(Section 9: Impressionist)
It was around 2'o clock of the early morning of 24th December 2009, we were traveling to Dwarka in a train from Mumbai.
Expectedly everyone around was sleeping. Kuhoo and Adi were on the lower berth. I was trying to sleep lying on the upper one.
I looked at Kuhoo. She was..careless and beautiful. In the start of the month she had complained that I was getting too involved in office again.
Actually I was; therefore I had a taken a week break to spend some time with her and to catch up with life.
Few memories came by. Remembered the planning we did about our marriage and the honeymoon. I liked the hills and she liked the beaches; I asked her choice and she chose my choice. We went to Darjeeling, during an almost off-season, where we talked and walked endlessly across the winding roads in and out of the town. I promised her I would balance my work and life. And six years had passed since I had made that promise, and more or less, I had failed every year.
On one of those evenings at Chowrasta, we had stopped for tea. And Kuhoo asked about my priorities in life, which actually I had never thought about. Incoherently I spoke something and she smiled, “Hope you will include me in your priorities”.
I still remember her filled eyes when she started telling about her childhood, her likes and dislikes, every little thing she wanted to try but couldn't start, the dreams she had but could not pursue, her priorities and the expectations that sourrounded her.
Unfortunately, in some of the smaller towns in India a girl child is taught more don’ts than do’s, and the circumstances, those impact her confidence and independence. We talked for hours during those quiet moments. I promised her the world. She told I was her world.
As years pass by, I see some changes in me but she fights to protect her world. I try to act practical, but she stays in her dreams. And her belief in those dreams does challenge the reality I live in.
We spent good time together during the Dwarka trip and lived through the old memories. On return journey we sat by the window, and we're having tea when I tumbled the cup and tea fell over. Bit disgusted, I said, "Moments of happiness come to everyone's cup; it depends who enjoys the sip and who tumbles it over".
"I will fill your cup again", she smiled. "Ain't I your tea pot"?