The presence
Anu felt desolate. Neither her down-to -earth, logical mind, nor her ability to learn fast had come to her rescue when she felt let down by life itself. After her third miscarriage, when it started becoming clear that she would never get a child of her own, Anu cried her heart out. Her husband was there with her, holding her hands, trying to console her. Time would heal her, he hoped.
Time flew by. Instead of giving her a healing touch, it left her more aching. Being childless is not like not being a millionaire. Millionaires don’t cross your path every day. But, wherever Anu turned to escape the deep gash in her, she saw children. Smiling children, weeping ones, chubby ones, sickly ones. But it hurt most when she saw them in relationship to their mothers. From ads on TV, magazines to reality shows, botched motherhood haunted her. Mothers carrying their little kids in uniforms to the school bus, mothers waiting at the pediatrician’s with their sick babies, mothers rushing to Parent-Teacher meets…mothers beaming alongside their children who had topped exams, mothers shopping for their children’s weddings. Mothers proudly showing off gifts from their children, mothers on long calls…the flower seller fanning her little daughter sleeping naked on the pavement, the beggar woman blackmailing the public with pathetic demands for her nursing baby…
Ten years into her marriage, Anu was still distraught. Her younger sister already had two kids, a pair of the naughtiest boys on earth, she boasted. They were brilliant too. They demanded this and that, and fulfilling those wishes had become her sister’s goal in life. Anu found it difficult to sustain conversations with her kid-centred sister. She did not even wish to meet her anytime soon. On her husband’s side, there was thankfully no one to bother her. Anu almost felt grateful that he was an only child, orphaned early in life.

Anu’s husband, a well-qualified executive in a company, was her sole support. He was as heart-broken as Anu was when the verdict was out. He had known loneliness from point-blank range and had wished to have a fulfilling family of his own. Unlike Anu, however, he came to terms quickly with his reality and found ways to compensate the barrenness. He gave Anu his best: as a spouse, a friend and an anchor. He was never harsh, ever receptive and inventive in showing his affection. He thought of surprise week end getaways, candle-light dinners, treks, adventure sports. He ordered whatever was new; he kept the apartment looking forever fresh with changed decors, the latest fittings and plants. He encouraged her to read, shared his knowledge and shared her house work. If there was any virgin territory between them it was in the most delicious curry she made – he said it was best left as her mysterious speciality – and the vaster domain of his speciality: investments and finances. She shrugged away when he tried to educate her in those. She found him sexier with expertise beyond her grasp.
Twenty years into their marriage, Anu was marginally better. All those repeated one-sided takes of hers on motherhood had helped her heal. For all her bragging about her children, her sister murmured copiously about her husband. He didn’t bother to help the kids with homework, he never attended their school functions. He complained of the disorder in the house and held the mother responsible. Anu listened in silence but now she knew where her trump card was. She had an exemplary husband and holding on to him was her route to salvation. They would live like two peas in a pod, or like two humans held tight by an emotional rubber-band. Her husband welcomed the embrace.
Then Anu thought of making the embrace fool-proof. She asked her husband to resign the job and start a consultancy at home. They were well off, had decent savings, a farm-house and of course no daughters to marry off or sons to educate. Their apartment was large enough to accommodate an office and they would be with each other 24x7. The gnawing anxiety she felt when he was late would go. Her husband thought of the idea and what it would mean. He could not aspire to the highest posts which were but a few years away from reach. Missed perks and travels were comparatively minor losses. Starting a consultancy needed expertise and lots of self-confidence. Finding and nurturing a clientele was a challenge. He thought about it, welcomed it as another opportunity to paint life in the colours and desires of his wife.
In six months he was a success. In between her housework Anu would peep into his office, with a glass of fruit juice, a crunchy snack and a naughty little hug. Or she would come in with a flask of steaming coffee and pour it in two mugs which snuggled close to each other. She glowed with pride at the prosperous look of the place. After all even the wall hangings and flower vases were her choice. He was only too glad to see her aglow with love and contentment.
And then one day she came. A young woman, in her early thirties. A consultancy cannot of course say ‘for male clients only’. Anu saw her husband open the door. Anu saw an elegantly dressed woman with neatly trimmed short hair, a trendy bag in hand. Anu saw her husband smile at the lady. Anu froze in the middle of the tune she was humming.
It seemed like hours when finally the wafting perfume faded.
Anu waited with a fast beating heart for her husband to come for lunch. He came, ate as heartily as he always did, helped put away the dishes, paid her compliments, sat next to her on the sofa and fed her dessert. Anu remained silent. He shut shop as usual at 7 and was by her side, looking for his cup of tea.
After many years, Anu was in turmoil again. She did not know what to make of the visitor. The newness of the situation gnawed into her. A typical feminine insecurity overcame her. Her husband’s silence aggravated it.
Then during dinner Anu asked him who the woman was. He said cheerfully that she was Rima a very knowledgeable, well-qualified financial expert. She had heard of his consultancy through friends and had come to check it out for herself. Rima had sounded impressed by his work.
Anu grew restless. Neither her husband’s nearness nor his embrace removed her uneasiness. She hoped this learned woman would leave them alone after the compliments she had paid her husband.
But in the following weeks, the fragrance of the heady perfume only grew more familiar. Anu even dreaded the sound of the lift door opening. There were discussions and more discussions. Rima smiled at Anu, spoke to her gently, she appreciated the coffee Anu made.
As the crisis deepened within her, Anu had nowhere to turn to. She could not stretch her hand for her husband to hold. He spoke of Rima with respect. Her knowledge and work ethics were impeccable. She had the instinct for making the right contacts. Their association promised to bring his consultancy good name and good money. One day Rima could want to become a partner too, he said.
Anu cursed the day she had asked him to resign his job. If he had female friends, at least they had not been within her view. Their perfumes hadn’t lingered in her nose and mind, driving her frantic. Anu wished she had let her husband educate her in the subject. She could have been his working partner too. What was she to do? As ignorant about business as about motherhood, Anu wondered if professional closeness could mutate into something malignant. Tied in knots, her stomach brewing a soup of butterflies and fear hammering her mind, Anu gave herself a month to think it all out. This was the first time in her married life that she was keeping a problem to herself and she could not predict if she had the ability to solve it by herself. If she continued to be miserable, she would ask her husband to tell Rima he could not associate with her. Anu knew he would not refuse her request. This extreme possibility quietened Anu’s mind somewhat. She decided to live out her insecurity and hurts during the month without running away from them or feeling victimized.
Anu did not talk to her husband any more about Rima. If he referred to her in the course of a conversation, she listened carefully but did not react.
And then, on one of the many sleepless nights, Anu found her way. Like at the last step of a steep climb, she willed herself to let go of her crippling emotions. It felt lonely up there. Then she unfurled her plan to herself, slowly, syllable by syllable. ‘If Rima is so amazingly knowledgeable, good for her. If her association with my husband promises to work wonders for him, good for him. All these years he has given me his very best, without a thought for himself. It is my turn now. The niceties of motherhood and the intricate realities of investments might have eluded me but surely I am qualified enough to recognise magnanimity and give some back’
She would make adjustments. She would make more space for him; no, it would not be difficult, it would be like removing some furniture in the living room for more freedom. Or was it the other way round? Moving some furniture to accommodate one more? Whatever…’More coffee for Rima too’, Anu tried to force a wry smile.
‘She makes great coffee’ smiled Rima to herself. ‘the guy is a gold mine waiting to be explored. Even at 50-50, we could simply have a ball for life. Let me give it a month to formally propose partnership.’
‘I am lucky Rima came my way. My, is she passion-driven in her work! It is exciting to think where we could reach. Let me give it a month to give it all a final touch’, thinks he.
Like an ant staggering out of a spoonful of water, Anu recovers in a month’s time. Or maybe she has resigned herself to the inevitable.
The next morning Anu wakes up to a new consciousness. The butterfly storm has subsided, the head feels uncluttered. She is once more able to hum a tune without breaking down midway. She will make extra strong coffee today without any bitterness in her. As she makes her routine cleaning round of the office, she stops every two minutes. She is able to spray the delicate pine-scented room freshner after a month, while having her little chat with the Laughing Budha. She has brought a few coloured flowers to place at his feet. She touches with the utmost gentleness the new soft money plant leaf climbing up the window, and opens the curtains wide. She is Anu reborn. ‘this is not only an office, it is a place which breathes and lives love. And the presence of love allows no room for insecuirty. I was foolish to go through all those awful emotions. In fact Rima’s coming has like cleared my mind of all the misgivings and complexes of all these years. I should thank her.’
Her husband has been building castles in his own private pockets of air. Sipping coffee opposite Rima, in a moment of relaxation amid hectic business talks, he thinks: The way things promise to go, I will have to find newer tax-evading techniques- Jokes apart, I wonder what I will do with the extra roll of wealth. All for Anu of course. I should plan a real grand surprise for our next wedding anniversary, like say…a round-the-world cruise on a luxury liner or a polar expedition. Cover her in what’s the name…Swarovski crystals…or…maybe Rima can give me some good clues about the latest jewellery. She has great taste.’ Incidentally the coffee is tasting real great too and …the familiar fragrance in the room is reminding him of a missing presence. A touch, a glance, a peel of laughter. ‘I will make up for it on the cruise’ he promises his slightly flustered self.
.
While delicately sipping the best cup of Fresh and Ground filter coffee yet, Rima lets her eyes wander around. For all the brisk business which is happening in the office, there is a presence here which wafts along with the coffee vapours. The fragrance of pine, new to her, disturbs her slightly. She gazes at the single life-size picture of a couple in a fisherman’s boat on a calm river. He is oaring. She is throwing a handful of water at him. Her eyes are dancing with joy. He looks totally enchanted. The setting sun in the background makes it a striking picture.
As Rima looks around some more, she feels the presence everywhere. She can even hear The laughing Budha’s side splitting laughter. The Feng shui bamboos, the bright red and gold wind chimes, a well-opened window with a lovely view outside, curtains of sheer white lace, small memorabilia from many voyages arranged tastefully, a delicately embroidered table cloth on a side table with…two identical coffee mugs with ‘Mickey and Minnie’ written on them, a suggestive single seater wicker swing…things you don’t find in an investment firm or a consultancy office. So carried away had she been by business prospects that she had missed it all. How could she?
It’s never too late to learn, Rima tells herself. This place speaks of an investment I have never known.
It’s time to quit.