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The night she left

ketaki_p18
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Synopsis

Chapter 1 - Chapter 1

Day 0

"So what is it that you want me to do?" I ask, frustration lining my voice.

I am dead tired as it has been a very hectic day at work. The last thing I want now is another row with my wife. But she seems to be all in the mood for the same. Sitting in front of the TV, watching it blankly, she doesn't utter a single word and that irritates me even more.

"Will you talk?" I ask, through gritted teeth, looking at her.

Navya finally looks at me, a look of utter exasperation on her face.

"I should have known. You all men are the same," she says finally, slowly, stressing each word as she says it, letting it sink into my consciousness.

Ha! That's her ultimate final weapon! 'All men are the same'!

I throw my hands up in a gesture of frustration, walk up to the living room cabinet, yank the door of the mini-bar open noisily, not bothering that the hinges are about to fall apart, and pull out a bottle of Tia Maria.

"See what I mean? You have got one solution to all problems! Just drink. That's all you can do," she says, her tone laced with anger.

I ignore her as I pour a full glass, even though she is actually getting on my nerves now. I just want to anaesthetize myself, desensitize my emotions to her verbal attacks.

"Carry on, enjoy!" She says sarcastically, getting up and walking towards our bedroom.

I carry my glass and sit on the sofa unabashedly. This is my way of retorting to her insults.

I know what she will do next. I have come to know all of her ways in the four years of our

marriage.

She will say she has a headache. She will pop a pill. And go to sleep.And I will have to either sleep hungry, or get up and cook Maggi.This is what usually happens.

I wait for her to declare her throbbing headache, thanks to her useless and good for nothing husband. I wait for her to call it a night.

What I don't wait for is for her to abruptly pick up her purse, go out of the door and slam the

door shut behind her.

I am surprised. I really wasn't expecting this reaction. We have had bigger and more serious fights. But she has never left the house.

Where will she even go, I wonder? We don't have any relatives in this town. Yes, we do have friends, but it would be embarrassing to go to one of them, saying I have had a fight with my husband and I need to spend a night! It is usually me who takes to the living room sofa at night, whenever we have one of these fights.

She will come back once she cools down, and hopefully by that time, even I will have cooled

down, I guess.

I sit back, trying to remove all thoughts from my mind, as the Tia Maria travels down my

oesophagus, bathing and soothing my throat on its way. In some time, I can feel it has reached my blood vessels, and then my brain, as a different quality of coolness tinted with a sense of warmth begins spreading across my body. I switch the channel on my television set to a musical one. A soft instrumental sitar is playing in the background of a video of a white sandy Beach with clear turquoise blue sea, waves of which turn to white shimmering froth as they break along a row of deep seated rocks. The music, the visual and the spiked blood coursing through my veins, everything adds up like a lullaby, taking me to Faraway land in no time.

The loud shrill ringing of my mobile jerks me from my sleep.

For a moment I am completely disoriented. I gaze around, trying to take in our living room. It takes me a moment to remember why I am here instead of our bedroom.

The mobile has stopped ringing. But the television is on on the same music channel I had been watching, though now it is playing a slow instrumental yoga loop in the backdrop of a sunrise. l get up from the awkward position I have slept in on our sofa and realize my left side is numb with ants. I try to shake and jerk my left hand to make the ants go away, but they seem to intensify the more I try to get rid of them.

I rub my eyes and shake my head. My head is still heavy. I have no idea how much I drank

yesterday night. I don't even remember when Navya returned home since the last thing I remember is the soothing sitar notes and the blue and white waves.

I get up and scramble towards the bedroom, expecting Navya to be fast asleep alone on our king size bed. But to my surprise, she's not there. Nor does the bed look as if anyone has slept in. Though I know that even if she had slept, she would leave the bed in an impeccable state before leaving. So the possibility is that she was here, and now she's gone to work.

I glance at the wall clock. It's 8:30 am. She must definitely have left since she leaves home by this time every day. She works as a Maths teacher at the local school in our town, and her classes begin by 9.

I, on the contrary work as an assistant manager in a private bank. I still have time left to freshen up before I am supposed to report for work.

I head towards the bathroom. A freshening mouth wash and a hot shower later, I feel slightly human. I head towards the kitchen to see if Navya has kept my breakfast and lunch box ready, as she does each morning.

There is nothing. The kitchen doesn't seem inhabited either. That's weird. We may have fought thousands of times, but however cross she might be with me, Navya never fails to cook for me or give me home made food for office. So this is very unlike her.

Did she really not come home yesterday night? Was she really so angry that she preferred staying over with a friend rather than coming back home? What were we even fighting about?

Was it so grave as to leave me lurching here alone?

I take my cell phone and dial her number. It's switched off.

Anger begins seeping inside me again. What the hell? It's a rule between us that we never switch off our cell phones and disappear. However angry we may be with each other, we don't not take each other's calls. So should I be angry or should I be worried?

I call her again. It's switched off.

I stand in my living room, unsure what to do. Should I call Niyati?