The Chance.

The Chance

“So that was the end of their marriage.” finished Raj, beaming with completeness and satisfaction. That end was not what he wanted, but that only felt sensible. He walked over to his old oak desk, his lean body casting a tall shadow on his newly purchased Kashmiri red carpet, he set up his book and the daily newspapers. He took a seat in his well cushioned chair, behind his desk. The room was illuminated by the sunlight that gushed through the French windows. His silver trends of hair shimmering with the light as he looked at Nisha, who let her dark eyes, stare. He smiled at her, thinking that she was looking at him. But she stared beyond him, beyond the beautifully framed windows, beyond the glowing sun, beyond her vision at the objects.

“You alright?” asked Raj when she didn’t respond to his smile.

“Yes, I am.” she whispered twirling her hair slowly between her long fingers.

He sat back in his chair, crossed his leg below the desk wondering what she’d be thinking. She was so dreamy when she set off to think. Her round dusky face complimenting her wave hair cut. Her small lips, half open always, as if they were yearning to say something. He waited patiently for her, though she always had a vivid contradiction to his opinions which made her more desirable, to him.

On his first day with her, inside the same timid room, a year before, he knew immediately that she was different.

“Wow, French windows!” she exclaimed as soon as she entered his neatly spaced room. “It’s a rare thing to see anywhere. Did you remodel your flat?” she asked her tutor, who was taken aback by his young pupil’s remark. “You know, this thing has become a vintage. This is such a beautiful view. Away from all the hustles.” she said winking at him. “Your little den, I love it in here.”

“I didn’t know anyone would have a liking to these windows. I did have to break the wall.” he said, shaking his head in mocking disappointment.

“Ah, you must be lucky. They didn’t file a complaint. Did they?” she asked with the same mocking shock.

“Lucky? Maybe.” he didn’t want to discuss his disbelief in luck. “They didn’t. Because I paid them.” He said nodding his head.

“Every one of them?”

“That.” He continued by squinting his eyes “sounds very unlucky, just the manger.”

“Ah. Him!” she said, smiling with her full mouth.

. He always will remember that smile, he never knew why she smiled though.

The creek sound of the rotating blades of the fan brought him back to the present. She was now, looking at him with folded hands.

“So?” she asked.

He raised his brow, surely that’s not what he was expecting from her. An appreciation of some sort maybe. After all it was Victoria’s story, she must have something to say. He titled his head hiding away his disappointment. “So, that’s it.” He said clapping his hands.

“Do you approve of this?” she asked smiling.

“Approve of what?”

“The end, of course” Nisha said as a matter of fact. “What else?”

“Well.” He chuckled, “Yes, I do! Why?”

Nisha shook her head in disappointment, “I don’t understand it.” She sighed. “I mean, he was her husband. How can she leave him just because his nose wasn’t twitching anymore?”

Raj laughed uncontrollably hearing her accusations. He knew that she wasn’t too smart. But he never thought her to be so silly. Looking her nose twitch in anger, he stopped his outburst and thought of a way on how to make the young girl understand the conflicts of relationships.

“I know what you are thinking.” she said, looking down at the shady carpet.

“You do?”

“I’m not being silly.” she said sternly. “I know, it was never about the twitching.

“You got that right. What do you think it is then?”

“It’s about love.” the last word a whisper. “It always was.” she said lifting her head, eyes clouded with doubts “It’s also about giving chances. She didn’t give him that. Did she? They married but there was no love. Okay, I get it. It was only about what she wanted. What about what he wants? May be he was just tired of being a Lapin. Maybe it was time for her to be an adult, grow up. You know? It’s not that he wouldn’t give her the love she wanted. He was just being practical. And she didn’t give him the chance. She just took off.” she said as she stared again into the horizon.

He looked at her with concern, he was not sure if he had to comment on that.

“As you said, there was no love. And there will never be. She knew that. And she knew that she had to end it.” He said, choosing his words with care.

“Bull shit. They are looking for a spark. ” she said simply.

“And you think..” he removed his specs and swung it carelessly between his thumb and his fore-finger.

“Even a match stick got spark. You think that’s romantic? Worthy?” she interrupted.

“If it’s lighting a candle or a cigarette, it is.”

She rolled her eyes. He hid his urge to smoke, he hated her for reminding him of match sticks and spark. He got up, placed his specs on the desk, it was getting heavy. His hands shrived, his mind spinning uneven thoughts, and his heart, too heavy to bear.

“If you ask me whether I will leave my boyfriend, for something silly like this. I won’t.”

“Why?” He walked towards her and sat on the desk.

“Because it’s silly. Why else? I would give him a chance, tell him that I’d like him to twitch his nose.” she giggled.

“What if he doesn’t?”

“I’ll change that quality in me. He wouldn’t be my boyfriend if I didn’t love him. And nothing’s going to hurt if you do small compromises. If you’re in love you’ll be bound to make compromises. You can’t ignore them. Or leave them unnoticed.” she smiled

At that time, he took her face in his palms and kissed her shocked lips, inhaling her warmth. Her eyes were fully shut, he wondered if it was of disgust. But, he didn’t let go off of her. She was his only spark and the kiss his only puff. He wouldn’t let go of the ecstasy that was brought on his way after a weeklong of patience. He didn’t want that to happen, but he had no choice. He let his lips canvas hers.

He now sat lonely in his room. Replaying the scenes, second by second. She didn’t struggle. She didn’t enjoy it either. As soon as he loosened his grip, she took flight. More like an elegant flight. She did not wish him the usual good night. He stared at his bright screen.

“You’re home soon. How was the class?” enquired a middle-aged women, who was seated in a sofa holding the TV remote.

“I’ve got a headache, mom. And reduce the volume.” Nisha said and closed the door behind her.

Unlike Raj’s, Nisha’s room was lighted by artificial incandescent bulbs. She lay on her bed, trying to forget the explosion happened in her department of trust. The more she shifted on her bed, the more she breathed the smoke of the debris. She got up and walked towards her study table. Opening the glass door of her window, she took seat in the chair, setting her laptop in front of her.

You have received a mail. Her laptop blinked.

TO: Nisha Karan.

From: Raj Metha.

Sub:

I’m really sorry. It was a mistake. Forgive me.

She read this over and over again. Mistake?

“Are you alright?” her mother asked, cracking up the door a little.

“Come in, mom.”

“You scare me a lot, Nisha.”

“Mom, seriously?” she laughed.

“You and your manners. Girls nowadays.” said her mother and got up to leave.

“And mom.” she started.

“Yes.”

“My tutor.”

“Yes, what’s with him?”

“I think we need to change him.”

“And why is that?” she turned towards her daughter, shocked.

“He’s too old, now. He doesn’t know what he’s doing half the time.”

“Ah, that poor man. He is slipping.” said her mother, worriedly.

Nisha looked at her mother saying nothing.

“ I’ll talk to your father, then. Now, you close that laptop of yours and get some sleep.”