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Previously on #AyeshaDiaries, #InmyHead Episode 1
Ayeshadiaries is a an exceptional story of a young woman called Ayesha, her coming of age and real life adventures…www.doveranalyst.com
I’ve been strong today. No call. No text. The pigeons made a nest. He didn’t help clear it and now, I bear the karmic trauma. Is it really too late? I now see how people are always scared to leave a long long omnipresent job for the search of a new one. When you don’t even know what the new holds. Is it worse? Oh, damn, there rings the….
Don’t
Read👀👉👉 Chapter 1 In my head
Chapter 2
But, it could be something related to work. Our careers.
The ringtone wouldn’t stop.
“Yes”
“Would you want to come right now, my dearest?”
He was offering me work that would pay me. He could have grabbed it but he would be too tired. He had a long day waiting for him tomorrow. How long can you go sleep deprived, after all? But that would mean I’d have to go meet him. Right now.
But….Ok, wear clothes. Gather some confidence. You can do this.
But what do I..? Yes! The new ones. He did lovingly and patiently invest so much of his precious time on New Year while I tried these on.
No, the right way, Damn, it. Oh, the butt and front side are different? That’s how it fits the curves!
He loves some tight fitting clothes on me. Else, he always says I’m in a ghagra. Plazzos aren’t….! Breathe. Be calm. What did you leave? Keys? Check. iPad? Check. Phones? Uh. Don’t have much battery. Will charge it there.
There it rings again.
“Yes..”
“The supervisor is that RK who had insulted you last time but don’t worry, I’ll handle everything. Ok? Baby.”
“Mmmm”
I crush my last smoke of the dying self-respect. He means well. Just shut up and go. Moreover, the entire call was perfumed with him taking care of me. We would be together in the office like the old times. It’s going to be great. Just like the old times. He would look at me with so much love. His face would light up when he sees me in his cabin. Just like the old times.
2 hours in the cold, some strong brisk walking later, I enter into his cabin, nervous, tired and hopeful. He was so engrossed in work, he’s ghastly taken aback.
“How can you just enter like that? You scared me!”
“I…I…was waiting right outside till you were done. I – I am sorry….I’ll go…”
“Get lost! Don’t come here….!”
The door slammed shut as I buried my wet eyes and went out to the lobby. There weren’t enough charge points. I did need the charge to do my work. I’ll have to go right there. I could hear my sighs.
It’s time to be mature and professional. Don’t be hurt so easily. Be thick skinned.
So, I get up again, knock, and enter.
“Please Come, Mademoiselle”
“Can I..”
“Of course! You can charge here also. Let me show you something new …”
“You only asked me to go”
“Your mood goes off in a second. I said go away with that attitude of yours!”
“If I’m distracting you…
“You left first. I yelled when you were already leaving. See, I’ve got rabdi for you”
He gets up with his usual doting smile. Starts eating hungrily out of the tiny box. When he finally could control and offer me, it fell. All over me. He bends down, cleans my legs, my shoes. I come from the washroom to make it between Cut and Action.
“All good, my child?”
“Ah. Better don’t ask”, I smile awkwardly.
“Tell me”
“Oh, I’m wet now. The stain on these expensive treggings you helped choose probably won’t go. Had just washed them earlier today. Not sure if you’re supposed to wash it so often. My shoes are wet. How would I survive this cold winter night…I know you didn’t want to give it, why were you even trying. I know I’m a sweet tooth but I prefer Basundi to Rabdi, so I’d have been fine.”
“Array! I did want to give you. You wear my shoes later…”
Action.
He said something about how he had left during my shoot. So, I left again. This time took the power bank from charging. Would never want to affect his performance. Miss those days when he would make me sit as his inspiration, saying I brought the best in him. Damn. Gulp the lump. Would be on my own. Whatever happens with the phone. I remember the tight slap in that exact same room, when I’d to finally hit myself to bring my fairytale self back to reality. He’d taken 2 hours of my time promising he’d come to help. But of course he wouldn’t. You’re on your own. I’d told myself. When you’ve fun you also pay the price. Never trust nobody. But, he had actually come the next day to help me.
The phone sprang to life. I disconnect. Once he was done, he kept calling. I kept cutting. I don’t have charge. Curt replies, Ok. Gn. But, he won’t stop. He insisted on making things better for me. Gave me the courage for a better vanity with a charging point and made me comfortable.
Later in the day, he calls again.
“Honey, can I come and sleep at your place? I’m just so tired”
When he comes I ask him to do the forever postponed work of fitting the mattress into the cover. He manages to injure himself. I run for Savlon. First-aid, tons of medicines. Tuck him in.
“Oh, don’t! Don’t….don’t be this wife…I hate making someone work…”, he mumbles as I take his shoes to the shoe rack to clean the room. “I don’t want to be that filmy husband who comes drunk and his wife takes off his shoes.”
He is soon asleep. I cook and soon, it’s time for him to go to his next shoot. He empties his bag here to make the backpack lighter. He returns early morning. A zombie me opens the door.
“I’ll get up and leave”
His mumbles went on between his loud snores. But I could see he was too tired. We fought a little on work. I decided not to correct him to improve him. He claims to like feedback but…
“But, I did improve after you told me to, didn’t I? I asked you if it’s better now? C’mon, who takes it that sportingly? But you can’t lie to me. You know I hate lies. I’ve definitely not been in form since a month? Now, that’s not…Just don’t lie to me”.
Food, tea, biscuits later, he again drags me to sleep on his chest. Suddenly, I’m taken aback to what’s happening on my head.
Don’t
Don’t don’t don’t…I can’t …
His fingers had such power of love that probably only a mother could have for you. Is it even possible? How is he capable of so much unconditional love?
“This is so…good…”
Half of me hates tasting blood. This caress on the head can’t be defined. It’s pure bliss. I’ll die if I don’t get this pure love ….
“Can you do it again?”
Frames melt into each other and I’ve lost sense of what’s even happening. But we did have a conversation and he gave time.
“So, what’s with you making a face just cuz I didn’t lift you? I was so tired”…he holds my hand by the coffee, ever so lovingly, “By the way, you were right about that girl. I’m sorry.”
“How did you know?”
I genuinely had stopped myself from reminding him that he’d last texted her ‘wait, let me get down the bus’ and we got so carried away with work, we constantly kept talking and he never got back to her. Nobody would respond after being hung on a sex video call for so many hours, anyways. Anyone with self-respect.
He shows me his chat with her.
“But you’ve erased the chat completely cuz you didn’t wana leave any evidence”
“I’ll tell you what happened. I called her. She’s a college girl. She removed her T-shirt and asked me to remove. She was in her bra. I said No, I’m not into all this and I hung up. You know I’m spiritual and like sweet things. I’m trying to not engage in any sexual activity. And, if I’d to, wouldn’t I do it with you?”
“You delete chats with Menaka also”
“That’s cuz I don’t wana hurt you.”
I give him my “what the” face.
“She’d written last time I want to hug you, kiss you, and you were upset. Ashram people are a little loving…”
“So, you went from my apartment when you were so tired you couldn’t lift me and you’d all the energy to video call this college girl?”
“Array…”
“I don’t know what’s up with these girls. You told Menaka you’ve a girlfriend. You spoke to me for 3 hours while you went to drop her, while you were with her, you were constantly on call with me, yet she texted such….and this girl…! I wrote you’re with your girlfriend, yet she said ok and later took off her T-shirt. What world are we living in?”
“I don’t know. Honestly, Aiy. When I wanted women, I literally ran after them and couldn’t get. And now when I don’t, they’re…”
“You said you don’t wana hurt me. So, you sexually talk with Menaka?”
“No. She has two daughters. She’s a simple woman…..”
“Have you ever…”
“I’ve never touched anyone, been with anyone since I started dating you”
“Have you ever had a sexual conversation with…anyone since we dated?”
“Yes. Once. There was one woman on the train. She’d met me. But I didn’t entertain and,….yeah!…long long back, when I was on the train and had nothing to do, I was speaking to this girl who was asking about my sex life and telling about hers. Then, she said she wants to….”
“Wow. And, you never cared to tell me this”
“It was nothing. You know I’m not into virtual stuff. I want to control all forms of urges. You want to see Menaka’s? See. Just normal how’re you…take care of your health n all.”
We talk work again. He leaves. I don’t get up to see him off. In my head, once again, I’ve allowed myself to be slapped. It’s not that I cannot see through the bullshit. But sometimes, it’s like, a self torture obsession. If you want to do it with someone, do it in front of me. I’d rather my last dusts of heart wrangled under your ruthless legs. I’d rather kill it completely. What’s the point of killing it again and again. Let it scream. Let it welch. Let it gasp for breath. Let it be teary eyed, blurry vision, doing a double take of what it’s seeing. Let it die such a devastating death, the phoenix can never rise from the dead. Crush it back to taste the dust. A hard knock onto the floor, with every nerve of yours filling with blood, a drop of blood would shed some more. For every time you close your eyes and forget me, let it struggle to breathe and choke to die. I’d told you in the very first meeting. We are too old now. You don’t find friends at this age. It’s not school. It’s not college. To love is a choice. We all hate parts of the other. It’s natural. But to love regardless is a choice. And we bear the consequences of our choices no matter what they’re. It’s not about love. It’s not about ego. In this day and age, it’s impossible to trust. And, if you get somebody to trust you, don’t break it. It’s the most priceless gift you can ever get.
He’d been troubled earlier in the day addressing my omnipresent problem of hanging up with an ‘Ok, Bye’, whenever I’m done. I explain, how I’d warned him on the first day we ever met, this is how I am. He’d said he’d understand if I said, I want to isolate and don’t wana talk. “That’s so many words more than ‘Ok, Bye’, and later you’d blame me for how much time I took with 0.30 sec plus 3 min plus 60 sec call additions.”
It’s time. I grab my phone.
I’ll not talk to you for 24 hours
Send.
I’ll not talk to you for a week.
Send.
Ok. But be available for work.
I’ve not been well. But, I’ve not called him. Or texted. But answered the, “Send me a number”. I never wanted to be be this person. Always wanted to be a cool girl. But he wanted a possessive girlfriend. Sometimes, I wonder if he directed the friend Menaka and this random chick to send this message only so, I become possessive. But, I feel if something was never yours, can you ever?
I dug up the chat to show I’d sent the number that very day itself. And, wrote:
I hate lies.
It’s not that someone’s playing a game and winning. It’s about a conscious choice that one doesn’t have that much time to find a soulmate who wants to stare at the stars with you.
And, now I’ve to go back to a sink filled with extra dishes. Cups of tea, coffee, plates. He has a habit of putting everything in the sink. I wake up the next morning to my cracked cup actually leaking. There was milk all over my palm, every time I wiped it. Maybe everything around you speaks something.
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