“I love you” Rajat lied as Reena leaves early to catch the 7 am BEST bus to office. Reena knew it too. Rajat still in bed, could only glimpse her bare back. ”It’s casual Friday, I suppose” “Its Sunday love and its my appraisal day” Reena jocundly said as she thudded close the door. Rajat knew half-truths are like cumulonimbus clouds hovering on arid lands, holds lot of promise but mean nothing to deep scarred crevices. But its necessary, hope is necessary. Hope is cursed.
Rajat got up from the bed and went in the bathroom for his toothbrush, only to find out that Reena used it again. Two years ago, he was enchanted by her small peccadilloes, now he is disgusted. As the sun rays fell on the dressing mirror and got reflected on the bed, he noticed that there is something shining under her pillow. She forgot her mangalsutra, she often had been complaining about the pointy pendant which leaves reddish imprints of RLR on her neck in the morning. Instead of Lord Ganesha or Laxmi, Reena was hell bent on imprinting RLR- “Reena loves Rajat” Ha- and ”I thought I was the one who is crazy”. He carefully placed it on the bedside table and picked up their photo frame, lying on the ground and put it back on the top.
“We shouldn't have watched P.S I love you. We always end up at doggerels and I dont get Gerald Butler’s chicanery of impressing Hilary swank even after his death. I am sick of romcoms they make a woman’s head of an utmost stupor” Rajat is not having his usual Sunday morning as he flipped through the newspaper, holding a cup of cold and lifeless tea in his hand. Something which had become a norm like the electricity cuts in the peak summers of Mumbai. You know summers have arrived when you miss the AC more than your dear ones.
Rickety , Across Row 7- decrepit, likely to collapse.
As Rajat completed the half of the crossword, one which had become part of his Sunday norm. The unusual clamor in the park caught his attention, he looked on to see some cops were taking a person away in their jeep. The people were holding their way out of enthusiasm to see the criminal and he was being treated as a mini celebrity. Journey is not made by the roads but the traveller. He who chooses to walk nowhere, will go nowhere.
“I wonder who keeps appraisal meeting on a Sunday, the fangs of corporate leeches are sucking the sanity out of our happy marriage” Rajat believed so as he mumbled in vain.
kaleidoscope- Down 14 - An optical instrument.
Rajat met Reena at Mridnga’s sangeet. Reena was amused while seeing Rajat dance non-stop for two hours without doing a single humanly step. It was awkwardness at first sight when he asked her to join him on the floor. She hesitated only till Mridnga stepped in. How could she refuse her only friend since kindergarten and who was constantly trying to hitch her with every single guy friend of hers. “I am Reena” Reena introduced herself, hiding her chuckle….“Rajaaat” he made sure she heard his name right as his legs and hands are matching the crescendo.
“You are a terrible dancer” Reena couldn't hide the obviousity for long. Rajat looked in disbelief and looked around to see if she mentioned somebody else. His hands were making scissors on his knees vigorously which looked like as if he was trying to put out a flame off his thighs. Reena stared at Mridnga only to find cloying her fiancé.
“Reena right? Would you like a drink?” Wiping the sweat off his forehead, Rajat asked Reena with a straight face. “Yes, a margarita with extra olives” Reena knew her taste. “Oh my god! this is my groove”. Rajat forgot in an instant that he stood her up and his body went into a trance.
Amalgamate Down 46- to unite
Rajat dialed her number twice but without any success, to ask her about when is she coming back from the office. “It’s 2 pm, what is taking so long, it’s just a rating, you take it you leave it there, no matter how hard you work, you are always bell-curved”
Rajat never liked her long working hours but he knew that he alone cannot afford this plush place at Savitri plaza in Bandra. “Is she having an affair? Lately she has been spending her weekends at office than with me. No no… it can’t be. How can I think like that’?” All his doubts are like those lost ships in the ocean, at the mercy of the winds and waiting to be at shore.
“Mrs. Sengupta? A stern voice greeted her on the phone. “This is Simha Rupa Iyer, Reema’s father.” His voice was more like a stare at the start of a bout, to intimidate the opponent. “By now, you would be very well aware that your boy has asked my daughter for marriage. If not, then this is to inform you that such misfortune has come into Iyer’s household. We are a respectable family in Madurai and our past generations have always been an inspiration, but odds of that happening now, is seemingly becoming greater. I want to confirm my unapprovable of the alliance and the behaviour of your boy who repeatedly tried to enter my house by climbing the wall and balcony, often to be found at my 80-year old Mother’s room, is quite despicable. His lack of respect for the vases and flower pots which he ritually has broken on the way to his unceremonious and cloddish exit is becoming an unbearable pain. Before God’s wish, only one wish I bow to- one and only daughter’s. Hope you are brahmins”
B————t Across 37 to leave
Raja decided that he is going to put an end to this charade. “May be a whiff of divorce will shake things up and get her focus back on him”. His quest to find the last four letters is making the wait even more agonising.
“Hello is this Mr. Rajat Sengupta?
“Yes”
“This is SP of Bandara Police Station speaking”
His voice was mechanically tuned, devoid of any emotions or flattery.
“Yes Sir, how can I help”
“Are you husband of Reena Iyer, Age 32, Dark complexion, Straight hair”
He described her as matrimony ad
“Yes”
“This is to inform you that, the criminal which we caught from Savitri apartment earlier in the morning, he tried running away while we were on the way to the police station”
“Yeah so, what about my wife?”
“Please let me finish. He managed to snatch a gun from one of our constables and started shooting at us. Your wife got hurt in the crossfire but we managed to catch the criminal. You are summoned by the orders of the court to identify your wife in the St. Agnes morgue. We are sorry for your loss”
Suddenly, the missing letters flashed into his mind and he saw an irony in it.
Bereft
