Silence is Torture

He could not take his eyes off her as she sat there in her pink nightie, reading the morning newspaper, sipping on her green tea. She had stopped talking to him 15 years ago; but he was still very much in love with her.

As he looked at his watch, Lt. Gen. Rishabh Shukla realized that it was time for his important meeting at office. He quickly got back to tying his shoe lace and walked off to his official vehicle, where the orderly was waiting next to the open door. The car started moving as soon as he got in and the door was closed.

The only thought in his mind, as the car proceeded towards his office, was about that one incident that should have never happened in his life. He regretted it every moment of his life and was ready for any punishment; but he just couldn't stand the silence of the love of his life, his Maya. Any punishment would have been better than the agony he was facing right now. The only solace, however, was that they were still living under the same roof.

As he thought about that beautiful face that was focused completely on the newspaper, the car came to a halt. The door was opened and out stepped Lt. Gen. Rishabh Shukla, in his completely official style and attire. No matter what, work was something he could never neglect. It is this attitude that put him where he was today.

The weather was quite warm still; but the breeze made it comfortable to sit in the garden. She had never realized the time until she looked at her watch. It was 10 already and she was due for inaugurating a new school in the vicinity. She had a quick bath, wore her favorite green sari, brushed her shoulder-length hair, put on her lipstick and went out to call her driver.

Her beautiful face needed no more make-up. Her hair was somehow always perfect and never needed any salon treatments. It was probably the extra care that her mom took of her, during her childhood days. Back then, Maya, referred to it as torture. She was not allowed to go out in the sun without an umbrella. Every Sunday it was time for the dreaded oil ritual where she was given an oil massage from head to toe. Many a times she had tried to escape this ritual; but apart from three to four times she had never seemed to make it.

She looked stunning as she sat in the car, ready to go for the inauguration. Those eyes had seemed to bother her when she was reading the newspaper in the morning. She was well-aware of Rishabh's love for her; but she just couldn't forgive him for what he had done. She came from a family that regarded the "pathi" or husband as "parameshwar" or lord. Nevertheless, he no longer deserved the title anymore.

When he returned home in the evening he didn't find her home. He guessed she must have gone for her walk. He was used to not finding her when he came back home. She did not want to be there when he was around. She would either go out for a walk or lock herself up in her bedroom. She avoided him at all costs and this troubled him. He wanted her to feel comfortable and didn't know if that was even possible when he was around her.

He changed into his tennis clothes, had his tea and biscuits, and left for the club. Two hours later he came back home absolutely exhausted and famished. Dinner was served. She had already eaten and retired for the day. He ate, watched his favorite TV shows with a glass of whiskey, and called it a day. This had become his daily routine for the past fifteen years. The silence killed him from inside; but that's the way it was.

Sometimes he felt it would have been good if they had had kids. At least there would be some conversations at home. However, kids meant they should have consummated their marriage, which they never did. It was twenty five years since they had got married and not once had they had sex. They had been the best of friends during the first ten years of their marriage. They had admired each other. They had had a ball of a time. But they had never been lovers.

He had tried his best to express his love for her. He had showered gifts upon her - given her flowers almost every day. But he had never been able to take her to bed. He ached for her even today. She never realized it and would never ever realize it either.

She was in her safe zone, away from his prying eyes and yet, she could hardly sleep. She regretted meeting him the day she was caught in that heavy rain, on the way back from the vocational training workshop where she volunteered. She had slipped and fallen in a puddle. When she gained consciousness she was in a hospital ward, with Rishabh watching her with those same prying eyes.

When she tried to sit, he gently asked her to lie down and told her what had happened. He was passing by and saw her by the puddle in an unconscious state. With some help from another passer-by, he had somehow got her to the hospital. She had a few bruises on her right leg at her ankle, knee and thigh. She felt a bit of soreness near her right hip. But thankfully, that was it. She gave him her mother's number and requested him to call her, which he immediately did.

After that he came to the hospital to meet her every day, with a huge bouquet of flowers. Once she got discharged, the same bouquet of flowers came to the place where she worked. Somehow he had collected information about the vocational training workshop she volunteered in. Everyday there would be a card inside it that said "Coffee?" She would see him outside the workshop at the time when she left for home. And one day finally she had said "Yes" to Coffee. If she hadn't, she wouldn't have been here today, in this uncomfortable situation.