I never thought I’d be one of those Desperate Housewives who nag at their husbands without a reason. It was the third month I was at home after Niksy’s birth. It was our decision that we’d keep the baby happy without any compromises, which meant I do all the compromises. I quit my job, which I more often than not loved, by the way. The only places I had been to after the hospital were- the kitchen, the bathroom and the two bedrooms of our apartment. Motherhood was tiring and sometimes frustrating.

Niksy was paid attention to and showered with baby talk and talcum powder but her mother went ignored and without a darb of kajal or gloss or anything to do with beautification. It was obvious I wasn’t used to it, more obvious that I didn’t plan on to make a habit of it. Ashok had taken a week off before the delivery everyone went ga-ga over him being so sweet and thoughtful. But only I had to go through 20 hours of labour pain and hair loss that followed it.

Unwittingly, I frequented into long stupors broken only by Niku’s cries of hunger- for food, love, play... She was so lucky, I thought, she would wail away to glory without even a drop of tear in her eyes and the whole house came to see what she needed, at any given point in the day or night! I wasn’t jealous of Niku… I was, well, tired… In my defense, I was cranky, sore and fat and my hormones were hell bent on practicing a weird kind of ballet all the time! Whenever I spoke to Ashok about it, which was almost always at night on the bed with his laptop on and the clicking sounds which made me wince and eventually cry softly so that he wouldn’t hear. It was all terribly pathetic!

That was the end of my sob story I promised myself as I dropped Niku off at my mother’s place. I changed into an extremely pretty off-shoulder kurti that I had for years, it was the only thing that saved me from looking fat. I wore some lipstick, some eye liner and a soft eye shade, too dressy to go to the mall, but hey, try having 20 hours of labour and a husband who never bothers to look at you after that! I was about to check if retail therapy really helps, I am not proud of it, but that’s what happened.

So, I enter the mall, looking all high maintenance and chic for the first time in a year!! I went straight to the biggest store with the most expensive clothes, one of the places about which I always promised myself to check one-day which surprisingly never came. I picked up their designer basket and was going through their Autumn collection when I heard someone call my name softly right behind me. As I turned I came face to face with one of my worse nightmares- Rajiv! He was standing right there smiling at me, crows feet forming at the corner of his eyes but still extremely handsome. I opened my mouth to say something but there wasn’t any sound coming from there.

As if watching a bioscope, I went through all those moments with him standing there in that big store at the mall closest to my house- the day we first met, his poems, his letters all those beautiful words that formed ever so beautifully at his mouth… all those promises, his stars and the moons. It was infact the picture of his last letter that snapped me out of the bioscope… I don’t remember all of it, but some words still cling on to my brain and though they are meaningless now, they sometimes pain.

Sorry, leaving you, forgive me, forget the promises, you should have the stars and the moon at your feet, I’m not worthy of you, going without saying a Good Bye because I don’t think I can make it with your blackberry eyes brimming with questions boring into me.

I found myself at a coffee place inside the mall. Rajiv was talking about his new book, still in the manuscript stage. How passionate he was about his writing! He hadn’t changed apart from the branded clothes that he now wore, he still looked like a wandering nomad with a caravan of only dreams and words, those are his words of course, don’t expect me to be half as lyrical as he was! Without realizing I blurted out, “I have a daughter!” sounding like those 4 year olds that fight over who has a better toy. I tried damage control in a softer tone, “We named her Niharika and she is indeed a bundle of joy!”.

“That’s such wonderful news! I always knew you’d be a great mother… Niharika is lucky indeed.”

“Thank you! It means a lot to me, especially when it’s you from whom it’s coming”, he looked a little embarrassed after the first seconds of satisfaction, I aimed for damage control again, “What’s happening with you on personal front?”, trying hard to sound like an interested friend.

“You know the loner me… still searching! There was only once that I felt that it is the thing but I blew it up. But it was a long time ago.”, I felt the water drain in me. “You look stunning, as ever!”, he added in the most delicious tone ever.
I looked away and tried to sound nonchalant, “Really? Ashok tells me I have put on weight; I am trying to get back in shape. You know how it is, motherhood, gets you!”

“No, not you, I remember how much you wanted to have children!”

It was years and years ago, that we had talked about having our first child. He had promised that he’d be there inside the labour room holding my hand. He had also promised he would understand the mood swings and morning sickness and still love me. He promised to write poems for me even if my feet were swollen. He had promised he’d send roses from his office even when my belly was the size of a large pumpkin. I knew he would have done all of it. I believed all of it… the holding hands in the delivery room, sending roses, the poems… all of it! Apart from all the other differences, this was the biggest in Ashok and Rajiv. Rajiv promised things that are fit in a fairy tale and Ashok never promised anything!

That’s what it was- Rajiv’s promises never realized and Ashok did things without promising them. This wasn’t a fairy tale that seventeen year old lives in… this was the real world where real things mattered and the present is more important than the past! And if I could turn back time, I would want to like my engineer husband says, shift+delete all those moments with Rajiv because they weren’t meant to happen.

Why was I letting this man bother me, who really meant nothing to me!! I interrupted his speech on how wonderful motherhood had made me (I laughed inwardly when I thought of all those times when I was so jealous of my baby!) and told him, “Rajiv, it was such a pleasure meeting you again but I am so sorry! I promised to pick Niksy up in time and I really don’t feel like breaking that one. Have a great life ahead! Do come over sometime.”

While at Mom’s I hugged and kissed Niku so much she got irritated and started crying. I cleaned the house and made Ashok’s favorite dinner. I put Niku to sleep and had a shower, wore his favorite dress and some makeup. When Ashok came home, he was all impressed and pleased. In bed, the laptop went on again thankfully Niksy started yelling her lungs out at the very moment. While cajoling her to stop I pushed the envelope a little further.

“Ashok, I met Rajiv today at the mall. He has become a writer, you rem— “

“Rajiv? What?”, he sounded so bewildered I turned around to see the look on his face. The laptop lay abandoned aside, that, right then was the most triumphant moment in my entire life. I must have grinned too much which made Ashok take on a more subtle tone, “You mean that Rajiv? What did he say?”

“He told me I looked stunning as ever and that motherhood brought a new colour to my personality… but I couldn’t talk to him too much, because I had to pick Niksy up. I have invited him over too. It’s been a long time, no?”

“Invite? Really? Umm… why? I mean, we… I don’t know him that well. He wasn’t even in the gang, you know…”, Ashok sounded so dumb when he made excuses! I went up to him and kissed him for a long time. It had the desired effect, the stuttering and stammering stopped and the laptop was switched off.

Ashok had to leave for Delhi the very next morning. In the afternoon somebody was at the door. I opened the door and there it was- a cutely decorated wicker basket with fresh lilies, my favorite and strawberries! Where the hell he got strawberries in that season, I wondered. I didn’t even have to read the little letter in it to know who it was from. Told you, Ashok did things without promising them!