The Sound of the Heart ( On Hold)

3

What is love? Shradha had asked.

Shehnaaz's mind had been quite busy since then. What is love! She wondered. Obviously an emotion their own marriage probably lacked over the years.

Love! They had actually never confessed love to each other. Despite being a husband and wife, yet, never for once they had this confession between them these five years of togetherness.

But she was somehow ok with it.. Up until now. Now, after getting to hear that word from her friend and the accusations Shradha had from her own husband, this word seemed to have imprinted itself into her heart and mind. She somehow couldn't get it our of her mind.

Love!

What is love actually! She kept on thinking in her mind. But no answer she got! She had no idea what love is!

Guess very few people does. She shouldn't have bothered with it like till now, yet, she did the mistake of uttering that loud in front of her husband.

Sidharth was busy, nosedived in the newspaper, drinking all of that it has to offer. No, he, for a change unlike other men wasn't very finicky about this thick bunch of black and white gibberish the whole week.

But one free day, throughout the week and instead of being a little more talkative and conversing with his wife, he would often spend the good half of the morning post breakfast absorbed into the newspaper world like a bottle of saline to a dying man, filling up his quota for the whole week.

With a sigh, Shehnaaz took her vegetables and sat on the couch, giving him a company nonetheless, but rolling her eyes to her otherwise boring husband. This had become a non declared habit of theirs. She would give him a company, even though silently while he would eat, drink and the shit on the newspaper, while she would be chopping her vegetables for the lunch. Chit chatting in between, of some trival and non trivial things, while he would just nod and hum. And the eventually, she would be off to the kitchen, and he out for the sole purpose of stocking up the fridge for the next week. A few cigarettes smoked and some time spent with his neighborhood acquaintances, that's how their Sunday mornings would be like.

Dull and boring! .

And yet, she was somehow ok with it. Not that it changed drastically after initial years as their marriage hot older, no. Their companionship was always like this. Dull and boring and she had somehow accepted it as her fate.

But as Shehnaaz sat today to chop her vegetables, the question just plopped out of her mouth.

" Tomar ki mone hoe! What is love! " She just muttered, the question has been gnawing at her heart the whole past week since Shradha had muttered that word aloud. (What is love according to you)

Sidharth drowned, putting aside the newspaper a little, gaping at his wife. Scrutinizing her stealthily.

The question, a first from her in these past five years of being together. Shehnaaz had never bothered with this baseless most hyped word called love up until now.

What changed! He wondered as his eyes raked and swallowed his wife who sat before him, appreciating the subtle beauty silently.

Shehnaaz looked beautiful. She always did. Effortlessly beautiful. So supine with that hair of hers tied into a messy bun, a few tendrils flying with the air from the ceiling fan. The face bare, yet that subtle glow on it. The small diamond stud on her nose. The housecoat tied loosely around her waist. The slight cleavage peeking from the frontal lapel. His wife was an absolute beauty to behold. He was smitten. From that very first time till now. Yet, there hardly came a word of appreciation from him. He couldn't help it. He was build that way. He would often take a sneak peek at his wife, silently appreciating every chance he got without letting her know.