Stories Varied - A Book of Short Stories by BS Murthy - HTML preview

PLEASE NOTE: This is an HTML preview only and some elements such as links or page numbers may be incorrect.
Download the book in PDF, ePub, Kindle for a complete version.

Story 5

Autumn Love

 

She willed herself to not to check her phone to see if he had replied. It had been about three days now. She hated that she was constantly checking his ‘last seen at’ status and yes, he had logged in just five minutes ago. Yet she couldn’t  stop  herself. This sinking feeling to find absolutely no communication from him was becoming unbearable, almost tortuous.

And then, just as she sat down in her chair, her phone vibrated. With her heart thudding in her ear, she unlocked her phone and stared  at the screen.  Finally! It was  his message.

But when she opened it and read it, she nearly stopped breathing.  She didn’t know  if he was joking or not. What was this? [*]

‘Is it a point of no return?’ she thought involuntarily moving to the edge  of  the  chair.

Reading his ‘have you forgotten about the castration?’ message, she sank into the chair thinking, ‘is it a lighthearted joke or as a loaded message?’, and for a  clue, began to recall the events of the year passed by.

‘Oh, how my life had turned on its head when I turned fifty?’ she thought in wonderment. ‘That’s when I immunized my heart against attractions and insulated my life from vacillations! So I believed, didn’t I? But when he enamored my heart to give a flirty spin to my life, didn’t it dawn upon me that I had only sterilized it for a ritual regimen, and no more. Oh, how his first glance pierced my heart  to stir my life  that  very instant!’

Returning from a temple when she found him  alone in  the drawing  room,  she felt as if god had sent his angle to receive her in her own abode. The moment their eyes met, it was as if they began their joint search for a love ground to  share,  which they  had to abandon as her husband entered the scene from behind the curtain.

He was a friend of her husband’s childhood pal settled in the States. Having spent  the best part of his life there, he came back with his wife for good, leaving their two children, who were US citizens. That was six months back and they had since settled in Hyderabad, where, incidentally, both  her married  daughters stayed.  As he happened  to be in their town alone, to explore some business opportunities there, that evening,  he came to call on her husband at their  common-friend’s behest.  Introductions over,  as her husband wanted her to prepare some coffee for them; she went  into  the  kitchen with a heavy heart.

‘While my missing his sight had understandably irked me,  didn’t  the  thought  that he too would miss my sight inexplicably hurt me?’ she began reminiscing about that dream encounter. ‘But then, how the smell of  the boiling decoction  lifted  my  spirits for it portended serving him  some steamy coffee with  my own  hands. When  he said  he never tasted anything better, how I hoped he would leave  some  dregs  for  my palate to share his satisfaction. What a disappointment it was seeing him  empty  the cup and how exhilarated I was when he said he had broken his  life-long  habit  of leaving the dregs. Then, as he was preparing to leave, how depressed I was, but how relieved I was when my husband invited him to visit us again!’

She got up from the chair and as if to walk down  the memory lane,  she walked  up to the compound gate.

‘Oh, how that fateful evening changed the autumn tenor of my life!’ she went on reminiscing. ‘Were it the deities I pray that chose  to pave  a pathway  of  love for me? Or was it a case of my prayers gone awry? Before he stirred my heart, how sedate was my life, sterile though? After all, there was no material  change after he had entered  into it. Neither I did I venture onto his love ground nor did I let him into my sexual sphere. Why should life seem drab now as he cold  shouldered  me? Why  not, won’t  the change of heart alter the tenor of life? Even the one as dull as mine, well, but it did start on an exciting note for a provincial girl like me.’

She was born to humble parents, who felt increasingly proud of her as she grew up. After all, she turned out to be the small town’s beauty and the brains of its academics. When she was eighteen, calf love turned a new leaf in her life. The object of her adoration happened to be the stopgap lecturer from a nearby town. He taught maths alright but the equation was wrong for their marriage as he  was  doubly  aged  and twice married. Yet, amidst the protestations from her parents, with  her  tenacity of love, augmented by obduracy of adventure, she ascended the altar to be led by him to his native town. Her marital life, underscored by her zest for it, though clouded by his thrift, was exemplified by her two cute daughters born in quick succession.

‘Didn’t his thrift drift towards miserliness soon pushing  my  life into nothingness.’  she began to recollect that phase of her life when her children were growing up. ‘Why, as his passion for lovemaking too lost traction, how my life entered into the arena of frustration? Yet I shut my mind to adulterous thoughts, didn’t I? But did he  stop at  that? Why, he did acquire a sense of insecurity as well and how insensibly I imbibed  both his vices! Maybe that’s why I learnt short-hand as a long  handle  for  my  secretarial security. Was it really so? Wouldn’t have my own fear of the future bred an urge for self-preservation in my subconscious mind? Who knows, I might’ve been seeking to secure my own future independent of him, but at what cost really. I was undone then, not known to me then.’

As a way out of her drab life, she shifted her focus  away  from her  husband  to center it on her daughters. How she wanted to keep them all for herself! But, as they grew up, seeing them getting closer to their father, all the more she tried to retain her mental hold on them. When she realized at length that she had ceded much of her daughters’ emotional ground to her husband, as if to offset that loss on  a  spiritual plane, she infused religiousness into her consciousness. Besides, by  then,  as the age gap began the spouses began to take its toll on their connubiality, her newfound spirituality became a tool to soothe her suppressed sexuality. Thus in time, she got habituated to lead her life in a semi-spiritual mode that  was  before  the  daughters were married off.

‘How their marriages threw my life out of gear.’ she continued with the recollection of her life and times. ‘With much of his life-long savings turning into their dowries and what with his retirement too round the corner, didn’t he become a pathetic picture of insecurity? And when it was my turn to foot the bill, didn’t I become even more  insecure about my own future? That’s in spite of my handsome savings and the remaining length of service life! Maybe, insecurity lies in one’s mind and not in the investment portfolios.’

So, reinvigorating herself on the religious ground, she began perambulating around the deities in assorted temples, praying them for reciprocity in acting as her security guards against life’s vicissitudes. Not content with insuring her life for material impediments, she added numerous goddesses to guard her  against  feminine turpitudes. Living thus in a man’s world, she managed to keep the womanizers at bay from her exceptional ‘past the prime’ charms.

‘How did the goddesses down their guard that day?’ she thought amusedly as she walked back into her house. ‘Didn’t they also leave me vulnerable to his charms  when he came the very next day?’

That morning, when her husband  went out to  fetch  some vegetables,  he knocked at the door saying he wanted to peep into their place passing by it. Enjoying his expected lie, she involuntarily said that he could feel at home till her  husband  came. But when it occurred to her that he could’ve been lying in the wait to meet her alone, she felt like soothing his weary legs by exposing her shapely ones to his  thirsty  eyes.  So, before her husband’s arrival, she conceived umpteen ways by which she slyly revealed many of her sari-clad charms to his feasting eyes. When he asked her cell- phone number to ‘soothe his ears’ as well, she gave it along with a safety manual.

Sometime after her husband’s return, when he left with a  heavy  heart,  while  feeling palpably excited, she felt vaguely miserable. That night as she relived those enlivening moments, brought about by her uncharacteristic behaviour,  she  realized that she was in love with him. Though she was amused at that, yet she suffered from chasm of qualms over her conduct as a married woman. Shocked at the prospect of a liaison, she resolved to use all her moral strength not to let her love sway over her fidelity.

‘Didn’t I want to nip his infatuation in the bud by warning him that it would be inimical to his marriage as well?’ she began to reconstruct that night’s chain  of thoughts. ‘Why, I was certain that he would tuck his tail and run, leaving me alone to overcome my vacillation. How eagerly I waited for his call  to  unburden  his  burdensome love, but then, how cleverly he foiled my plan! Didn’t he say that his wife was pragmatic as well as practical althrough, and now that he had  crossed  sixty and  she was well past fifty, he was certain that she was bound to turn a blind eye to our autumn love? Why couldn’t I prepare a counter for that? Didn’t I, on the other hand, love his mischievous speculation that his wife might even welcome our healthy  adultery? What an audacity? So to say, didn’t he pulverize my resistance  to  his  courting that was so joyous any way? How thrilling it was to  be nicknamed  Sexy-Ms and, how titillating were those prolonged telephonic conversations that followed! Oh, how his recollections of my sly exposures became music to my ears to lift my spirits!’

Thereafter, deluding herself about the innocence of her harmless romance,  she  came to abandon herself on the flirtatious path. Soon, however, as he tried  to press  her  into a liaison, she panicked  no end, and at the next  turn, she stunned him with an  ‘I told my husband’ lie and he hung up in dismay with her ‘below the belt’ hit.

‘Didn’t he say it is one thing to lead a man up the garden path and another to push him into an abyss of shame?’ presently she began  recalling  his  words  tearfully. ‘Though he was dying for her possession, yet he could live without her love but it was hard for him to live with the thought that she belittled it before her husband.’

She always wondered why his sense of hurt didn’t dent her senseless fidelity then and there! She was shocked at his loss but felt relieved as well for the breakup put her back on the familiar track of unwavering fidelity. But, soon, as she began missing him even in the precincts of the temples, she strengthened her resolve with a sense of triumph over the devil of infidelity. So she tried to put the vacillations of her mind behind to put her life back on the sedative course. However, her sense of guilt for  having unfairly hurt him never left her. Besides, as her husband’s ‘ever on the raise’ cussedness only helped increase her sense of alienation from him,  she began  to  see the futility of fidelity itself. As that insensibly tipped the scale of her life towards the autumn of love, she sent him that belated invitation for union.

‘Have I lost him before I had him?’ she thought, once again  staring  at his message  on her phone’s screen. ‘What am I to do to win his over? Well, have I  got  to  do anything at all than merely waiting for his call? How long can he hold himself at the threshold of possession? But what if his sense of hurt singed his passion for my possession? Whatever, there is no way I can lose him, I’ve to cut the Gordian  knot myself and quickly at that. Once I confess that I lied about making my husband privy to his passion, won’t that address his main grouse against me? Of course it would. Why won’t his passion come to the fore, once I dispel the clouds of hurt?  Worse  come worse, won’t I be able to sway him by gate crashing? Well, even if  nothing  works,  won’t my life be still alive with the pulsations of love. Let me see what life has in store for me.’

She picked up the phone to provide fillip to her life. Preeti Shenoy’s prompt [*]