The same man! (A short story for Write up cafe competition)

I came out of the diner and sat in the car. It was getting late and kids were home. I told Jyotesh to forget the cupcakes, but he insists upon carrying sweets home for kids whenever we go out on our own. Where is he now?

Unknowingly, I looked back at the place I just had my dinner at. A girl, obviously waiting for someone, wiped the moist off the window in order to get a better view of the road and our new hot red color car. I could see her getting awed; I could also see the men behind her, on the booth turning to see the color.

Oh wait a minute! Who was he? Wasn't he Anant? What was he doing here? Wasn't he in India? Who is the man with him? How come Anant, a guy who rejected his dream job and me, could be here when he hated America so much?

Years flashed before my eyes. My days in India were the best. I grew up in Manhattan as a daughter of an American father and an Indian mother. Fascinated by stories I heard from my parents, I dreamt of India. But my parents were comfortable here. After finishing my studies, I became an assistant to a publisher. Job was boring, but I got to meet people.

In May 2001, since I was the only one who knew Hindi, I was asked to accompany a team of researchers to a trip to Kargil, who went there to write the story on the strength it took to fight and survive. On my route to Kargil I met Anant for the first time. Alone, with his bike, about 30 kms ahead of Srinagar he was standing there and asking us for help. He had a flat tire.

He was on his annual trips to Srinagar and was just out for sightseeing. The next three days were holidays, and he agreed to work with us as our navigator since he knew this region. After a quick repair and depositing his bike we were on our way.

“Aruhi, Is that you?” Anant’s words jerked me into reality. I didn’t realize I walked up to him while dreaming. He got up and gave me a hug while I stood there stunned. “What a coincidence! Where have you been? You forgot all about me after coming back? All these years, Oh my God! You look so pretty” Anant went on like an excited child. Before I could reply, Jyotesh came in by my side “All ok honey?” “Hmm, yeah… sorry baby, he is Anant from India, Anant my husband Jyotesh” I managed meekly.

Jyotesh had heard enough stories of India trip to not know Anant. I was suddenly scared; I was worried he might punch Anant. But there he was…already talking to him about his job and his purpose of visit. Anant introduced his friend Manav and explained he was here for a project and staying in a hotel which was in my neighborhood.

Half listening, half dreaming I kept wondering if he was here to find me. After all these years, he came to seek someone whom he hurt the most. Finding me wasn’t tough at all; I have been working at same place and moved two blocks after getting married. My address was available at office directory.

They were almost finishing, Jyotesh offered them a ride back to hotel.

I still wondered; why was he here? Who was this friend? Why did he choose to sit at the table that I couldn’t see him when I had my dinner a few moments ago? Was he following me?

Dreamy and slightly dizzy with constant thoughts I took Jyotesh’s help to step into the car. He could see that I was affected. That’s the thing about him; he reads my thoughts even without saying.

In car, the men continued to talk. And why wouldn’t they, they were all software engineers, working at similar posts for different companies. Their conversation was fading on my ears.

I was revisiting the memories I shut years ago. I could see kargil again. I remembered the phone call – first to my boss and then to my parents. I was going to stay in India longer. I remember shifting in Anant’s apartment in Delhi. I remembered taking up a course in JNU. I remembered loving him. I remembered pleading him.

It was December, 2002. It had been a year I was with him, my parents missed me. They were worried about my safety. I had told them about Anant but they wouldn’t listen. I asked Anant to visit my parents as my Christmas gift. He denied. He said he couldn’t and he will not. For next 10 days, I forgot my self-respect and requested, reasoned, pleaded and begged him to come. His answer was same; he will never step in USA. I secretly spoke to his boss and my friend at Intel. Fifteen days later, he was offered a project for an USA based client. He reluctantly agreed, or at least he told me he did.

Happily, on the eve of Christmas I waited for him to arrive home so that we could leave for airport. Instead, I got a one word message, “Sorry”. Was that out of anger or the end of self-pity I do not know, I took that flight back.

From leaving his house to reaching my parents is a blur teary memory. Next few days were the worst. I found out I was pregnant. I needed to work. Back in my office, I got to know Jyotesh had replaced me. Upon requesting and endless waiting I got another department. But I hated Jyotesh.

About two months later, Jyotesh walked up to me. He showed me a copy of his resignation. He explained he is a techie, and working here during his sabbatical. He explained that I could have my position back.

Something about that meeting was so unique, that I smiled for the first time since I was back from India. Something about that meeting was so unique, that Jyotesh saw the pain behind my smile.

A meeting, turned into dating and eventually Jyotesh proposal. Irrespective of orthodox background, he wanted to marry a half American who was pregnant with someone else’s child.

We were home. I didn’t realize where they got dropped and when we reached home. Kids were already sleeping. I went into shower straightaway while Jyotesh locked the house. When I came back, I saw the hotel card. I pretended not to notice it and went to sleep.

Next morning when Jyotesh left, the card was still there. With a note “I know you still love him, sort it out”. That is Jyotesh, I knew it will hurt him but he still put me first. I contemplated while I took the shower and then called up my boss and told him I’d be late.

Half walking, half running I reached his hotel. It wasn’t really a hotel, it was a guest house. I asked reception for his room number and availability and requested to not inform him. I wanted to surprise him. I wanted to tell him about his twins. His lovely kids. I wanted him to stay. I looked at myself critically in the mirror in elevator. My heart beat were high.

I reached his room. The door was slightly ajar. I knocked, no reply. Again, still no reply. Pushed the door. I took a small step. I breathed in…last 6 years had disappeared. I was again the same old Aruhi who madly loved Anant. I wanted him back. USA or India, I just wanted him back.

I took two more steps and in view of the bedroom and of the bed, on top of it Anant and on top of him Manav. Half dressed, tangled, they were in the same position we loved.

Before Anant could respond, I was out. Out of the room and the building, straight in the safety of my home. I cried for hours. It was the second time that man broke my heart, again with same word (I heard him saying sorry as I ran down the corridor), and again for the same man.

This post is part of  Contest 8.. on WriteUpCafe.com<