The Bitch
Chapter-I
Preetilata
She was a dark, unconfident, nervous
girl of eight, going everyday to the school Principal to report bullying, with
no result. Her emaciated body made her look darker than the actual. Her mother
stopped pushing her to eat after her brother was born. No, not because it was a
`` dream come true`` to have a male child but because Preetilata had no time.
Preetilata’s comrade husband`s bizarre
trial on non-income generating professions made her the sole bread earner of
the family. She was grateful to her husband, very grateful.
Born in a conservative Brahmin family
her father left her in his ancestor`s fort-house in Varanasi to be raised by
her grandparents, who never felt the need to send her in a school. Preeti`s
father took his wife to accompany him in his transferable job till the time a
male child was born. He never thought of killing or abandoning his girls but
left them to grow a ``weed-life``. After five girls when a boy was born
Preeti’s father decided to settle down in his home town Varanasi forgoing
further promotions. That was when Preetilata was allowed to appear for
10th standard exam. Beyond anybody`s expectation she passed with 52%
marks that enabled her to get admission to
a high school .
Never much allowed mixing up with
children of her, own age, and unaware of current situations, those two years were
worst two years of Preeti’s life.
She was five feet five inch, seventeen
year old, with beetle shape face of golden complexion, adorned by knee-length wavy
hair, when her father chose a dark boy of twenty seven for her. He was son of
his friend, a rebel with dreamy eyes for a changed society - a society of
equality.
That was a turning point in Preetilata`s
life when Akash encouraged her to complete her studies. She graduated with
honours just before Damayanti was born.
Akash was overwhelmed, seeing the child
looked exactly like him, not a single glimpse of her mother. Everyone saw a
dark child in Preeti`s golden hands but no one noticed the bleeding inside.
She completed Master Degree, becoming a
Government-School`s teacher of Hindi.
While submitting her thesis Akshar was
expected. Ultimately a fair child was born. Be a girl or a boy how much she
expected a fair child, looking like her.
Her comrade husband never differentiated
between the children. The dream of a society with equality was far more
important than a wish for a ``male child``.His family was never in centre of
his life.
Beneath the pride of having a rebel husband
Preetilata had insecurities. She never attained the intellect level of her
comrade husband. For Akash she was a student, a dependable wife, a base for
life but never a friend. Every evening he enjoyed talking to his high intellect
fellow comrades of fair gender but he never left his wife.
Over working, tension, insecurity crept
to weaken Preeti. Everyday was a day of erosion.
She was only thirty eight when Damayanti
turned seventeen. The daughter`s uncanny resemblance with the father made
Preetilata to believe that she was never going to be her own. Damayanti was
never ``her own``.
Damayanti
Damayanti was lean with piercing eyes
and thick lips. The only thing she inherited from her mother was her wavy hair
bouncing around her face. She was no more a shy girl, with her natural glow of
puberty she looked wheatish than dark. People praised her as she turned to be a
nice damsel which was nevertheless a relief of their fear about her ugliness of
childhood.
Damayanti hated her old fashioned name
as she grew up; she had hardly anything for her mother. She always avoided boys
and enjoyed solitude. Her face book account was full with friends from
different countries who shared similar interest in photography or animal rescue,
where she was sure she would never meet them in person. Though her childhood
friends became soft with her with time but she despised them a lot.
Preetilata died when Damayanti completed
her MBA in finance and Akshar was in engineering college.
Damayanti left her small home town to
start working in a Bank as a junior business analyst in the city. There she met
Jayant, a young sales Manager of six feet height. His deep voice, muscled body,
vulnerable eyes captured her. She never realised if Jayant had captured her
soul or incited her desire. He was everyone`s favourite, the beautiful front
desk girls stole glances whenever he passed them. Damayanti felt ecstatic when
Jayant started fumbling while talking in front of her. It was an attraction to
the unknown, attraction to the taboo. She was drawn to magnetic Jayant. His
warm breath on their locked lips made her breathless on their first date.
It was three months when she started
feeling suffocated. She started to the hate nights she spent with him. But his
overpowering charisma tamed her as a pet. It took few months more for Jayant to
realize that she was an escapist, when
he called her a whore, threatened to reveal their relationship and ended up
hitting her face on a busy working bank day.
Nobody had any idea that they shared
nights, nobody even imagined. Damayanti knew to keep secretes.
Other colleagues caught hold of Jayant
found him inebriated, thrashed him before handing over to police. Damayanti was
left with, a scar on her left eye brow and a fear of acid attack from a jilted
lover when she had to go to her home town, for her father`s immediate need of
by pass surgery.
Akshar
Akshar never depended or had faith on
parental help in getting settled, before he got a job and married his college
sweetheart Neha to settle down in Canada.
He was neither close to his father nor did
he share any resemblance with him. He was part of Preetilata. The ``home`` part
closed inside Akshar when Preetilata died and he found his refuge in Neha. But
like an obedient robot he remained available whenever it was required.
Damayanti always wanted to keep her
little brother aloof from responsibilities. Father was the only person she felt
connected with, responsibilities never bothered her. She was a part of Akash.
In three major operations she only let Akshar to know before hand was the by
pass surgery. She needed the extremely dependable Akshar beside her.
She was afraid of loosing her father.
Akash
Akash decided something for his girl. A
decision of marriage. A young man from a rightist family. A well settled man, a
mama`s boy for Damayanti.
``He is the right man for you`` comrade
Akash explained his daughter.
``Doing a nine to five job. He is
grandchild of a friend of my Guru (his senior leftist comrade whom he
followed)``.
Akash chose a man from a rightist
family. He monitored the marriage with a huge bandage on his chest clutching
his son`s and daughter-in-law`s hands. Damayanti took a transfer to head office
in Mumbai to settle down with Shyamal.
Chapter-II
Shyamal
Shyamal was the only child of his
parents and had lost his mother five years back. He was unexpectedly born to a
forty five year old mother and fifty five year old father when they almost lost
their hopes for a baby.
Damayanti`s father-in-law was a stark,
peevish ailing man of eighties who never liked her western dresses or late
sitting at office. His unpleasant face watched every step of her. Every time
Shyamal was back at home he started complaining about Damayanti’s behaviour,
non-interest in cooking and her dresses. Shyamal turned into a daily
transmitter of inputs about behavioural correction.
Oxygen started decreasing in slow rate.
Damayanti shifted to Indian wear, started cooking with her office returned
tired body and stopped arguing with Shyamal. Her window was her office.
Somewhere deep inside she knew if Shyamal had asked her to leave the job, she
would leave Shyamal. But Shyamal never did. She was a prize for Shyamal, an
asset to brag on. A fresh connect to the modern world. He was too weak to fight
his father; he had gratitude of an obedient child. He admired Damayanti`s free
spirit, deep inside he nurtured a fear of loosing her.
With Damayanti`s, hospital stuffs` and
the neighbours` relief one day Shyamal’s father passed away after their seven
days sleepless night outside ICU. Shyamal inherited the Crore Rupees worth flat
and some nominal bank balance. He felt left alone in this world with the loss
of his father`s steady government pension and with his unstable job. Inertia started to creep him up. He became all
most silent.
Dhananjay
On
a low work-pressure day Damayanti saw on ``Nature`s photography`` page a
picture of Pune. Rising sun over a lake, silhouette of a king fisher on a bear
tree. `How serene! ``she thought. Before posting the comment she noticed the
name of the photographer - Dhananjay.
The
reply came almost immediately.
`` Are you interested in Photography? ``
``Yes! A bit! I don`t get much time
though. ``
``If you have a passion you have to make the
time. Else time never comes. ``
Damayanti
got her senses back with her boss`s voice asking for a report.
`` You have to make time for your passion``
she repeated in enchant.
``What??``
`` Nothing Sir. I am mailing the report in a
minute. ``
Them
Shyamal
had lost his job due to high number of uninformed leaves. He mostly stayed at
home. He hardly went out or kept in touch with friends. He grasped on the money
he had inherited, never offered any contribution to the household expenses and
never complained about anything.
Damayanti
understood two things about Shyamal, it was meaningless to request him to find
another job and he might be dead without complaining if she stops giving him
food.
They
hardly spoke. Damayanti started feeling fatigued, even to soothe comrade Akash,
lamenting over her misfortune. She felt offended when Akshar called up offering
monetary help on Neha`s request. She cleared that her income was not bad in
Indian context though she didn`t earn in Dollar.
Chapter-III
One
thing kept banging on her head.
`` I need to stretch these 24 hours to
more. How irrational, I need to stretch a day? ``
The
meeting
There was a post calling all wannabe
photographers on Sunday at Fort area for a photography workshop under
supervision of Mr. Firoz Akhtar.
`` I need to make my time`` she thought
as she registered her name. Damayanti took out her DSLR camera from wardrobe.
She bought it with savings of her second and third salary. Her first salary
went out buying gifts for her full family. How selfless she was few years back,
now she hardly felt like even speaking to them.
Sunday morning 9am sharp she started
from home without noticing Shyamal was looking at her from the corner sofa. She
informed him she had work, so might get late and the food was in fridge but
never discussed in details.
It was an amazing Sunday full of
surprise. All like minded people gather together to follow Mr. Akhtar in hopes
of capturing their own masterpieces. In long
time Damayanti never felt so fresh in a torrid afternoon.
But the surprise was somewhere else.
There was Dhananjay. First she couldn`t relate, only wondered `` where I have
seen this man? ``, when Dhananjay came up to her with a gaiety smile.
`` So...? You have made your time? ``
``You? Here? ``
``I assist Firoz Sir, I am in his team.
I only posted the event on face book on behalf of our photography school.``
`` Oh!! `` A fresh breeze reached her.
Dhananjay took more interest to remain
beside her than with Mr. Akhtar.
`` I like your height. What`s your
height? ``
`` I like tall girl `` a young man said
inside Damayanti with a coy smile on the first night of their marriage.
`` Five seven`` she replied.
`` Not that common in India. I went to
Pakistan with Firoz Sir, there girls are quiet tall``.
`` But in India Punjabi girls are pretty
tall too. ``
`` Yeah! And beautiful too`` Dhananjay
said with a smile. `` You have any Punjabi connection? ``
`` How cruel `` Damayanti brooded.
Somewhere Preetilata was till living inside her. She broke into a smile.
`` Do I look so? Or, it is your cruel
way of hurting people? `` Damayanti broke in louder laugh now.
She saw no joke in Dhananjay`s eyes but a
sheer surprise. He hurried her to join the team.
Damayanti came back with a glare in her
mind and didn`t feel any weariness while cooking. Shyamal was fast asleep. She
had to dine alone.
After few days of silence Damayanti`s
mobile flashed a message.
`` Would you be interested to join the
next photo-walk on Saturday? ``
The message was from an unknown number.
She remembered exchanging number with a girl in the last session. ``Ahh!! I
have forgotten to save her number then`` Damayanti tried hard to remember the
girl`s name. There was no name mentioned in the message. She thought of calling
the number at lunch hour to find out who it was, which eventually she forgot.
At 8.30 pm she received another message
`` you didn`t respond``. Her heart jumped with surprise when she saw it was
signed `` Dhananjay``.
`` How he got my number? ``. She was
dumb found when Shyamal entered the kitchen to fill a bottle from the aqua
guard. Damayanti hurried on her cooking, ``Shyamal must be hungry`` she
thought.
The mobile light flashed with a new message
in the dark room beside her, `` Are you wondering how I got your number? ``.
Damayanti stole a look at Shyamal, saw
his back, he was sleeping. She switched off the mobile.
`` Are you playing games? ``Shyamal
asked. Damayanti thought for an answer.
`` You have office tomorrow, sleep now ``.
`` Yes , yes. I am addicted to games you
know, don`t worry I have switched it off. Sorry, the light woke you up. No? ``
Shyamal didn`t answer.
`` Why I am acting weird? I have done
nothing to hide `` she scolded herself. `` Oh yes I was surprised. Perhaps Dhananjay
is in inebriated condition, that`s why he was messaging. I should have messaged
him asking to stop disturbing me. Come on! Those were some harmless messages
only. `` Damayanti fell asleep talking to herself.
In the coffee break she came out in the
smoking zone of the office and found no one was there.
`` Hello! Dhananjay? How did you get my
number? `` She called him up.
`` Sorry sorry!! I was drunk last night.
Terribly sorry to disturb you. I – I just wanted to know if you are – er –
coming on Saturday or not?
Awkward silence.
`` Actually, you were telling your
number to a girl... well...and I noted it. Please forgive, it will never happen
again.
Dhananjay waited for Damayanti to cut
the connection.
Damayanti sighed. `` I am no more an
inexperienced young girl longing for taboos. Nobody can any more sweep me over
feet`` she thought while disconnecting.
Saturday morning Shyamal trudged
himself, out of the house, at 9.30 am with a new curriculum vitae in his
folder. Damayanti left for her new photography lesson. Saturday Sunday were her
weekly off and everyday was an off for Shyamal.
She saw Dhananjay. He kept avoiding her
eyes neither she tried to break a conversation. By 2pm they entered an eatery
for lunch. Over enthusiastic students fought to huddle in the same table with
Mr. Firoz.
`` Spending even five minutes with Mr.
Firoz is fruitful. He keeps on telling new things. `` Damayanti thought when
Dhananjay came to join her on the table.
`` I- I.. am sorry. I shouldn`t have taken your number
without asking you. I haven`t touched liquor after that day. It`s so
embarrassing. ``
``Do you take liquor everyday? ``
Dhananjay`s face flushed.
`` Actually I stay here alone. My
parents stay away at our home town. After office I join Firoz Sir`s evening
classes to assist him. I get so tired, but my thoughts don`t let me to doze
off......``
Damayanti half listened his gibber. Now
a day, she felt irritated over long conversation. She vaguely saw Dhananjay`s
face. She never noticed before he was quiet a fair guy. Light brown hair
covered his forehead, firm jaw, but soft lips, nose made out of an eagle beak.
Damayanti smiled in her mind how much Preetilata liked sharp features she
remembered. ``Shyamal has soft lips of a baby, vulnerable pink lips`` she
thought.
`` You look nice. I didn`t understand
why you reacted like that last day. ``
`` Oh! Thanks. `` She tried to smile.
`` I am genuinely sorry for those
messages ``.
`` It`s okay. `` This time her heart touched
her smile.
The gaiety smile returned on Dhananjay`s
face.
`` So what does your husband do? ``
Damayanti got stiff, this question she
hated most. Every time, every where people keep on asking her.
In the beginning she tried to remain
honest telling everybody that she was the bread earner, but she opted lying
very soon.
`` He is in business you know,
export-import...! `` was the answer she opted for, otherwise the reactions were
unbearable.
``What?
Why? Why don`t you tell him to work? Did he lie about his income before
marriage? ``
``Should I talk to him? ``
`` Oh! Poor thing how much I pity you.
It must hurt when people ask you. No? I understand. It`s shame for you.``
Yes! Shyamal was a shame in her life.
How many insults she took for him?? It
tore her apart. She opted to be a respectable woman of the society over a
pitiable one, through lies. She pretended to be one of those lucky women whose
husbands remain so busy to earn that they had no time for their family. Damayanti
loved the sympathy and respect pervaded through the listener.
``A
woman whose husband is nothing has no place; people take every possible way to
lower her down in form of sympathy or by making her a gossip object. As if they
would have been happy if she had taken a divorce. They could have got the
“wonderful chance” to talk behind her, to discuss how bad divorcee women are. Marriage is a trap!! `` Damayanti tried to
stop thinking with a sigh to concentrate on Dhananjay.
It was an uneasy moment when she found
Dhananjay had already paid the bill when she was lost. He didn`t disturb her,
simply let her to think.
The lesson was about how to shoot
strangers, sometimes without letting them to understand. At the end Dhananjay
said `` It`s easy you know. Just capture them when
they are lost. `` He brought his DSLR`s display in front of her. Lots of her photos
were there, sitting unmindful at the eatery. Damayanti couldn`t get angry this
time.
`` You scoundrel!! Delete them. `` They broke
into a loud laughter.
Damayanti found Shyamal at the entrance.
`` How was the interview? ``
`` They will let me know. `` Damayanti
no more felt irritated with his impassive slackness.
Chapter -IV
She was surprised when she saw her photo
on face book uploaded by Dhananjay, opening her account at the lunch hour. It
got three hundred likes from other members of the group and from Dhananjay`s
long list of friends. Many of them asked ``who is she? ``where Dhananjay had
replied `` She is my friend and don’t worry she is married. `` followed by a
winking smiley. Few of her colleagues who were in her friend list came to
congratulate her on the photo. Damayanti told them it was taken by a
photographer friend with a wink. It was a beautiful light moment.
There was silence for few days when
Dhananjay came on chatting and asked if she was interested to go somewhere with
him? It left Damayanti speechless.
`` Is he mad? Is he offering sex so
directly? `` She thought to disconnect when Dhananjay detailed that five photographers
and twenty models were going to Goa on a photo shoot and he was allowed to take
an assistant and no need to worry the accommodation would be separate.
There were a fifteen or twenty days gap after
Damayanti turned down the proposal. One day Dhananjay called up requesting her to
meet him. He had something to tell her.
She took a half day leave from office to
meet Dhananjay at Bandra. They entered a dimly lit posh coffee shop detached
from the tumult in the middle to the tumult. He came and sat just beside
Damayanti with two cups of coffee.
`` You wanted to tell me something. ``
`` Yes! `` without a cue all of a sudden
he kept his head on Damayanti`s shoulder like a helpless child. Damayanti remained
frozen.
`` I got an assignment`` Dhananjay
continued `` I am moving to America for next three years by next weekend.`` She
felt vacant. He was leaving. It was Wednesday. Nine days left.
`` I wanted to be with you so very much,
why you refused to come? Whom you are fooling Dama? Anybody can understand you
are not in a happy marriage. You always avoid speaking about your husband; does
he really stay with you? ``
Dhananjay straightened himself, tried to
sit dignifiedly. Damayanti felt a long lost emotion within her, bulging to be
expressed. She was just living a life of lie. Everywhere she went she carried
the burden of her marriage, impersonating to be a happily married woman. Even
she assured her father that Shyamal had started a business. Always swathed in
unbearable lies to save a face, a face of grace, a face with a wish to be a
less pitied woman.
Damayanti couldn`t speak a single word. Dhananjay
wiped his tears to sip the coffee. The hot coffee, gone almost cold.
`` I will come back after three months after
getting bit settled there. Make up your mind. I want you to come with me. ``
Dhananjay uttered possessively to cover up his nervousness. They saw a movie
together and left with a promise to meet on the last Sunday he had before
leaving for America.
Damayanti remained awake almost the whole
night keeping her mobile on vibrator mode under her pillow. She felt the
vibrations as messages kept on entering. She knew whose messages they were. She
couldn`t move Shyamal cuddled her tightly in his deep sleep. She turned her
face saw a dim light fell on his lips through the curtains. She wanted to turn
off the ac. She felt cold, very very cold.
Next Sunday they met at their favourite
place- Fort, it was a quiet meeting. Dhananjay came to leave her at the
station. Damayanti had to catch a local to get back home. The ladies` first
class compartment was empty on the Sunday evening. She stood on the door while he was standing
on the platform to bid goodbye.
`` It`s like a teenager love story`` she
thought. `` But life is so different now. ``
The train started. Dhananjay jumped into
the train to steel a kiss and jumped off. It was really embarrassing and
unexpected. Damayanti looked around to see who else saw it. No, the attached
compartment was also empty. Thank God!
She stood with her fear stupor body. ``What
the hell is going no? What am I doing? Am I out of my mind? `` Damayanti
regained herself. No she needed to take a decision. A firm decision. She saw
Dhananjay still standing on the platform looking at her, getting smaller with
the speeding train. She smiled at him, waved her hands.
A message entered from an international
number on one evening, Shyamal picked up her phone as she had left the mobile
on centre table unattended. He called her out, ``There is message for you``
then left for the study to continue his tiring online job search.
Damayanti was not feeling good. The
turmoil had brought her down. She took all her courage and messaged Dhananjay
back. After last few days` vague answers she ultimately ended up being straight
forward. Now she needed to face her husband. She forgot her mobile; he must
have seen those messages. She entered the study. Shyamal was sitting on the
chair facing the door. He looked straight on her eyes.
`` Tell me! ``
`` What? I..`` Damayanti lost her words,
her mind squirmed for answer. Paralysis slithered her.
`` You are a bitch! ``
Damayanti felt poignant. `` Bitch??
Indeed!! I sacrificed my life for you. Now obviously I am a bitch, whore,
slut... Go on man! `` She thought. But couldn`t speak anything, guilt kept her
silent.
`` Why are you smiling? What do you
know? ``she shrieked.
`` I just knew you are a BITCH. I have
faith in you. `` Shyamal continued with composure.
`` A Babe In Total Control of Herself.``
he took a pause ``somewhere inside you love your worthless husband darling. Don`t
leave me. One day I will make you happy. ``
Shyamal lowered his eyes with voice.
`` You checked my mobile? ``.
`` No! All your passwords are in my
name… have you ever noticed that??`` I always reside inside you. Didn’t you realise?
I opened your face book account. I was just waiting you to come back. ``
`` I took a right decision `` she
thought. She felt burdened, the burden of responsibilities but never felt
suffocated, with Shyamal.
The night owl saw embraced silhouettes
through the dark.
