Satwalekar paused for a moment. He wasn’t sure if he should share such intimate details. But then he continued,
‘Like the black mark around her waist. It’s because of wearing the sari too tight. Look at what she’s done to her body at such a young age. I saw the mark on the very first night we were together. It really dampened my spirits. I can imagine the black band even in the dark. Aren’t parents responsible for ensuring that the girl who is to get married is attractive in all ways? Shouldn’t the mother teach her daughter some manners? How should a newly married woman look? I imagined someone pristine, pure, clean and attractive. Someone who would make you succumb to her beauty the moment you saw her, someone who would make you want to have more and more of her, each part of her body making you gasp for more. After all, it’s the woman’s job to make the man happy and the household pleasant.’
Satwalekar’s voice rose in excitement as he imagined the perfect woman. His fists were clenched, the muscles in his neck were taut, the veins bulged. But then he remembered his current reality and came down crumbling. He was like a deflated balloon. His voice became low. Removing his glasses, he dabbed at his eyes and said,
‘These habits are as difficult to erase as the mark on her waist. No one can help now. My fear is: how do two people whose tastes, ways of life, values and thoughts are so different, stay together? Khandesh, which to me was just another part of the country, has now become an important part of my life.’
‘Your uncle…’
‘Kaka is just an excuse for my fate. I suppose destiny had plans that I wasn’t aware of. But I wonder why destiny chose this path for me.’
His question was incisive, it’s true. And yet, it was pointless.
Satwaleker left. When we had met for the first time, he had taken away my boredom. Now he had taken away my peace of mind.
Life has a way of keeping you busy so that it gives you no time for anything else. Family, children, relatives, travel, illnesses, scarcity, inflation, guests and so on – where’s the time to think of anyone or anything else?
We promise not to forget, but before we know it we get caught up with other things and forget the promise we’d made only a few moments ago. That was the case with Satwalekar too. I completely forgot about him and his problems. When things are going fine, we tend to brush off the problems of others. We say, ‘It happens,’ and move on with our own life.
It was five or six years before I met Satwalekar again. I saw him standing outside Metro Cinema. And the moment I saw him, I recalled our last conversation in great detail. I recalled the evening spent at the Gateway of India, the way he had dabbed at his eyes when I thought he would clean his glasses, and every trivial detail.
I felt guilty.
I’d been quite happy in the intervening years.
What about him?
He seemed happy, though.
He shook my hand and squeezed it gently, affirming his happiness.
‘How are things with you?’
‘Superb!’ he said without any hesitation.
‘What brings you to this part of town?’
‘Metro Cinema.’
‘Alone?’
‘No. My wife will be here any moment now.’
‘Very good.’
‘She’ll drop my daughter at her mama’s* place. I came directly from the office. She should be here soon.’
I saw his wife cross the road as we spoke. She had become obese in these five years. She walked nonchalantly, as if she couldn’t care less about the traffic. It was impossible to cross with the cars honking incessantly, but she walked without bothering to stop even once. The cars had to find their own path.
Her obesity made the sari look like a bedsheet around her. She was jutting out from everywhere. Her hair seemed to have thinned. There were beads of sweat on her upper lip, reminding me of a water bottle taken out from a refrigerator. But she didn’t seem to mind. Her forehead had an oily sheen to it. The sindoor had smudged and streaked.
I looked at Satwalekar.
He was smiling, watching her cross the road.
‘Looks like you managed to catch the train on time,’ he said to his wife.
‘Yes.’
‘I hope Vijaya will be fine at her mama’s place.’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you recognize him?’ he asked, pointing at me.
‘No.’
‘He had come home for dinner once.’
I folded my hands in a namaskar. She just stared at me, and didn’t bother to return my greeting. It was difficult to look at her. She wasn’t a pretty sight. She wore pearl earrings, but one of the pearls had come loose and was threatening to fall off. The mangalsutra too seemed disjointed and a closer look revealed that a piece of the pendant was missing. One of the hooks, unfortunately the middle one, in her blouse had given way, exposing a fair amount of flesh. She could have easily hidden it with her pallu but she seemed least bothered.
But…
Satwalekar, to my surprise, seemed to not care at all.
He was planning to go for a movie with her!
‘You carry on, I’ll join you in a minute,’ he said to her while handing over her ticket.
She looked even more obese as she walked away. The sari was wrapped without any finesse. You could see her petticoat peeping out, giving her a shabby look. You could even make out the dark patch around her waist. A part of her brassiere hung out from one corner of her blouse.
I turned to look at Satwalekar. It was difficult to stand the sight.
He read my thoughts and said,
‘It is what it is, and I have accepted it.’
I was silent. I had no plans to ask him anything, but he was keen to offer an explanation. He said,
‘I thought for a long time before it dawned on me. One day, feeling restless and listless, I
