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 10^th 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.