Copyright© Harsh Jain 2020
It’s late in the night, around 11 pm. Dogs are roaming around, barking in the streets of Mumbai. It gets dark earlier in the winters than it used to. Not because the sun sets early, but because sheets of particulate don’t let the faint light reach the ground. The buildings are tightly packed and the windows sparsely lit up. The local train passes by amid the tightly packed houses. Apartments are built above, below and both sides of the train bridge, to maximize the population the city can hold. 250 kmph is quite fast, but if the train moved slower, the travellers of the train could spot what people in the apartments were doing, what TV show they were watching, or could even make a clear eye contact for an instant with them through the windows.
At floor number 11 of Friendship apartments, Apt 114’s nameplate reads: Hamish Dalal & Zuna Dalal. College batchmates who ended up getting married when they met again years after graduating, when they were needier. The house is not very big given the prices of real estate, but it is spacious enough for the couple. Two bedrooms, hall and a kitchen. The house is spick and span, a result of Zuna’s diligence. If she also starts throwing things here and there in the house like Hamish, it would be too difficult to stay organized and find anything. The view outside the windows in the hall is blocked by other buildings. Zuna rarely opens the windows as they offer little in terms of fresh air or sunlight. One bedroom is occupied by the couple and the other by anyone who’s visiting the house. Currently, Father.
Hamish is sleeping profusely, on his fat stomach, oscillating up and down as if sleeping on a balloon. Pressing switches attached to plants in his dream, and rotating dials that control the level of their oxygen production, breathing, or turning the wifi on or off etc. An effect of working on the same thing over and over throughout the day. Alongside lays Zuna, in her own half portion of the bed. Her smaller frame occupies much less of what she acquires. The space between their separate mattresses act as the line dividing their bed into two individual beds, close but not touching. Tonight Zuna is kept awake by the synchronized sound of Hamish’s snores and clock’s ticking. She looks at his peace and shaking in anger, thinks of choking him up in sleep. On realizing her inability to channel her anger, tears roll down her face. Alas, tears don’t make sounds. So her sadness escalates to sobs that get louder and louder until they wake Hamish up.
“What happened,” he asks, raising his saggy face and looking at her with sleepy eyes, still confused whether he’s sleeping or awake.
“I can’t live in this house anymore,” she says, turning the other way.
“Why, what happened? Tell me.,” he asks, trying to be more attentive.
“It’s yours and your dad’s house. I can’t live in this house as long as he’s here.”
“Why? Did he do something?”
“No. Don’t worry. You can go back to sleep.”
“Oh c’mon tell me.” he says putting his hand on her shoulder and opening his eyes up fully.
“A hell lot. What do I say? He watches TV too loud, talks on phone too loud, screams if his lunch is delayed 5 minutes, keeps pointing faults in my cooking. Jeera is not enough, Garam masala is too much, oil is too much. Pretends to clean the house at times, as if I’m not doing enough. I can’t live peacefully anymore. I am always worried he’ll point out something and judge me. Even if he doesn’t say, I know he’s thinking I have made a mistake somewhere. “
“Don’t worry. Let him think that. Don’t take too much load. He’ll go away one day.”
“Exactly what I knew you’d say. Is that a solution? What do you care? You’re not the one suffering all day.”
“What can we do? Our hands are tied?,” he says, shaking his head, and vibrating the loose skin of his face.
“Ask him to go away? Unless you want me to go away and I’ll leave this house as long as he’s here. He cooks well himself, he tells me every day. He’ll cook for you well enough.”
“He’s an old man. Old men do get senile. It was your idea after all.”
“What? Really? Didn’t you agree with my idea? He came here to solve our problems, and look we’re still fighting! He has only increased our problems.” she says and starts crying with her face underneath the pillow.
“I’m done with all of this. Hell, I am not even allowed to sleep peacefully anymore. Come let’s go and talk to him.,” he says, almost shouting.
“What? Now? He must be sleeping,” says the wife, sobering up, in a scared voice.
“It’s okay. He sleeps enough during the day as well. Let’s face him now that you’re up in arms about it. Tomorrow you’ll cool down and won’t face it. And then, next week, same thing will happen. Let’s go and talk right now.”
He gets up and asks her to get up as well. She doesn’t, so he holds her hand and shakes her at once. So, she also rises. Slightly apprehensive.
Hamish walks ahead and Zuna follows him.
Father is sitting on the bed, resting his back against the wall. On his laptop, he’s scrolling something while talking on the phone, speaking slowly, “The company is sitting on a volcano because of Rajshekhar. But forget all that. You don’t worry as long as I’m here. We’ll find a way…”. A knock at the door disturbs his flow at once. “Ttyl,” he says and disconnects immediately. Screams out, “What happened? Why do you wake up an old man in the middle of his sleep?” Zuna listens and feels really guilty of worrying the old man late in the night. “You talk, I can’t face all this.” and rushes back to her room.
Hamish is almost about to have a fit when she goes back. He feels like a fool standing there to solve her problems when she does not care about him. Father takes slightly long, a few minutes, to open up the door. Standing outside, Hamish’s knees hurt and he takes the support of the wall. Next to him is a 3 year old photograph of the newly married couple hanging on the wall. Anger melts into grief. He wonders about the days when he looked better and wanted to do so much in his life. “I was so damn foolish, ” he says to himself.
The door opens and Father welcomes him with a gentle smile saying, “Come inside son.” Hamish walks in and Father offers him water. Father walks back discontinuously as if his joints hurt. Hamish’s gaze goes from looking towards him, towards water and then taking to the floor as he sips it.
“Get to see you very less, son. Too busy in the office I guess? You said you’ll start going out for morning walks and exercising with me.,” says the father, gesturing him to sit on the chair next to him. Father himself is sitting on the bed.
“I’ll do that from next week maybe. Not now. I have too much pressure from my work. We’ll discuss that later, ” he says, perspiring a bit.
“It’s okay. Next week it is.”
“I said maybe. I am not sure if I will be able to. If I already have too much stress from work, I won’t have time to worry about more things. ” he says in a slightly hostile tone.
“What is this work pressure you keep mentioning about?” says the father, countering him.
“Don’t worry about that. Even you are adding stress only in my life. ”
Father knows his ways and knew he said this to offend him. Replies in a very cool tone, “I’m very sorry. Is it? Oh, I didn’t know. Tell me. Don’t worry.”
Hamish’s anger at him jumps back a bit and he calms down. “Not you, it’s just that Zuna is not happy. And she can’t sleep and she’s not letting me sleep either. I sometimes feel that every decision I took in life until now was a mistake.”
“That’s how it feels son when one is angry or sad. Your mind gets surrounded by black clouds and everything seems dark. Give it some time and don’t think too much right now. When you’ll be happy again, everything will make sense. What does she say to you? “
“She says you’re watching TV too loud and it is always disturbing her. Also, don’t point mistakes in her cooking. She doesn’t like it. “
“Oh… I didn’t know. I should have been more careful. I only watch one show on TV, Dancing Voices. Watching it for so many days and today was already the finale of it. She must have been getting disturbed all this while. Why did it take you so long to let me know she doesn’t like it?”
“She just told me today.”
“Okay. Hmm. Did you wonder why she told you so late? Maybe she was worried about you. Maybe she can see that you return very tired from your work. And she does not want you to be disturbed.
“You are not the only one under ‘Pressure’. She’s getting affected here as well. Let your Boss know you want to work less. Try to have some free time for yourself and her. We already have enough of other things.”
He listens peacefully and is calmer now and says, “It’s just that I don’t have control over thoughts when I let them slip, and I get mad.”
“It’s okay. It will be manageable with time. Don’t worry. What else did she say?”
“She thinks you don’t like her cooking, or don’t find the house clean enough, and all that. You know she stays obsessed about these things.”
“Oh, really? Poor girl. Can you call her?”
He walks to the door to call her name.
Zuna walks into the room with a slightly concerned and slightly apprehensive countenance. Father smiles assuringly at her as well, and asks her to sit besides Hamish. She looks at Hamish and makes eye contact with him while he pinches his nose.
“Zuna, don’t you consider me your father? “
“Yes I do,” she replies.
“Then why did you not come up to me directly and tell that I am disturbing you in some way? If you said it, I’d have turned off the TV. It was not a problem for me. You could also scold me. I would have to listen here. I would love to listen to you in fact. Because I have to take care of my children… I am very much pained by you not telling me.”
” I’ll tell you next time,” she says in a low tone.
“You could tell Hamish at least. Why did it take you such a long time to tell him?”
“He does not listen to me. He stays overwhelmed with what his boss said, what the clients said, what his pet plants said, and so much more” she says sharply.
Then father looks at Hamish and says, “If she was facing any problem Hamish, is it too much for her to ask from her husband?”
“I didn’t know. I keep waiting for her to say something to me at times. I can see on her face when something is troubling her, but she never says.” Hamish says looking at father.
“Well you should know man! why does she not tell you. And if she does not speak, ask her yourself.
“And Zuna, did I return my plate to you empty after eating your breakfast, lunch or dinner?”
“No. I don’t remember. “
“I never did. I like your food very much. The reason I ask you to put less salt or oil is that if you make me habituated to your Bhindi, Rajma or your Gobhi paratha, then how will I go out and eat anywhere else?
“And I clean around myself because I don’t want to bother you. Because you are already doing too much and I feel guilty of enjoying having you take care of me all day.”
“Oh. I didn’t know.” She says.
“Remeber Zuna, it is your right to tell him whatever is up with you. And if he doesn’t listen, just let me know. I’ll take care of him.” he says knuckling his fingers.
Zuna gives a slight grin looking at Hamish who is facing the floor again.
“The problem with you also, Zuna, is that just like him, you also think a lot. Instead of clarifying things out, you start imagining a lot of things. You have such a beautiful bond with him. Don’t let your worries spoil it.”
Zuna nods like a kid.
“Anything else Zuna? Anything, related to me or unrelated to me that is worrying you? What about you Hamish? Tell me now, I’m listening.,” asks the father.
“No,” says Hamish in a slightly good mood.
“No.” Zuna says as well, banding together with Hamish.
” Ok. Go now. Have a sleep you two. It’s late.”
They get up to leave.
“Look at what a lovely young couple it is. Now is the time for you to live and enjoy. Don’t waste your precious time worrying about small things.”
They look at each other again and share a smile, as they walk back together to their room. There’s no such thing as a boundary between them in their bed this time. Hamish crosses his and Zuna doesn’t mind. Hamish whispers to Zuna, “Why do you think the old man locks his room?”. “I don’t know. Ask him tomorrow,” she replies chuckling. They sleep closer to each other now. Closer than they have been in a long time.
Father locks his room again and walks back to his almirah in a normal gait. Removes his fake nose and goggles that make him look old. The insides of these props are stamped “Friendly Companions Inc.” Places them in a box and brings his PC back out from below the bed. Connects a small mic to his PC. Touches Record and starts speaking in the mic, “Day 37. 12:30 am. Subjects are communicating more with each other now. Problems created for one are reaching the other. Being the villain surely helps. They are looking at each other more now. Self-acknowledgement of their issues and behaviors is increasing.”
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