Dating Mating Hating Resuscitating
Short Fiction – A Love Story
By
VIKRAM KARVE
The much delayed monsoon has finally arrived in Pune. It’s been raining incessantly all morning.
Ideally, at 10 o’clock in the morning on a working day, I should have been safely ensconced in my office, but today I sit in the driving seat of my car, slowly negotiating my way in the torrential rain, for I have an important appointment to keep.
Suddenly I see Avinash, half drenched, shivering under the bus-stop at Aundh, trying to protect himself from the pouring rain.
He sees me too. Our eyes meet. I don’t know who is more surprised at this unexpected encounter – he or me.
At first instinct, I just feel like ignoring him and driving away.
But then my humanitarian side takes over, so I stop the car near him, lean across, open the door and beckon him to get inside.
He seems hesitant, “Thanks, but I’ll take an auto – I am going to Deccan…”
“Come on Avinash, get in fast or you’ll get wet – you won’t get a rickshaw in this rain – I too am going towards Deccan Gymkhana – I’ll drop you on the way.”
He gets in and for a while we drive in silence.
“It’s been five years,” he says.
“Yes,” I say, “Quite a surprise, seeing you here in Pune…”
“Yes. I just came in from Mumbai by the Volvo bus, got down at Parihar Chowk… and you…what are you doing in Pune?”
“I relocated here six months ago…you still in the States?”
“Yes. But maybe I’ll come back…”
“Recession…?”
“Not really…”
“So you’ve come to look for a job in Pune…?”
“It’s actually something else…a family matter…”
“Family matter…? In Pune…?”
“My wife is from Pune…”
“Wife…? You remarried…?
“Yes…two years ago…”
“And I didn’t even know…!”
“We decided…didn’t we…to move on…go off on our different ways…not look back…”
“Yes…we lost track of each other completely…”
“That was good…isn’t it…for both of us…”
“Yes…”
“And you…? You married again…?”
“Yes…soon after you left for the States after our divorce…”
“On the rebound…?”
“Maybe…” I laugh.
Avinash has not changed…the way he says these devastatingly rude things in such a naïve innocent way.
We are nearing the Pune University circle so I ask, “Where is your wife’s house...? I’ll take the road accordingly…”
“It’s okay…just drop me wherever you can…”
“Come on…tell me…see how much it is raining…you want me to take Senapati Bapat Road…or drive straight ahead…to Fergusson College Road…or Jangli Maharaj Road…?”
“It’s okay…you go wherever you want to go in Deccan…I’ll get off there…”
“Oh…so you don’t want to show me your wife’s house…” I say, tongue in cheek.
“No…No…it’s not that…I am going somewhere else…to the Family Court…”
“To the Family Court…? I ask, taken aback.
“Yes,” he says, “it’s beyond Deccan, past Lakdi Pul…near Alaka…”
“I know where the family court is…” I say, “I hope you are not…”
“Yes…first it was the Family Court in Mumbai with you…and now…” he stops, as tears well up in his eyes.
“I too am going to the Family Court…” I say, sensing a lump in my throat.
“What…?” he looks at me, startled.
“I am divorcing my husband…today is the final hearing…hopefully…”
I slow down, stop the car near the kerb past E-Square. I wipe my eyes with tissue and hold the tissue box towards Avinash. He too wipes his eyes.
“Maybe we should have stayed together, tried to make our marriage work,” I say.
“Yes…it all happened so fast …maybe we were too hasty, too impatient, too headstrong…”
“Yes…we could have tried to make it work…”
“I think we sought the easy way out…we were too young…unrealistic…immature…impetuous…volatile…”
“Yes… ours was a tempestuous stormy relationship…a terrible marriage…but there is one thing…”
“What…?”
“With you I could be myself…no mask, no pretence, no forced geniality…”
“Me too…with you I could truly be myself…no contrived feelings, no holding back…I could never be like that with anyone else…with her too…the way could naturally be with you…you know I think we were made for each other…”
“Maybe we should give it a try…one more time…make things work…”
“You’re serious…?” he asks with a curious look in his eyes.
“Yes, Avinash. Let’s empty our cups and start afresh. Like you said, I too think we are made for each other.”
“Okay, but there is one thing…”
“What…?”
“Is it allowed to marry the same person twice…?
“I think so...I’ll ask my divorce lawyer…she will know…”
“Yes…I’ll confirm at the Family Court too…”
“One more thing…”
“Now what…?”
“This time…No Expectations, No Disappointments, Happy Marriage…”
“Yes,” I say lovingly putting my hand on his: “No Expectations…No Disappointments…Happy Marriage…”
Suddenly I notice that it has stopped raining and the sun is peeping through the clouds.
I feel good. I start the car and we drive on towards the Family Court…to erase the second chapter of our marital lives forever and to begin writing our first inchoate chapter afresh.
VIKRAM KARVE
Copyright © Vikram Karve 2009
Vikram Karve has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.
http://vikramkarve.sulekha.com/
vikramkarve@sify.com
2 comments:
Great piece of writing sir, i never knew there was a writer beneath your uniform when we were onboard INS Rajput, also your write up about your pet dogs was nice, I havent gone through your other blogs, now I am curious to read.
regards,
C Shivashankar.
@ Shankar
Thank You so much Shankar.
Do read my blogs and comment.
Wish you all the best and Godspeed.
Regards
Vikram Karve
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