[Disclaimer: This post is a vague cum desperate attempt to diversify my writing. One of my good blog critic lately claimed that I don't write her ‘kinda stuff’. I agree and here's this experiment. Being a neophyte in such ‘kinda stuff’, i hope you’ll bear this whimsically strange post.]

He looks at his wristwatch. It’s just 9:30 , then why is this feeling of uneasiness ? He pours expensive whiskey that his friend brought from Scotland last month, into his glass, took the soda, but doesn’t mix it.

‘Things should be pure’, he says to himself. And in next second, he gulps it down. Why is this whiskey burning his throat as it goes down?

‘Where is she? Should i call her?’, he questions himself.

‘Nopes, she must be busy, else she is never late. She must be home anytime’. He answers himself.

‘But at least, she can call me once saying that she would be late ‘, he argues.

‘Yeah, if she could have then she would have. ’ , this time he replies himself in an annoyed tone to cut the weird thought process that have started to peep out in his head. He doesn’t want to ponder further.

But he is mortal. He continues to reason.

‘What’s the problem with me? Why don’t I understand simple things ? I have come late nights many times without informing her beforehand. She must have felt the same wretchedness. And I always had the excuses ready – the fun parties with friends, business meetings, late office hours. Now, keep quiet and wait for her.’

His thoughts frighten him. He decides to keep mum.

The hour-hand have completed one more round. It is really late. By all odds, he should be calling her now. She may have run into some problems with the car. Or she might have met with an accident and he imagines himself in the… No.

He slaps himself back to reality.

Quickly he picks up the mobile, dials her number, and put it on speaker mode.

‘The number you are calling is currently out of coverage area. ‘ An automated voice of a girl pitches out.

She is never this late. What may be holding her back? She must be in some trouble. But even then, she can call me. She should have called me.

He tries her office next.

The phone rings incessantly at her extension. Nopes, she is not in her office too. Then ? He puffs on yet another cigarette, smoke coming out of his lips, circling over his head and finally disappearing into nothingness. ‘Why does he smoke so much ?’ he asks himself. ‘ Fine, I’ll quit next week.’. He makes this commitment to himself almost for the ten thousandth time.

He rings up the office receptionist. The guard at the reception recognizes his voice instantaneously.

‘Hello, This is Mr. Praveen Gupta speaking!’

‘Hello Sir, How are you ? How can I help you? ‘ he inquires in a trained voice.

‘Hi Mansingh, May I know, if Madhu is still in the office? ‘

‘No Sir, Madam left at the usual time 5:30. She was with Rohit sir. Has she still not reached home? ‘ But the very next moment, the guard also understands the futility of his question.

‘No, Mansingh. Perhaps she went to some friend’s place. Good night.’ And without waiting for a reply, he slams down the receiver.

‘With Rohit! With Rohit! With Rohit! ‘ These words continues to echo in his ears.

‘So she is with Rohit ? Bitch !’ His dark-half starts.

‘Shut up! How dare you suspect her! Damned man !’ His white-half retorts

‘She is with Rohit and is that why she didn’t call him? Where would they be right now? In Rohit car’s or Rohit’s room or some hotel.’ He starts fantasizing.

‘I abhor you. You are the cheapest man alive. ‘ His heart weeps.

He loathes himself more than ever. He is going psychotic. A moistness comes to his eyes. Why is he torturing himself like this ?

The clock strikes eleven.

He curls himself up on the sofa. His big body stature seems to diminish now. Anguish or desperation ? Pain or possessiveness ? Trust or infidelity ?

He feels the growing of a headache. His eyes grows red and the face sullen. His soul feels tormented.

Suddenly, the door bell rings !

His eyes flash.

‘Ohh, honey. You are still awake ! ‘ She exclaims with an astonished voice. In the next second, she leans forward and gently plants a kiss on his lips ‘You are so sweet! The best hubby in the world’.

He gives a fake smile. He wants to scream, he wishes to cry. But he keeps his cool.

‘Hey, is there something to eat? I am starved. Rohit didn’t even offer me anything to eat.’ She looks in the refrigerator. She finds fried potatoes and while she was taking the bowl out, he took the casserole from her hands.

‘You must be tired. Sit, I’ll bring something for u. The maid has not come today.’ He informs her.

‘What? She doesn’t turn up again. I am going to find a new maid. It’s easier to get a home than a home-maid’ , she chuckles.

Then she suddenly asks, ‘Hey, what did you eat then ?’

‘We have arranged a colleague’s farewell party in the office, so have dinner there’ . He lies.

He is feeling void this time. No emotions. He doesn’t know exactly, what he should be doing or even thinking? He can’t unite the chain of thoughts going in his mind. Everything seems so vague, so desperate.

‘I am so lucky to have u’ , she says in a seducing voice while eating.

He smiles.

‘You know, Rohit’s wife is a bitch. I go to his home today. Rohit is planning to have divorce. But I advise him not to take and mend the ways. It’s bad to take these decisions so hastily. Right …naa ?’

‘Yeah, right’. He smiles again. Doesn’t say anything more, but certainly wishes to hear more.

She continues, ‘They have quarrels everyday on petty issues. Even after two years of their marriage, they don’t trust each other. I try to convince Rohit and his wife, both, in the best possible ways but I doubt if they get right in their mind. Its good that they don’t have any child.’

She finishes eating.

They lay by each other side. But sleep is far from his eyes. Should he ask her, why doesn’t she call him? ‘Nopes’, she has just been through a good mental exercise, his fair side responds.

‘What are you thinking?’ She put her one hand and curls up her leg over his thigh.

‘Nopes. Nothing ! ‘ He again wishes to outpour himself. But he doesn’t. He loves her. He worships her.

‘Tell me naa ! ‘ She comes nearer. He can hear her breath and their lips are just a whisker apart. He leans forward and gives her a light kiss.

‘Ohhh, I forget to tell you ! I break my mobile phone today. It fell from my desk and suddenly stopped working. Anyway, I am thinking of buying a new one. Rohit suggested the Nokia E65. Hey, my valentine day gift is still due over you. Why don’t you gift me that?’ She put both her legs over him.

‘Okie, sweetheart. I’ll get the phone tomorrow itself. Your old phone infact needed replacement’, he answers, trying to be enthusiastic, but stops short realizing that he has failed miserably.

‘Yippie, you are the best. I love you.’ And she gives the world’s best angelic smile. A smile which he ranks above everything, above all his materialistic wealth, above himself, above his soul. The smile which always enlivened him, but anyhow, he doesn’t feel enlightened tonight.

She goes lower. Makes a mischievous face. Winks. Embraces.

They start making love. But it seems that the storm has not yet passed. He continues to battle with the demons inside.

‘What happened? Are you okie ?’ She asks alarmingly, lying under him.

‘I am feeling tired. ‘ He rolls over and moves to her side. His hand limply touches her flesh.

There is silence for next few minutes.

‘Okie… you should sleep.’ She puts her weight over him, again trying to ignite. But all in vain ! And finally gives up.

‘My baby is tired. Baby, you sleep now! I love you … good nite’, she says credulously then takes a turn and sleeps.

He lies, staring at the roof. He is still smelling her, the small of her back gently touched by the dim light from the lamp and he is still trying to figure out. What ? He doesn’t find the answer.

He loved her. He didn’t want to lose her. He still loves her and doesn’t want to loose her.

Photo Credit : aihibed