It Wasn't Supposed To Happen

13

Bondita again found herself surrounded by shallow conversations of the women she had no interest in. She was sitting there listening to the details of lives of these women, they really should not be saying such things out loud.

" He used to buy me a gajra every day in the early days of our marriage. He doesn't do that anymore." One of them said. Was it something to brag about in a gathering ?

She was fairly unaware of the social conduct of women gatherings. These meetings thrived on every day gossips, praising of how much their husbands loved them and how mean were there in laws ! Aniruddh had never let Bondita become part of such gathering and if somehow forced to allow her to participate, he only permitted minimum time with them.

So she thought to first observe what got them all excited to know about the other women's life. She could follow afterwards.

" All men are like that ! With time they seem to lose interest in romance." The other sympathized.

" All is good till he doesn't lose interest in you...!"

This conversation struck Bondita of her own way of thinking in the past. Fighting hard to hold interst of her husband, isn't that what she had tried to do ? These women here sitting and taking made her realise that the centre of their lives were their husbands. She didn't find it wrong. Every one in tulsipur knew how her pati babu was her bhagwan, her sansaar. And everyone in tulsipur was witness to her madness of wanting to be an ideal wife for her pati babu. It was just an exaggeration of feelings of a common woman. She remembered now what her pati babu had said that time " my Bondita has become ordinary from special." This is what she looked like in his eyes that time, even worse.

She caste her eyes down remembering her wrong doings. It had been two years but the feelings of repentance had made a home in her heart. She didn't want to forget any of that. It helped her when she strayed from her path. Like few moments ago in the room. She could not control the erratic heartbeats, yet and the realisation was making her sadder by the passing seconds.

The women here, they loved their husbands and were free to express themselves. Bondita was trying to loosen herself up, trying to become a part of their exciting stories but it was proving to be a taxing task. With each story, she was becoming highly aware that how she herself was not allowed to do so. How she wanted to tell someone about her own pati babu. What all he did for her, how he cared for her.

None of her own stories were as exciting as there detailed accord of how their husbands praised the colour of their sarees or gifts that showed their adoration.

No.

Her stories were subtle. She didn't even know they held any meaning to her pati babu. But there were moments that made her smile. One such time, she remembered, she had been running around Roy Chowdhury haveli throwing orders left and right for proper decorations and what not. It was Ram Navami.

" Oh hoo pati babu ! Sit down at a place or go to your study...! Don't cross my path again and again !" She said while making her way around him. He looked up from his papers.

" You are having my study dusted ! Where am I suppose to go ?" He was now getting restless. Every where he went there were people running, doing chores, following his wife's orders. As impressed as he was by how the chhoti malikin was handling everything , she was yet to take into account the trouble her own husband was going through due to lack of a proper place to sit and have a serious discussion with his assistant.

" Oh...! Then go sit...owww...! " She bent to look towards her foot. Something was pinching her toe. " Go sit in the living room."

" Bondita... what's wrong ?
" I am fine. Bhari babu ..! Come we have to look at the flowers. They are all at the entrance. Help me check if they are all fresh then only we will bring them in."