This post has been written as part of the writetribe initiative.
***“Ajay, I’m leaving you.”
***“Ajay, I’m leaving you.”
“What?” If a bolt had hit him from the blue, he couldn’t have been more taken aback. “What’s wrong with us?” he managed to say.
“I don’t know. All I know is that I’m just not happy with you anymore.”
“But..but what have I done wrong? You’ve got to tell me!”.
“Where do I start?” I paused for a moment. “Ok, remember my miscarriage?” It was something we didn’t talk much about, especially after our now 3-year old daughter, Aditi, had come into our lives. But I had to bring it up to make a point.
“Yes, what about it?”
“Well, you weren’t there at the hospital with me, were you? And I needed you more than anybody else at that time.”
“We’ve been through this before. I told you I was hosting the annual office Christmas party. Everybody was there, I was the chief host. I just HAD to be there. I did keep constantly in touch with the hospital on the phone, you know.”
“Remember the time my parents had taken a stopover in Mumbai on their Singapore-Paris journey just to see us one evening? I told you weeks in advance to keep that evening free. But you HAD to fly out of town on just THAT day! Now my dad’s gone forever…”
“I know – and I feel really bad about it. You know I liked your dad. But when I flew out that morning to Delhi, I was very sure the contract would be signed in a couple of hours and I could be comfortably back by evening. But those guys suddenly wanted to go through all the fine print and the meeting went on till late evening. I really couldn’t help it, dear”.
“And is there a reason you call Aditi Aditya all the time? You always said it didn’t matter whether it was a girl or a boy, as long as we had a baby. Yet, you’ve never once called her by her name. Is there a problem, Ajay?”
“Oh, that!” he laughed. “No, not at all! She’s my little boy”.
“No, she isn’t. She’s our little girl. And if you have a problem with that, fine. I’ll rephrase that - she’s MY little girl.”
“Come on now, don’t be silly. You’re blowing these small things way out of proportion. Ok, so you’re right about all this stuff – but haven’t I made it up to you every single time? After the miscarriage, I took you to London to make you feel better. And I did get you a diamond bracelet to say sorry for not being able to meet your parents, didn’t I?”
“That’s just it, Ajay. That’s exactly the problem. For you these are “small” things – which you can “make up for” with a gift. Well, you know what? Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart. And after so many of these “small things”, there really isn’t any room left in my heart anymore. Maybe you wanted a trophy wife – you sure picked the wrong person to marry then. I’m leaving you, Ajay – and I’m taking Aditi with me.”
“You can’t! You wouldn’t! Where will you go anyway? You need me. A man. You don’t know how tough it is for a woman out there on her own. That too with an infant child”.
“Thanks for your concern. But I’ll manage just fine, thank you. I don’t need a man in my life. It’s a myth that a woman needs a man to take care of her”.
Ajay was stunned. He’d never seen his wife like this.
As I left, I called back from the driveway. “By the way, I’ve left the diamond bracelet and all your other fancy guilt gifts in the cupboard. Feel free to worship the cupboard now. You can even call it Aditya if you like”.