Twist of fate

A sudden hush fell over the room as she walked in. It was filled with people- neighbours, friends, family- people she hadn’t seen in years. Why were they bothered now? Why couldn’t they all leave her alone- she wanted to be alone. She wanted to think. How could her life change so much in just a day. Everything was so perfect just twenty four hours ago. Happily married with a husband who loved her very much she never thought it could happen to her, but then fate struck. And now she was all alone in room full of strangers. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am about Manav, he was such a nice man” said someone. She looked up- it was the neighbour next door. “Fate can be so cruel” someone else spoke up. “Things like these make you wonder whether god really exists” another voice from across the room. She didn’t want them here…..they were making things worse for her. She just wanted to be alone, alone with manav….the man she loved, the man she would never see again.
Their marriage had caused quite a scandal in her family. She was from a Brahmin family and he was not, so naturally her parents opposed. They tried all they could- stopped her studies, tried to marry her off to someone else, sent Manav to jail, but in the end love prevailed. She eloped, and married her love. Her parents said this marriage was doomed, pronounced her a disgrace to the family name and cut off all ties with her. It didn’t matter- she had Manav and she needed no one else. They moved into a small flat and started their new life.

The cremation was over. But the people still kept pouring in. Everyone seemed to lament the loss of a great friend, but there was no pain in their eyes, only pity. Pity for a young widow. Even her parents were there. They had finally forgiven her. Perhaps they hoped they could now get her married to a suitable boy and undo the damage she had done to the family honour. She couldn’t care less, she hadn’t forgiven them for not being there when she needed them, when Manav needed them.
Manav had no family, no one to turn to during hard times and he needed someone. They were in deep financial troubles. He had no job and they had run up huge debts. She had no choice- she had to ask her father for money. He refused pointblank. Didn’t even acknowledge her. She pleaded, begged for help but he refused. That day her pride was bruised .She left and never looked back. And then fate smiled on them. Manav found a job and they started afresh.

People were leaving. They paid their last respect in front of a large photograph of Manav and with bowed heads left the house. They had performed their duties and now they could go back to their own lives. Her mother was walking towards her. She did not want to face her right now. She got up from where she was sitting and headed towards the terrace. From here she could see the garden and the street. She often waited here for Manav to arrive back home from work. She would rush down to greet him as soon as she saw his car round the street. She loved the smile he gave her when he saw her rushing out of the house to meet him. And then they used to sit for hours in the garden and talk about all mundane things, not listening really, but just enjoying each others company. Manav had done really well in the new job. They had everything they could have asked for; a nice home, a car, and all the luxuries they wanted. Everything was perfect except for one dark spot. They had no children.

The news came as a shock when her doctor first broke it to her “Sneha, you can never become a mother.” It was tough for both of them. She had always envisaged a life with her husband and children and this one line had shattered her dream, but she took it in her stride. It took time but she finally accepted it, after all she still had Manav. But he was broken by this news. An orphan, he had no blood relations. For him having children was more than being a father, it was having a sense of belonging, of sharing an identity. And almost overnight he changed. From the carefree, jovial person he was into a short tempered, rude man. With no other source to vent out his frustration, she often had to bear the brunt of his anger. It hurt a lot when he shouted at her or fought with her, but she tried to be understanding. She knew how important having a child was for him and she silently bore all his fury. And then one day he hit her.

“What are you going to here all alone?” it was her mother. “You have no job, no children, nothing. What is the point of staying here? Listen to me and come back with us to your home.” Her parents had been trying to convince her to move back with them ever since they had arrived. Not a word of condolence or strength, just arguments. They still didn’t understand. She would not come back, she could not. How could she leave the house that held so many memories of Manav. She did not reply to her mother’s question, just gazed in the direction of the lobby where a picture of Manav was placed adorned with flowers….the only thing that was left of him in the house except for the memories. She would have to change the flowers, the roses were drying up.

Roses…..her favourite flowers. He used to bring a bouquet of roses for her every Saturday. He had finally accepted the truth as gods will and had reverted back to his old self. Perhaps he felt a little guilty for his behavior because he showered her with gifts, flowers and attention. He also started working late. Perhaps he thought that work would take off his mind from his pain. She never complained. For her the only thing that mattered was his happiness and besides she had got back her old Manav.

Her parents were leaving. Her mother was still begging her to come with them but she couldn’t be persuaded. They left empty handed. She finally had the house to herself. She could now sit in peace and quiet and plan for her future. She had to move on, she knew it and yet it was very hard to imagine a life without him. She revisited their last moments together again and again. She could still see his body, with his head smashed, lying in a pool of blood. The thought nauseated her. Manav was dead. She could not change this fact. And yet she knew that things could have been different. He needn’t have died such a painful and violent death. It was the least she could have done for him after all these years. Perhaps poison would have been better.