Life's a Bitch!! Part-1

“When did you come home? And what are you doing here? Did you have dinner?” my mom was staggered when she wedged me in kitchen so started questioning like archetypal concerned mother. “Yeah mom” I retorted as cold as water bottle elicited from refrigerator. I knew my mom was nippy enough to clench resentment behind my unruffled reply. She became quizzical to find ulterior “What’s wrong Nishant? Is there anything troubling you? Didn’t party go well?”
I gathered courage to tremor my mom “Mom, there is something you should know before it’s too late…I can’t marry her” first time in my life, I was not guilty for being audacious cause I knew it was about my entire life. 

She reacted unerringly the way I had anticipated “Have you gone mad? Do you even know what you are saying? You want to call off the wedding? ” she was dazed and I had no clue how to make her realise my perspective. Because I was pretty sure that she could never comprehend it. 

So it was palpable to not talk about it. “Mom, she is not girl I want to marry. I have my career and you know very well that where it’s going, I always had different outlooks from life and its waiting for me now, I can’t let it go”

She was flabbergasted by my avatar, before she could utter I continued
“Please you let them know by your means else I will do it by my way”

She initiated to convey the most feasible discourse “But at least tell me the reason, did anything happen at party?  She is a very erudite and nice girl and moreover you guys have spent your life together till now. She knows you more than anyone else. Our families share alienation for three decades. How are we supposed tell them these news?”

Before mom could elongate her oration that how it’s immoral of cessation family relations doorbell rang. I grabbed sigh of relief, at least for minute I was set aside from mom’s emotional dose.

Mom went to check who was waiting to come inside; we both were jumbled because of someone’s advent at unusual time. As soon as mom opened door and she was standing with her usual smiling face. I didn’t know what to say. My mom was shocked too when she seized her. But women are clever enough to camouflage their emotions and fool others. Mom invited her like nothing had happened minute ago “Aarti, Come inside dear, is everything alright? How come you are here these late?”

Aarti entered inside and responded placidly by offering small jar to mom “Aunty, mom has sent mango pickle for Nishant, you were saying last week that he would miss home food there and you know how much he is fond  of my mom’s handmade foodstuff”. 
Mom received the jar of pickle from her. Aarti innocuously propounded help to mom “So done with packing?” 

Mom instantly replied “No beta, you know how indolent he is! Come with me I need your help. Also want to have few words with you”. Mom’s last sentence was alluring. I was assured that she would at least give vague idea of afore agony. I was neither interested in preamble moreover ancillary womanize fuss nor further furore so I preferred to leave that place “I am going to have bath”.

Though I had done providence by mopping obligation to mom, I was fretful about Aarti’s and her parent’s rejoinder. I and Aarti had brought up together. Everyone presumed we would be married one day. She literally and then eventually befitted my girl next door. Initially I didn’t notice her persona but I conspicuously could feel it last night.

It was supposed to be best night of my life. Exactly couple of week ago I had surpassingly promoted and ascertained everyone’s surmise. All colleagues enforced me to throw swanky treat which would match status. I was fervent about it.

I was too naive to apprehend of upcoming slur in party. I and Aarti entered in disco. Everyone came up to congratulate me. I introduced my fiancée bashfully.  I was pleased like never before; but I could catch disgusted smile on their faces. At the start I couldn’t get reason behind it rather I preferred to evade it. Then all of sudden it popped out when Aarti denied to dance with me.

“No,” Aarti was firm.
“Come on. I’ll teach you,” I pleaded. “Everyone is on the floor.”

But Aarti did not budge. So we just sat there watching. Everybody was thoroughly enjoying themselves. Many of my friends and colleagues were on the floor, with their wives, fiancées and girlfriends. And then Sameer and Aayesha entered.

“Who is this wallflower you’ve brought with you?” taunted Sameer in insolence, it was insinuation. “My fiancée, Aarti,” I answered by controlling my rage and keeping my mind cool.

“She is your fiancée! How come you’ve hooked on to such a Vern?” Aayesha mocked.
“Come on Nishant” she said derisively, coming close and looking directly into my eyes.
“You are an Executive now, not a clerk. Don’t live in your past. Find someone better. She doesn’t belong here.”

If someone had stuck a knife into my heart it would have been easier to withstand than these insidious words. It always rankled; the fact that I had come up the hard way, promoted from the ranks.

“This is too much” I said angrily to Sameer

“Cool down, Nishant” Sameer said putting his hand on my shoulder as if he cared that his so called girlfriend’s words miffed me. “You know Aayesha doesn’t mean it.”

But I knew that Aayesha had meant every word she uttered.

 “Let’s go,” I stated. “ I've had enough.” The best night of my life had turned to insipid as well as impertinent commemoration. We were quiet. When we were driving home, Aarti asked innocently, “What’s a Vern?”

“Vernacular!” I answered bluntly. That’s all we spoke that night. Nothing was left to talk about. All I could think about was embarrassment I had faced because of her. That night I could not sleep.

I thought of my future, trying to see both halves of my future life, my career and my marriage, side by side. I thought about Aarti, Plump faced, with small brown eyes and dusky complexion, hair drawn back into a conventional knot, not at all attractive – there was only one adjective to describe Aarti– ‘prosaic’; yes, she looked prosaic – so commonplace, unexciting and pedestrian. She was entirely agrestic.

Then I thought about my career graph I realized that it was more significant to me than anything else. I had to succeed at any cost. And a key ingredient in the recipe for success was a ‘socially valuable’ wife. It mattered. It was the blunt verity – whether you are fond of it or not! Aayesha was right. Arati just didn’t belong to that status and class of society of which I was now a part. I had crossed the class barrier; but Arati had lingered where she was. She seemed ultimately boor to me and she would remain there, reluctantly and unable to change.

At the point of our engagement I didn’t think much about her being boor. It was only now, that my eyes were widely opened; I realized the enormity of the situation. I was an upwardly mobile executive now, not a mere clerk, and the equations had drastically changed. What I desired was someone like Aayesha. She was nifty, modish and savvy; convent educated, well groomed and accustomed to the prevalent lifestyle, a perfect hostess, an asset to my career. And most importantly she was from a well-connected family.

I envisaged what life would have been like if I could have got someone like Aayesha. I really envied Sameer that night, he was so propitious to have life partner like her and I was stuck with an unmitigated disaster called Aarti.

“Nishant!” I heard voice-over, it brought me back to present. I thought ‘Arati must have left' so I approached mom to ascertain current eminence. She was gone, oblivious of what was going on in my mind. I felt a sense of deep culpability, but then it was question of my life.

“What’s wrong with you? Why were so rude to Arati, so distant? She loves you so much!” my mother asked with expectant eyes and disgrace on face.

“I don’t love her,” I said flatly.

“What?” my mom was startled, “Is there some else?”

Now it was unexpected, I never thought that my mom could even think of that.

“I don’t understand you.” She reacted with misperception
“Arati is not compatible anymore. She just doesn’t fit in.”

Though she was trying to be calm and nonchalant; her fury was visible only in her eyes.

“Who do you think you are?” she said icily, trying to control her. 

“You know Aarti from childhood, isn’t it? For the last two years you have been engaged and moving around together. And suddenly you say Aarti is not compatible?” My mother paused for a moment, and then taking my hand asked me softly

“What happened last night?”

I told her. Then we argued for over two hours and till the end I stuck to my guns. 

Finally she said, “This is going to be difficult. And relations between our families are going to be permanently strained. Think about Aarti  It will be so challenging for her to get married after the stigma of a broken engagement. Forget about last night. It’s just a small incident. Think about it again. Aarti is the ideal wife, so suitable for you.”

But I had made up my mind, so I told her, “If you want I’ll go and talk to her father right now and break it up.”

“No!” my mother snapped. “Let your father come home. He will decide what to do.”

“Mom, my head is paining like hell, I need rest. Anyways it’s too late” I genuinely said. Mom exactly captured last line and repeated “yeah it’s too late”. We both understood what she intended to convey.

I couldn't argue further I went to sleep with mountain of thoughts on mind. i was guilty but I thought all over again. Was I being selfish? Really? I didn’t think so. Was that wrong to think about my own future? What if I hurt her now rather than cursing myself entire life. I couldn’t conclude so I was closed my eyes to see what I really want, surprisingly there was no Aarti  All I could see was my memories at office, my 1^st pay check, how delighted I was when Raj sir admired my diligence and announced my promotion in front of whole staff. I simply smiled, I guess I had got my answer and had sound sleep.

Next morning I was waiting for breakfast, I was curious to know whether mom talked to dad or not. I yelled “mom, where are you? I am hungry. And where is dad?”

 Before she could answer, doorbell rang. I got up and opened the door. What I perceived what outrageous. Bunch of people was standing in front of me.

It was my dad. I was totally confused moreover nervous to reply rest of the gang because they were Aarti and her parents. I was stunned; I thought that now undeniably dad would slap hard on my face and I am finished but next what he did was wholly unforeseen

 “I have fixed up your wedding with Aarti Joshi on the 20th of March of this year,” my father thundered peremptorily in his usual impetuous style.

“Congratulations,” echoed Aarti’s parents.

I was dumbstruck. Aarti was smiling coyly. 

My mother was signalling to me with her eyes not to say anything. She was probably happy at the fait accompli. 

I felt trapped. I excused myself and went up to my room. I locked the door. Someone knocked. “Give me five minutes,” I said. “I’ll get ready and come down.”

“Come soon,” said Aarti from the other side of the door.

 I took out my notepad and wrote a letter to Aarti:

 Dear Aarti,
       Forgive me, but I have discovered that I can’t marry you and I think that it is best for us to say goodbye.

                                                                Yours sincerely,
                                                                Nishant

I knew the words sounded insincere, but that was all I could write for my mind had gone blank and I wanted to get it over with as fast as possible; just one sentence to terminate our long relationship. I knew I was being cruel but I just couldn’t help it.

I sealed the letter in a postal envelope, wrote Aarti’s name and address on it and put it in my bag. I looked at my watch. It was time to leave. Everyone came to the airport to see me off. Sameer and Aayesha had come too. They were located at Mumbai and I was off on a promotion to Bangalore.

“I’m really very sorry about last night,” Aayesha apologized to us. She took Aarti’s hand and said tenderly, “ Aarti, please forgive me. You are truly an ideal couple – both made for each other.”

As I walked towards the boarding area Aarti’s father Mr. Joshi shouted to me jovially, “Hey, Nishant. Don’t forget to come on 20th of March. The wedding muhurat is exactly at 11.15 in the morning. Everything is fixed. I have already booked the best hall in town. If you don’t turn up I’ll lose my deposit!”

I nodded to him but in my mind’s eye I smiled to myself – the “joke” was going to be on him! Then I waved everyone goodbye, went to the waiting hall, sat on a chair, opened my bag and took out the letter I had written to Aarti. 

To be Continued>>>>>> Life's a Bitch Part 2

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 - Sujal Wade & Aditya Kasar

P.S: The story is a piece of imagination & resemblance to any person dead or alive is purely coincidental.
The story is a product of collaborative writing.