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Keep driving
Bhargavi
Jun 07
|14:22
Last Updated on Wed, 11 Aug 2010 13:17
I felt him gazing at me steadily, there was something new about the way he looked at me. That’s when I realized that we were looking into each other’s eyes after ages. .... ...
“Can we go out somewhere today? 8 p.m, I will pick you” 
read the mail from him, all the content stuffed in the “subject” column. I was too lazy to try and make sense of it. I mean we, me and him, are a couple, all right. But that is all between us. I let him be and he lets me be. We believe in space, too much space. The best thing about us as a couple is that, we are no stalkers of each other’s life, anymore.
At some point right after our marriage, we would yearn for our time together, for us quantity and quality didn’t really make much difference. His presence meant quality to me, and mine to him. We would ensure that our petty differences are put aside, and we talk about the silliest matters on earth and yes, we would travel. No matter how hectic the week had been, no matter how much the body craved for deep sleep, the trip would be on. One of us would drive and the other comment on how much the roads of Chennai have improved.
The change had been slow and beyond suspicion. It was a guest once, then my tummy ache, his headache, my headache and his tummy ache and then we realized we had too many aches to nurse and travelling would only make it worse. This, applied to only “our” travels, I still had to meet a friend a night’s travel away and he took off 15 days to be with a childhood friend I never knew existed. We stayed in different homes and met up when we could. Actually, I was almost relieved when we I had a transfer to Mumbai, but as luck would have it, he had to shift to Goa.
No, that was not the end. We discussed on how we were going to keep each other updated only yesterday. We had decided on calling each other at regular intervals. Then the calls had to be messages, we had to cut costs, you see and then mails, we couldn’t afford to call, damn. It did not have too much of impact, only because we really did not have anything to speak. This is so much different from not-having-to-speak-because-everything-is-understood.
I wantonly missed my van and took an a.c bus to home. I unwrapped the gifts from my colleagues, read the farewell notes and put them back in their respective packages. I thought of the milling crowds of Mumbai, the sleaze I always associate with it, the sheer unstoppability of the city and the beach, of course. I compared them with the temple strewn city that Chennai is, its coffee flavored people, the conservative culture and yes, the Marina Beach. My mind wandered back to the single line mail from Dananjay with that. Only a year back we had met each other in the Marina stealthily. We were betrothed, but we found more charm in doing things without our parents’ knowledge, because that is what the lovers claim they do, we had discussed. I distinctly remember refusing his offer to drop me home in his bike, reasoning with just two words “after marriage.” I guess it impressed him then, being the epitome of “Tamizh woman.”
read the mail from him, all the content stuffed in the “subject” column. I was too lazy to try and make sense of it. I mean we, me and him, are a couple, all right. But that is all between us. I let him be and he lets me be. We believe in space, too much space. The best thing about us as a couple is that, we are no stalkers of each other’s life, anymore.At some point right after our marriage, we would yearn for our time together, for us quantity and quality didn’t really make much difference. His presence meant quality to me, and mine to him. We would ensure that our petty differences are put aside, and we talk about the silliest matters on earth and yes, we would travel. No matter how hectic the week had been, no matter how much the body craved for deep sleep, the trip would be on. One of us would drive and the other comment on how much the roads of Chennai have improved.
The change had been slow and beyond suspicion. It was a guest once, then my tummy ache, his headache, my headache and his tummy ache and then we realized we had too many aches to nurse and travelling would only make it worse. This, applied to only “our” travels, I still had to meet a friend a night’s travel away and he took off 15 days to be with a childhood friend I never knew existed. We stayed in different homes and met up when we could. Actually, I was almost relieved when we I had a transfer to Mumbai, but as luck would have it, he had to shift to Goa.
No, that was not the end. We discussed on how we were going to keep each other updated only yesterday. We had decided on calling each other at regular intervals. Then the calls had to be messages, we had to cut costs, you see and then mails, we couldn’t afford to call, damn. It did not have too much of impact, only because we really did not have anything to speak. This is so much different from not-having-to-speak-because-everything-is-understood.
I wantonly missed my van and took an a.c bus to home. I unwrapped the gifts from my colleagues, read the farewell notes and put them back in their respective packages. I thought of the milling crowds of Mumbai, the sleaze I always associate with it, the sheer unstoppability of the city and the beach, of course. I compared them with the temple strewn city that Chennai is, its coffee flavored people, the conservative culture and yes, the Marina Beach. My mind wandered back to the single line mail from Dananjay with that. Only a year back we had met each other in the Marina stealthily. We were betrothed, but we found more charm in doing things without our parents’ knowledge, because that is what the lovers claim they do, we had discussed. I distinctly remember refusing his offer to drop me home in his bike, reasoning with just two words “after marriage.” I guess it impressed him then, being the epitome of “Tamizh woman.”
It was getting too cold inside the bus and I tried adjusting my cooler’s knob. A pair of love birds sitting ahead of my seat seemed to have found a better way to keep the cold at bay, interlocking their arms to inspire vacuum. I quickly turned away at the sight of it.
I stepped inside my flat, he was already there, smiling, with a cup of hot chai ready for both. As I was picking the magazine, I felt him gazing at me steadily, there was something new about the way he looked at me. That’s when I realized that we were looking into each other’s eyes after ages. We sipped the coffee silently. He inserted the key into the car. I eyed the keychain, it read “DJ.”
“Took the house key from Usha Aunty” he said.
“Figured it out. What’s the plan Dan?”
“Let us travel Janu…somewhere, far far away.”
“Hmmm, what happened?”
“Nothing, I want some peace.”
“So, suggest some place which sells two peaces for 1 Rupee.” I fired a shot.
“Why two, you need it too? His turn now.
“I haven’t seen you in two months, and your calls have been as terse and they can be. Yes, I need peace” I said it as tonelessly as possible, but my eyes gave away. He let a whole minute pass.
“It is 2 months and 23 days and 57 minutes Ashu, it proves, you need a calculator first.”
“I need that racket, you need some whacking,” it was me.
“You need a psychiatrist then” he smiled.
“I still need to hate you.” I mocked anger.
“You need divorce then.” He had no mercy, either.
“All right, I need you.” I gave up.
“All right, you need to travel with me then” He ordered and whispered in my ear, “Why did you need me anyway?”
“I need a driver.” I laughed as he kissed me. “Keep driving” I giggled as I held his hand in mine.
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Thanks a lot!
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