RAYA FF: TVAM, MAMA JEEVANA HETUNA

Bioscope of memories.

How is it going down memory lane, picking out specific memories that are composed of the same elements but have a different composition? Could it probably be compared to seeing through a kaleidoscope at the array of color patterns arising from the same two mirrors but different each time, given the varied angles? Or would it be more vivid, like looking through a bioscope at one picture after another of the past events moving in your head as it does in a bioscope? Whatever the reason, what remains constant, even with varied explanations, is the fact that a walk down the narrow passages of memory lane evokes a myriad of reminiscent emotions that could either elate you or suffocate you. As Priya sat on the edge of the bed, looking at her husband, who had his head buried in his hands as if in repentance for having committed a crime (in this case, kissing his wife), it was suffocation she felt as the bioscope of dark memories of her past evaded her mind.

One after the other, she could visualize the many occasions from her life when some toxic male figure in her life made her or other women around her feel conscious and inconsequential about the way themselves.

Flashback 1:
A 9-year-old Priya was sitting with her mother on the dining table of Sood House, icing cupcakes—something her mother was an expert at making, something for which she loved assisting her mom as she made it, and something that she really cherished eating. Just then, her seven-month-pregnant maami came home with her maama.
Her maama moved to pinch her chubby cheeks as she looked at them with her adorable, innocent eyes. She saw it then in the eyes of her Maami—a mirror image of her excitement for the cupcakes being made. Priya was ecstatic to realize that perhaps her Maami loved cupcakes too, as much as she did, and so did her baby brother or sister in her Maami's tummy. A gleeful Priya picked up a freshly iced cupcake, looked up at her maami from her seat at the table, and extended it to her with a toothy smile. Her Maami's eyes shone, but even as she happily extended her hand to take the cupcake, she saw a hesitation in her eyes. Even as a kid, Priya couldn't have been wrong about this one emotion that resided in her heart permanently and showed in her eyes every time she had to face her father, who disliked her.
She wondered who disliked her maami so much that there was a hesitation in her eyes. She got her answer the next second, as she heard her maama laugh at her as he saw her hand extend towards the cupcake.
"Oh, you'll just get more fat," he said, mocking her.
Maami's lips quivered and her eyes hung low as she retreated her hand from the cupcake and politely denied Priya taking it. She didn't like the tone with which Maama mocked Maami. She didn't like her maami being out like that.
"Bad manners, Maama," said Priya with a frown on her face. "Ma says you shouldn't interrupt someone from taking food offered to them."
Her mother, however, being an adult like Maama-Maami, understood it was "something else" than a normal interruption, and so she asked Priya to shush, not talk to her elders like that, and to go play in her room. Priya pouted a little, not understanding her mother's behavior, but nonetheless did what she was asked to do. As she was headed to her room, she heard her Maama taking his sister's leave as he left his wife in the custody of his sister while he was off on a business trip to Delhi.
A while later, after having spent an hour or so playing with her dolls, Priya felt thirsty and headed out to ask her mom for some water. But as she neared their living room, she saw her mother and Maami sitting in the sofa talking, even as Maami's shoulders were shaking—a clear indication that she was crying. But why? Who hurt her? Was it because of what happened earlier? She knew it wasn't right for her to barge in at the moment, so she stood there waiting to be noticed as she heard their conversation.
"Didi, he has changed," said Maami as she continued to cry like a baby who was denied her favorite candy. "He cares for me, says he loves me, and thanks me for giving him the gift of a child, but I wonder if he desires me now."
"Why do you say that, Bhabhi?"
"It's his eyes. His actions. Don't they say 'actions speak louder than words', didi? He looks at her with the eyes of not a lover but a friend at best, a partner at most. He looks at me like being with me and caring for me is his duty. He has not touched me with love even once since we learned I am carrying a baby. And today, he even mocked me for my increasing weight. Do you think my changing body is the reason that he is distancing himself from me?" Maami asked her mom with hiccups, making her sentences almost inaudible.
"No, don't say that, bhabhi."
"So what do I say then? Didn't he laugh and say in front of you that I'll get more fat if I eat that cupcake? Oh, I feel so helpless, Didi. How do I win his love back?" Said Maami as she broke into a loud wail-full cry.
"The ignorance of husbands is something women have to endure and pay as the price for carrying the gift of life in our wombs. But it'll be alright once the baby is born."
"I don't get why we should suffer, didi?" I hope I win him back once the baby is born. I promise to starve till I don't get my old, slim body back, didi—the body that he loved. Maybe then he'll hold me in his arms and kiss me." Said Maami, as she stopped talking to blow out her nose noisily into the tissue her mother handed her.
"Maybe," said her mom as she finally turned to see Priya standing in the doorway, looking intently at them. Priya didn't make a show about hearing their conversation as she went to her mom and asked for the glass of water she came to get, but in her head she wondered what it was that her mom meant with her words, "Women have to endure."
But perhaps, now, in the present moment, Ram's retrieval was the first sign for her that she was now well onto her journey through that endurance of ignorance at the hands of the man she loved.
But it wasn't the first time the man she loved had ignored her, she thought as a new flashback came to her head.

Flashback 2:
A 20-year-old Priya stood in the college canteen with her friends, eating her favorite spring rolls. Her group wasn't too big, but it comprised people who she loved dearly and a few whom her boyfriend Neeraj loved. To be honest, the latter few were the ones that often made her feel uncomfortable, as they would take a jab at her bland fashion, Indian food, and love for books and cooking. They would also join Neeraj in laughing as he would "lovingly" tease her—she didn't like it, but then she thought teasing her was his language of love.
Her best friend, Krish, never for once liked Neeraj or the way he mocked, and his friends called her his best friend for the way she looked or the things she loved. But perhaps they don't lie when they say "love is blind," for even a rational girl like Priya had fallen deep into its trap, losing her wise insight. Together he, his sister Nayantara, his girlfriend Anwesha, and their friend Twinkle always glared Neeraj and his friends into silence, and Priya noticed it often, which is why she felt comfortable being with Neeraj, for she knew her friends would help her in making Neeraj mend his ways.
Thinking so, she continued to eat her spring rolls when, from behind, her beloved Neeraj came and hugged her.
"Hi, my fatty." Said Neeraj as he came from behind and kissed her cheek, making Priya blush.
"Are you eating more fritters today to gain some extra pounds, babe?" joked Neeraj the very next second, making Priya's smile vanish and making her face fall, embarrassing her as he took hold of her heavy, protruding pooch and shook it to make fun of her, breaking into a fit of laughter that was joined by their friends.
Priya had turned red with embarrassment. She thought herself to be inadequate. She felt scurvy. She felt conscious of her fat body.
Krish saw Priya's face undergoing all those emotions and eyed them, Neeraj, which made him clear his throat and stop laughing, followed by others falling into silence. But the damage had been done, and Priya lost yet another chunk of her confidence. She masked it, however, for the sake of Neeraj, whom she thought was the love of her life.
Years later, in the present moment, she wondered if Ram had finally, three years after they fell in love, started seeing her flaws. She wondered if he, too, would now grab her love handles and laugh at her. She feared that he would also feel that she didn't have the ideal body type. After all, as she recalled another incident, she remembered him telling her why he fell for Vedika.

Flashback 3:
It was a few months after their wedding, around the time when they decided to start building their relationship from the basic level of friendship by becoming friends who shared everything with each other.
On that day, it was raining outside, and so together they sat in the balcony of their room on their tea table, eating fritters with piping hot tea, and somehow the topic steered to their respective exes. The question was: what made them choose their ex-partners back then? While Priya had a short, crisp reason for thinking that in Neeraj she saw a man who was charming and intelligent yet very grounded and rational—a man who called black "black" and white "white," which made her think that perhaps he would be good for her as he would never mince his words. True, he never minced his words and so spoke out even the harsh sermons about her in a way that shattered her confidence piece by piece.
When the time came for Ram to explain why he chose Vedika, he had a small smile grace his lovely face.
"She was a ray of sunshine, Priya... a girl so gorgeous that she could make Aphrodite feel less in front of her beauty. As petite as she was, she looked like a doll, and she was so gracious in all her moves that you couldn't help but stare at her mesmerized. But above all, she was the daughter of a rich man who lived like a normal girl, which made me believe that she wouldn't run after money but would stick by me as I strived hard towards building a secure future for us. So I fell for her because she was this perfect blend of beauty, brains, and modesty.
He had said, Priya remembered in the present moment, that Vediká could make even Aphrodite jealous, meaning that he considered her prettier than Aphrodite. But didn't he call her Aphrodite, his Venus? What did it mean then? That he always considered her less prettier than Vedika and was fulfilling a love-filled relationship with her out of respect for the holy ties of matrimony they were tied to? Was that why he retrieved her? acknowledging that she was indeed less pretty than Vedika, that she was not up to the standards he set when he found his first love, and that now, with time, as she embraces motherhood, she will become even less pretty, while Vedika will remain evergreen and ever-so-gorgeous. She had heard of men... A MAN—her father had compared her mom to his then-unknown girlfriend months before her mom conceived Sandy.

Flashback 4:
A 12 year-old Priya was sleeping in her room while her parents were in the room next to hers. Often, she would hear them argue. Often she would hear her father shouting at his mother for being the bane of his life because she couldn't bear him a son. Often she would hear something being thrown and broken by her agitated father. And rarely had she heard them actually share a laugh, which was often followed by a silence with the mild squeaking of their four-poster bed.
The days on which they laughed together were the days when silence and mild creaking would set in their room sooner than all the other days when they would be fighting and arguing. The morning next to such nights would have her mother and father looking a little happier, which would make Priya silently pray for more of those smooth days, not knowing that those were the days when her parents were fornicating, trying for their next child, who could possibly be a son.
The last time she had heard her parents laugh through the thin wall that separated their room was the night when she had heard her father ask his mom for "just one more kid" and that whatever it would be, he wouldn't pester her again. It was the night that was filled with perfect silence in her parents' room, and she wondered if her mom agreed or not to have one more baby.
She hoped not because her mother being pregnant meant her father being more cranky, agitated, and miffed at her mother for anything and everything she did, which meant that her father would disappear for days from them and even when he'd come home, ask her to sleep with her mom as he would take her room to sleep alone, which would have her mother crying silently as she would fall into a deep slumber.
But this was the occasion when she got her answers, as she heard her parents talk a little loudly, which was strange considering they were laughing a while ago, which meant their room should have been silent early tonight, and yet she was now hearing them talk loudly and clearly.
"Why in hell do you want to keep the light on?"
"Sarla, our neighbor, said doing it in the dark makes women conceive daughters, and doing it in the light makes women conceive sons... Perhaps that's why they call sons "ghar ka Chirag," "said her mother with a giggle, thinking her father would reciprocate that with a chortle of his own, like he was laughing a while ago.
Her father, however, sounded irritated. "No! No, you've got to switch off that light. "I can't do it with the lights on."
"Why not? Don't you remember when we were newly married and you insisted on doing it in broad daylight too? That light or this light, what is the difference?"
"I said no. That means no!"
"But can't we try it this time, hoping that the myth is true and the light of our lives—our son finds his way to my womb in the light of our room?"
"You... want me... to touch... YOU... in a lighted room! Meera, have you seen yourself in the mirror? Have you seen how out of shape you are after three pregnancies and three miscarriages? You had a petite body when we were newly married; now you are like a huge pumpkin that I'd rather never touch in my life. But I am a man, I have needs, and I also want a son, so I have no other option but to touch you. But to expect me to touch you while I see you is downright disgusting."
"It's not my fault that the pregnancies made my body this way," she heard her mother say in a low voice, which meant she was on the brink of crying.
"Then, whose fault is it, Meera?" roared Mahinder Sood at his timid wife. "Mine? Is it my fault you couldn't keep track of how your body was getting out of shape after your pregnancies—the pregnancies that gave us NOTHING except three dead babies and three good-for-nothing daughters?"
"Mahinder Ji..."
"No! Don't say a word more. Look, if you want me to do it with you, I am sitting here ready. Switch off the light. Come to bed and let's do it. But don't you dare expect me to touch your disgusting body with the lights on. The only reason I am touching you now is in the hope that at least this time you'll give me a son, but if not... I don't think I'll even be able to touch you, let alone see your body, after a fourth round of nonsense pregnancy shit. NOW COME TO BED; I AM READY!"
She saw from her room's window the light of her parents' room going out as she heard their bed creak. She understood from her father's words what they were doing and that her mother had agreed to a fourth child, which made Priya cringe and close her ears with her pillow to shun out the sound of those creaks.
The next morning, she sensed the dynamics between her parents had changed. She could see her mother hanging her head low and being teary-eyed, and her father, being the arrogant man that he was, being nonchalant about her mother's emotional breakdown. A few months later, Sandy was born, and as her father had said, she never heard them laugh together before their room fell into silence as her father finally moved out and found a new woman—who was as petite as he liked and sired him the son he wanted and still managed to look pretty and petite.
Were all men so fickle? Was finding bodily pleasures in a desisted body type all that they searched for? She knew Ram wasn't fickle, but her father had made her believe that, and so did Neeraj.

Flashback 5:
A reminiscent of the day Neeraj broke up with her included him blatantly body shaming her. It matched the words of every other time he had "teasingly" asked her about her body. And the reality came crashing down on her soul—how what her head was telling her was in fact right in comparison to her heart, which had betrayed her. Krish, her best friend, had warned her and asked her so many times to get out of the toxic relationship, and yet she had denied and argued with him in favor of Neeraj every time, still believing in the good that she thought Neeraj had in him. But Neeraj's breaking up with her had shown her the cruel reality of the toxic relationship she chose to ignore.
Whenever they would be alone and Neeraj would try to kiss her, she'd give in happily until his hands would sneak under her shirt and touch her tummy. She would instinctively go stiff, stopping to even respond to his kiss, and that is exactly the reason he cited to break off with her.
In the present moment, having seen Ram revoke himself from their kiss, she was now remembering the words Neeraj told her at the time of their breakup.
"You are a damn cold bitch. Stiff like a voodoo doll and literally good for nothing... You are fat, you have a horribly flabby tummy, and you are what an unattractive woman looks like. You know, Priya, you lack the capability of not just seducing a man but also probably warming his bed. And so I am breaking up with you because no sane man would like to even touch a cold body like yours, let alone accept you as a lifelong partner. I believe you won't ever find a guy for yourself, but if you do, I shall pity him forever for coming across a cold woman like you."
Priya now wondered if Neeraj's words had finally manifested themselves into truth—that she too conformed to Neeraj's idea of her being unresponsive and cold. Was she really not enough?

Her train of thoughts would have carried her through more words and memories of a painful kaleidoscope, but Ram's voice suddenly broke her train of thoughts. And the first words out of his mouth were the exact words that washed over all those thoughts in her head.

"You know, Priya, you are the most gorgeous woman on the face of this earth, and you also know I am incorrigible when it comes to you... "I just can't seem to get enough of you, and yet I shouldn't have done that," said Ram, all worried. But the minute he looked up from his head-hung-low-in-guilt posture to his wife's face, he was surprised to see her face easing out of clear distress and a small smile taking over her face. Why was she smiling when she should have scolded him for being negligent? He was confused.
"Why are you smiling?" asked Ram as he looked up at his wife, who was smiling at his words. Here he was stressed to have hurt her, and there she sat smiling.

But she smiled because he just answered all her worries in a single statement. She wasn't the reason he retrieved from the kiss... She would find out the reason behind it, but the satisfaction was in the fact that he loved and desired her, and nothing could change that. NOTHING.