Another day, another say; another sign, another whine

I feel like writing something now, but nothing very serious or ‘constructed’. I don’t much care for putting up unstructured posts on my blog. But at the same time, I don’t want to feel hostage to some notion. So, I shall just do as I please for now, because I think I deserve it.

It’s bright and sunny. Since I am not used to the heat, my head and shoulders are paining pretty badly. My nostrils are burning and I am seeing black polka dots on practically everything around me. To top it all, I had a severe argument with my husband. He didn’t know what we were arguing about, so he couldn’t put up a counter-argument fitting enough for my formidable erudite reasoning. This irritated me further. But I was soon beckoned for lunch, so I went.

There was kadi and rice. The kadi is especially noteworthy because it had mounds and mounds of soft, pudgy pakodas that were well-seasoned with jeera, garlic, and chilli powder. The gravy was quite thick and yellow and excellently sour with curd. So, after a couple of helpings of that and rice, I moved on to dessert. One round, brown gulab jamun. I suppose it was out of a packet, but I liked it all the same. It was treacly, soft, and very slightly chewy. Then, someone else in office had bought a packet of kaju barfis and I took a silvery square. My palette had quite a well-rounded satisfactory gastronomical experience.

A couple of hours later, I was done with my assignment. I got up, saw a lovely, cloudy sky and voila! It was raining the next second. I almost rushed to the terrace and saw all these fluffy treetops swaying in the wind. The cobbled terrace floor was getting wet and my hair was getting whipped all over the place.

I missed A. I miss A.

Traveling to Noida and not having my own transport is such a bummer. I try very hard not to feel bad or upset. I try not to complain. After all, this has been my choice. If I had the guts to drive a car here, I could leave any time I wanted to. But I am scared. There’s a price you pay for being a coward.

In any case, I miss being with my husband. Sometimes I think our honeymoon was over pretty quickly. After all, we had a long distance relationship for such a long time. We actually started dating only after marriage. Otherwise, there were those phone-calls and e-mails when I was busy doing other things with other people.

But as a matter of principle, I don’t regret anything. Even when it is strenuously tempting to do so.

Sometimes, when it rains suddenly, I wish A worked in Noida. Just to share a cup of tea mid-afternoon perhaps or just drive to Delhi and back, just like that. I miss not being with him for those 6-8-10-12 hours a day. Some days, it is hard. We can have no 'just-like-thats' during the week.

One day, just to irritate him, I told him that I had read an item in the Hindu that the Supreme Court is shifting to Noida, sector 54. He almost got three heart-attacks in quick succession.

I think the highest court in the land is still more important to him than I. Guess I can live with that.

I start aching for home around 5:30, though. Sometimes, by the time I reach, it is 9:00. I try not to think about it too much. It will make the travel difficult. What’s the point? Why have struggles that don’t mean anything?

As soon as I reach, though, I feel warm. Like something full and complete is blooming inside my heart.

After clearing the dishes, when A and I go for a walk or a short drive, I think of office the next day and start missing him all over again.

But I remember that I wanted this. I wanted this so much that I chose it. The job (absolutely did not want to stay at home, and absolutely could not), the commute (my workplace had to be far from home), and the distance from all things familiar (imperative). So, the sighs and the highs, the woes and the slows, I must take it all.

To quote my uncle who argued this before the Chief Justice of Orissa some day: You give a little, take a little, even though the heart may break a little. That’s life, your lordship.

Defence rests.