

“I know you are smiling, Smirky.” He murmurs in a sleepy voice and places his other arm over my head gently. Now I feel like I have been wrapped in a warm cocoon. “Sleep now.”

As I sink into his embrace, I drift off into a blissful sleep, but not before realizing that Venkat was not right about one thing.

He had said that the home was my safe space. He was wrong. This, as I sink further into his embrace, is my safe space – his heart.

I sleep, wrapped in the warmth of his gentle hold, and content in the realization that I do not have to strive to be perfect anymore, and that there are warm and better days in store ahead.