Thursday, 20 August 2009

Mai butivul vaiphe ( A love story)


This is a re-post.Thankyou....click here to read the earlier comments for it..

I am an alternate day insomniac. That’s right, I am prone to insomnia every alternate nights, but in between my insomnia prone nights I get a night when I sleep like a small baby, a week old baby.

Yesterday night was one of those nights when I slept like a small baby and Today morning out of the fatigue of last night’s small baby sleep I rouse in a bit of perplexity. A very unusual alarm tone on my mobile phone rouse me from my small baby sleep and after few seconds of hard, laborious gawk I found out why. It was a reminder call set by me almost a year back (I am still kanjoos enough: using my old N71), reminding me to wish my office peon Ramalinga raju(obviously name changed) of his wedding anniversary. I have no clue as to why I fed this reminder and the only reminder in my mobile phone, but I think it has something to do with my liking for him a year back (I still like him, but a year back I liked him more, how? I don’t know). When I was critically ill few years back, 3 years back, Ramalinga raju was my absolute help: from getting medicines to getting groceries to consoling my wife to Internationally calling me with his meager pay while I was In India and many more such classic examples of compassion and affection. I owe him a lot, you rock buddy. So, getting back to my reminder alarm, after brushing and my cup of self-made horrible tasting coffee, I called him to wish and he was astonished to get my call.
“Saar, you still remember my wedding anniversary? You are great saar” his way of thanking me. “ No, No Raju, you are very special, how can I forget you, aaah?” My way of saying “you are welcome Raju”.
The whole calling thing and the reminder alarm thing has moved me and has made me wind back few years and ponder over one of those days when Raju revealed me his life history ( or rather his marriage saga).I have added a bit of black pepper and salt and ajinomoto(MSG) to the whole thing but the essence is untouched.

Saar, I was in love with a girl in my home town in tirunelveli in tammil naadu. She was very butivul and I loved her very much saar, too much saar. She also loved me and we spent our time loving each other, saar. She was very educated unlike me and could speak Hinglish very fluently. She studied till plus 2, saar and also cooked very good. Her beauty was very famous in our village and she was the miss universe of our village saar. She was very beautiful and all the young boys of our village gave her that love gaze whenever they saw her, saar.

One day I proposed her and she accepted my proposal. I don’t know how I got the courage but I went to her and told her that I am planning to go to Chennai very soon and would return a very big film actor like Rajani, saar. She looked at me again, on my face and saar, I don’t know why or how, she gave me that shy glazed grin and said she too loves me. I was on top of the world. She wore nice colored paavadai(long skirt) and blouse ( top) and I loved the way she looked. I promised her that one day we would have bungalow in Chennai and cars etc, and she told me that she loved me very much, like how Sreedevi loved Kamal haasan in @#$*&%^ (I forgot the name) .

Then one day I left our village and traveled to Chennai with my Rajanikaant dreams. Before leaving I promised her that I would return with all things I told her before and she promised me that she would wait. I struggled a lot, saar, Full 3 years, finally I realized that its not so easy to become Rajanikanth. I got a job in one Nair’s tea stall(your people saar).Finally after 4 years I decided to go back to my village and help my father with his farming. When I reached my village, saar, everyone greeted me well, my father and mother were very happy. It was then that I inquired about the girl and one of my friends told me that she ran away with another boy of my village to Chennai. I was heartbroken saar. I couldn’t do anything, she was my love and only love, saar.

I went back to Chennai, because It felt very depressing in my village. Everything reminded me of her, saar, and then I came here as a general cleaner. During one of my annual vacations, I got married sir. Not because I wanted to marry. My mother told me that if I want to see her live longer, I should agree for marriage .Finally, reluctantly I married, saar. She was, Meenaxi, our mama’s daughter. I didn’t love her saar. She was not beautiful at all, like the other girl, and didn’t study also. What to do, I listened to my mother and married her. Our marriage ceremony was very tiring saar: shaking hands with so many stupid, unknown people, faking smile for the full day, etc, saar, very tiring. Then night came and my mother asked me to take some Cadbury chocolates with me to the bedroom. She gave me some fruits also: banana, oranges, and apples etc, and tried to decorate my room with flowers. By that time I hated flowers also, saar, they smelled like rotten vegetables.

At around eleven she came to my room, fully dressed in her bridal silk sari saar, if my memory is correct it was a dark maroon sari and all her gold ornaments also, saar. She locked the door, came inside and sat next to me, as if it’s part of a pre planned agenda, saar and showed a tumbler of milk saar, signaling me to drink. From the first look, I hated her. She gave me an I- am- tired- don’t-do-anything-to-me-you-lusty-idiot look saar, and I cursed my bad luck for marrying her, saar.

I know saar, a husband and wife should talk and make each other understand. I have not studied, but I have seen the world. I tried to talk to my wife on the first night but her horror filled look on me made me forget everything I planned to say to her, saar. She looked at me as if she was a rat caught in a trap and I felt so miserable looking at her, saar. She somehow asked me stammering-“Should I switch off the light?” I nodded my head sideways for approval, what do I do? Then we slept. I tried to touch her saar, but she clutch her self so tightly, what do I tell you, like cooked shrimps? She covered her whole body with the bed sheet such that she looked like some Egyptian mummy, saar. I thought of letting her sleep, poor girl, may be she is tired after the hard marriage ceremonies.

May be half an hour passed saar, I couldn’t sleep. How can a husband and wife just sleep like this on the most important day of their marriage? You tell me saar. I got up and switched on the light and found that she too didn’t sleep. She removed the bed sheet from her face to look at me, may be thinking: “What stupid fellow, is he mad?” I came back to the bed and asked her to get up from her sleep. She reluctantly got up, her face frowned and hair completely unruly. Then I talked saar, made her understand what marriage is all about. She nodded her head sideways several times, like a student when asked by teacher. I was sure she didn’t understand anything what I said. Then she asked me if she can sleep again. I let her sleep, I give-up saar, no use I thought. Only if I would have married that other girl, she was very intelligent and also beautiful. God is so unfair, so I thought on my marriage night, saar.

I came back here after a month of vacation and saar, after few months I brought her here. She cried too much while leaving her family and the airport was so much crowded may be because half of our village came to send us off. She cried for the next 2 days saar. Then finally I told her to shut down her cry or I would send her back. She stopped crying all of a sudden, like some crying child suddenly finds a toy to play. She started cooking,, saar, ohh, what do I tell you, horrible is not the word.

One day I came from office, fully tired and sweating, saar and also very hungry. She served me rice and curry which she cooked for lunch, saar, what do I tell you, rice was like, similar to dosa batter. Fully paste like saar, like curd rice… curry had so much salt and fully raw masala. I almost vomited when I tasted it saar. It was so bad. I got very angry and I threw the food to the dustbin and threw the plate at her, making a loud noise. She was shocked and started crying. She sobbingly told me: “Sorry, I don’t know to cook, very sorry. This is my first time. I will learn. Sorry, and cook for you good meal.iam very sorry.” I felt very bad, poor girl I thought. I too have a heart saar. I hugged her saar and for the first time, she also hugged me. Unknown to her, I also had tears in my eyes, but I wiped it before she could see them, saar.

Then again, similar small things for which I shouted at her. She put big round bindis on her forehead saar, I hated it, more because all the Arabs and Europeans stared at her, as if she is from some other planet. Once one European guy stopped her and asked her if he could take her photograph. I came in between and refused , My wife felt very bad, almost she was crying, saar. I also told my wife to not wear sari, those thick silk saris with all sorts of paintings saar. Everyone stared at her as if she was some cartoon character in Disney movies.

I felt very bad to see my wife an object of exhibition. She didn’t know what to wear. I bought her jeans and some tops from here saar, but she refused to wear them. She told me she felt very awkward wearing them. Then again I shouted her saying; She is very backward in her thinking. I warned her that if she doesn’t change, I would send her back to her village in Taamil Naadu. Reluctantly she changed saar. She wore jeans and tops, and I must she say she looked more beautiful.

Three months passed. She improved her cooking, became less shy, and started wearing better clothes, started to speak to me more, saar. But saar, in these three months I shout her too much. I shout at her for her cooking, her dress sense (I told her she looked like some seventy year old woman when she wears sari), her introvert nature and she cried numerous times. Though I shout at her but saar, I didn’t shout at her for just the sake. I shouted at her so that she become smarter, saar. Once I even told her, when I lost my control, that she is the worst woman I have seen in my life. I told her about the other girl and told her that if I would have married her I would have been much happier. She cried too much saar, sometimes even in sleep.

One night I suddenly woke up and saw my wife sitting on the bed and her face covered by her hands, saar. I got up and pulled her hands and saw she was crying, crying very badly saar, entirely in tears. I hugged her and I apologized. I made her sleep, like a baby saar, poor girl.

Then one day, saar, after around six months later, while I was on my bicycle, coming to work, I had an accident. You know the roads here, saar, cars are so fast and only bicycles are allowed through the pedestrian lane. I was hit by a car and it threw me several meters into the air and finally when I landed on earth I could almost see stars in the day time, saar. Suddenly, I could feel something flowing in my head, like someone pouring warm water over my head, then a sharp pain in my legs and then it all went blank, saar. Similar to when you switch off the TV with the remote, like that saar. Complete black and blank.

Next, all that I remember is waking up suddenly with a pain in my right hand. The nurse giving me some injection, saar. My whole body was in plaster and I looked like some zombie, Saar (paiy in Tamil).I spread my eyes and vision and then I see my wife standing beside me, and what do I tell you about her, she looked in very bad condition saar. She looked like someone who had not slept for weeks, black circles around her eyes and hair full disordered. I tried to get up, to speak to her and the nurse came running asking me to Shut up and sleep, saar. I signal with eyes, with my tears and she came near me. I couldn’t speak saar, my whole face was plastered, literally like a zombie saar, and only my eyes, a hole for breathing and another hole for my mouth saar. I tried to say a lot of things to her, mostly sorry, saar, for making her suffer like this. I didn’t mind my condition, I cared only for her, my poor little wife saar, unknown and without any knowledge of the world. But then came Doctor, a European doctor and he smiled at my wife saar. My wife also smiled at him, like she knew him for very long, like friends, saar. Doctor told her something in broken English and she nodded, I couldn’t understand anything saar. But I was totally shocked to see my wife understand. Then the doctor wrote something on a piece of paper and gave to my wife and finally he left saar. She signaled me that she would come now and she left, coming back after 5 minutes with medicines saar. I watch all these things with very much shock saar, very much shock. My eyes fully wet, uncontrollable for me saar, the woman I considered stupid was speaking to a European doctor, which I myself couldn’t, saar. That too with my so much of worldly experience, going to Chennai, years of life in Dubai, nothing saar, nothing.

Then the nurse left and my wife sat next to me on the bed. I felt warmth fill my entire body, as if suddenly I am put a thick woolen blanket around me during a very chilly winter night, saar. i felt like that saar.I felt so much loved saar, like someone is wiping my tears with her hands. I can’t tell you saar. ( Ramalinga raju become very emotional and I felt he would breakdown any moment. I asked him to take a break and wash himself. After about 10 minutes, after making me a tea and getting himself one, he continued) After about a week more in the hospital I was discharged saar. My wife and me went home saar, she called a taxi and the Indian Driver helped my wife to carry me, I walked on six legs,saar, extra two of my wife and two of the driver’s saar. The driver also helped me climb the stairs of my apartment and my wife thanked him saar. “Thank you anna,” she said to the driver saar. Like she knew him for long and he was her elder brother. I was seeing a new face of my wife saar, a completely new face. I tell you a very much shocking face saar.

I was put on bed and I asked my wife to tell me about the hospital things and how she managed. She told me that she would tell me later and now only to concentrate on my health. But I was very curious saar, I didn’t leave her, and she told me everything: She got a call in the evening from the police saying Raju had met with an accident, and the police sent her a car, saar. The police had admitted me into the hospital and my wife was taken to hospital by them itself saar, so good police saar, not like our country saar. They helped my wife with documents and papers. My wife told me she was full crying when she reach hospital and saw me completely in blood saar, fully covered with bandages, still blood oozing from my body saar. She felt like fainting saar, she told me that. My poor wife, saar.

Then my wife told me that she suddenly decided that there is no use crying. She decided to call her family in Tamil nadu, I don’t know how she called home, saar, I never teach her anything. I don’t know how she managed. Her Parents told her about one Muttuswamy, who also work in Dubai, who arranged some money for her saar. With that money she managed so much. I was shocked when she told me that I was unconscious for a week, saar, and during these whole week, she didn’t sleep saar. How? I don’t know saar.If I don’t sleep for one day, saar, I feel as if I am going to faint, saar. So much, saar. But she didn’t sleep for a week. Amazing, saar. She talked to the nurse and doctor also, all Filipino nurses saar.I don’t know how. She tells me, emotions have no language, saar. She is so wise, I didn’t know, saar, I didn’t know, saar. She talked something and they understood, saar, that’s all, but how only she and those nurses know. I don’t know what it is an emotion but as she tells, emotions have no language saar.

Again for 2 weeks I was completely in bed and she feed me, saar, she also bath me and change my cloths. Completely took care of me, saar, I would say same my mother, if not more, saar. I was fully alone in bed, saar, all alone, Can’t even piss on my own. I felt miserable. I would wait for her to come see me, most of the time she would be in kitchen cooking, saar.

Her cooking improved I don’t know how, she told me I was lying. She told me I have changed that’s why I find her cooking good now, suddenly and she thought she didn’t improve much. I don’t know saar, but the food was better. She would take rice and mash it with fingers and make balls and then feed me. So tasty, saar. I noticed that she was beautiful, saar, I don’t know what happened, her round bindis were very beautiful, saar. I don’t know why I hated it before. I told her to put it always, so nice it looked on her. But she laughed, saying, “I have gone crazy after the accident”. Did I really, I don’t know, saar. I don’t know.

I loved her very much, saar, very much. I can’t tell you in my words. How much I don’t know, that much, saar. I would wait for her to come to me on the bed and once she comes I would ask her to sit for some more time. She told me stories about her childhood and her life. She very loving girl, saar. After two weeks I was alright.

My doctor’s checkup was after two weeks and I went with my wife to the hospital. The doctor told me that I was lucky to have survived. I had some head injuries and only few broken bones on my feet, Lucky to have escaped without much injury to my back. He added that may be it was because of the love and prayers of my wife. I looked at her, saar, and she gave me back a smile.

We travelled back home from the hospital and I was very happy to hear about my health from the doctor. I decide to take my wife out for dinner that day and during dinner I thought, I would thank her, for everything she did to me and my life. I also plan to tell her that I loved her too very much, saar. Like that girl told me how Sreedevi loved Kamal haasan in one of the movies. We went to the best restaurant saar, Kairali restaurant, your peoples restaurant, mallu food, saar. After we order food and the waiter go away, I suddenly caught her hand. She was shocked to feel this action, saar, and I felt like laughing. I held her hand very tight, not too much tight but tight, and I told her how much I loved her.Like how in movies you see? Same like that, saar.

I told her that I am in so much of debt to her for everything she did to me and I am totally in love with her. I also told her that she was very beautiful and the most beautiful woman I have seen in my life, saar. Suddenly, I saw tear coming from her eyes, saar, and she smiled, But a different smile.

Then she asked me if I would ever love her the way I loved the other girl and she burst in to tears. I was shocked, a complete shock. I had totally forgotten about the other girl, but she didn’t. I asked her to pardon me for everything and to forget about the other girl I mentioned,only because of my anger and frustrations before. She told me everything is OK, she too loved me too much, but in her life she can never forget what I said to her, never, Even if she wanted to. She would always believe that I loved her only second to that girl I mentioned before, saar. Saar you have seen the world, you are educated, tell me, is there anything I can do to make her completely forget what I told her. I can do anything for it, saar, even all my money I can spend, but I want her to forget what I told her, About the girl. I love her more than that girl, a thousand times more, saar. But will I be ever able to convince my wife again? Tell me, saar?

I nodded my head, partly out of sympathy for Ramalinga raaju and partly for my approval and appreciation for his wife, The woman in her. They are all the same, no matter how much they call themselves savvy, sophisticated and contemporary. They are all the same. They would continue to tease men, men who ponder over them and make an attempt to understand and appreciate them. The subtlest yet the most complex puzzle of nature called “woman”.

P.S: I wrote this to impress my wife on the Valentines day. It need not be true- about women.:))

24 comments:

Santanu Sinha Chaudhuri said...

A lovely real-life story, Manoj. There are so many stories around us, every person we meet is like an ocean. It is nice that some people like you have the inclination and the patience to read those stories and share them with others. Thanks.

ZB said...

Thanks Dada. but This is 100% made-up story(fiction) and not anyone's story that i shared here. :)

Babli said...

I enjoyed reading the beautiful story written by you. Your each and every post is different and very interesting.

Swatantra said...

Very nice story, imaginative... cute..

Choco said...

Come to think of it that was a long story..But I never realized that while reading it... :)
Is this a true story? And if true he married his cousin....Isn't that incest???

ZB said...

@Babli: Thanks. You always encourage me. I cant thank enough dear. :)

@Swatantra: Thanks buddy. That was long story, thanks for reading.

@Choco: Yea, its a long story... but fast paced..you can rest your brains and still read it.

@Incest? Common, the same practice is happening in Kerala called marumakathayam since ages. In Nair/Menon families, one always married their Uncles(mama) 's daughter. Not now though.....It still is practised.....

It isnt a true story.....Thanks choco.:)

The abstract scientist said...

I have read it previously..saaar.

Aparna said...

IT is strange that something that is a taboo in one culture can be so acceptable in another. Getting married to a relative is a strict no-no in Bengal and also in some other parts of India.

Good story. Was your wife impressed on Valentine"s Day?

I saw an award being prominently displayed on your blog. Congrats!

ZB said...

@Abstract: Yea Buddy. Thanks for dropping.:)

@Aparna: It was the practise before. but not anymore.....men could marry their mama's ( fathers sisters daughter) daughter. Cant call it incest....This practise is in so many societies....Hindus practiced it since long time, jews practiced it and even in Buddhism it was prevailing. Thanks :)

ZB said...

@All: Grrrrrrrrr the story isnt about incest or mama's daughter marriage.Please....Their are larger pressing issues. Deal with that please. Hhehe :)

kavita said...

ZB...its wonderful that you wrote such a beautiful story for your wife on Valentine's Day.I know its a fiction but like him i too wish that she sees that he loves her truly...love is never more or it is never less....your story touched my heart.
Congratulations on your brand new award...

Choco said...

I see the light now...Thank you for helping me break through my blogger's block :)

ZB said...

@Choco: Oh you saw light reading this story? Ahem, i am flying in thin air like H2 balloon.hehe

But on a serious note, i went through very strong emotions writing this. I cried, i was listening to some hindi song(old) and that added to a sense of melancholy. I can be very silly and crazy while writing posts...especially stories.Thanks..i am glad that your block is over..BTW, you were quite good with the block. :)

ZB said...

@Kavita: Thanks a ton. I am glad that this story touched a chord.i was wondering why nobody is finding it touchy ?I was very touchy writing it. It sounds funny or humorous but its a very emotional story. Thanks :)

@Choco: Thanks buddy....At last :)

sujata said...

What a narration!! I could see the man and hear his accented speech. but what came out most was the sincerity and the purity of his love. I know about the inter family marriages in south, Many of my tamilian friends are married to their own mama, I used to be very surprised and tell them,"it must be great to have your own grandma as your MIL" They never agreed though! As I keep saying..nothing is wrong or right..its just how we see things..loved the story and congrats on the award!!

Santanu Sinha Chaudhuri said...

The way you narrated it, I felt I was hearing a true story. Since it is not, it bears a greater stamp of authority of the writer. Congrats!

The Panorama said...

Very nice story, ZB. I remember reading i t before though am not sure I left a comment.
Enjoyed reading it again. Good work:)

Gayathri said...

Of all the sophisticated modern love stories you framed,this was the best..not coz of the narration,there were better ones before..but the emotions were pure in this,.
You know,it is sometimes really tough to forget certain words..the comparisons you make that undermines your efforts,despite being ready to give up your life for that..the words keep pricking,even when you try asserting yourself that it's just a hollow brooding..
And,i don't understand why men call women mysterious..
Yday,a friend was saying,"You know,you women are manipulative..when a guy says,fat women are cute,the next question is,'so am i fat?'..and thats when the guy is fucked up..he says no means she aint cute..he says yes implies,he noticed she's fat!!"..
lol..so thats ur perceptions abt ladies huh??

ZB said...

@Sujata: Thanks. You are right, its all the way we see things. This practice was there before in all societies.Even probably in Bengal.It doesn't happen presently. But even it were to happen , there's nothing wrong.
One dont have to get SHOCKED by it. hehe, one has to grow up....watch National geographic channel often, (Pun) and read history books. One will never get SHOCKED if one acquaint oneself with a bit of History. :))

ZB said...

@Santanu Da: Thanks, i am glad that you liked and a praise frm you means a lot for me. :)

@panorama: Thanks buddy:)

@Gay3:Thanks. And THANKS...i was sad and hurt that people read it and all they found was **marriage between the family members**.Irrelevant comments can make you sad sometimes.And i was going to delete this post.

I am happy that you found it the best, its my favorite too. I am more satisfied writing this than any post of mine. I thought the story had STUFF.and not just blind fancy words.

No, i dont think women are complicated. It was just in the story, in the context of Valentines day and impressing my wife. Women are as simple as men. TC:)

Neha said...

ROFL...ZB, this time, the humour behind this post left me cracking than the emotional part touched me..just loved the way u narrated it..rocking, too good, one of ur best ones etc etc and all my previous (good) comments apply here too....:)

Nazish Rahman said...

Its a nice post...i really liked it!!! U really hav a talent man...i think u should write a book because otherwise u r wasting your talent n work.
Keep writing!!!

Thanks Neha for forwarding me this link of your post!!

R. Ramesh said...

The subtlest yet the most complex puzzle of nature called “woman”.

u said it...and hey buddy your valentine day "pataav" plan worked it seems...

Getsy Jenita said...

Your story brought a tear.I never thought it would make me feel so moved by the time I finished readin it .. Love's inert feeelings well defined .. Kudos :)