I Understand

by Vishal Anand

What had attracted me to her in the initial days of our courtship was her bewitching, mesmerising smile. It was a spontaneous outpouring of joy through which the radiance of her soul shone, a glimpse of the treasure trove of love that lay in her heart.  When she smiled, it seemed that all the charm and ecstasy that this universe has to offer had come together to reveal their beauty to you – the luckiest man in the world – at that very moment.

But of course, her smile is more discreet now. It is – to use the corporate jargon – customized. Every smile tailor-made to fit the situation at hand! It has the correct façade of warmth to keep the other person interested, but not too interested. Nothing wrong with that. It is a part of normal social etiquette which ladies of polished culture follow.

I understand.

During our courtship, I used to long for the day when I would wake up in the morning to find her sleeping next to me. That day came…. And it went. Now when I retire to bed at night, I find that the long arms of sleep have already embraced her before I could. I gaze at her. She appears the most vulnerable, the most graceful and most feminine when she is asleep. And when I get up in the morning, I see that she is no longer there. The portion of the bed on which she was asleep is still warm. I feel and soak in the residue of her warmth for some time. And then, with half open eyes, I see that she is already in kitchen. After all, she has a family to raise at home and glory to seek in her profession.

I understand.

Mostly, her attire used to be white then. With a touch of turquoise. And a hint of fuchsia. And a dash of auburn. Sometimes burgundy too. And emerald. And chartreuse. But mostly white.

Honestly I had not known that life could be this colorful, that there could be so many shades and hues to life, before I met her.

Now, when she sits beside me in the car, on the way to the workplace, I notice that she is dressed in black office suit. She needs to look tough and smart among her colleagues and peers, she says. As I stop the car, she gets off. For a brief moment, I hesitate to change gears and move on, with the faint hope that she will turn around to say a good-bye. But it seems that her mind has already been usurped by the demands that her quest for success places on her. So I witness a svelte, feminine figure in black being consumed by a monstrous, concrete structure in grey. Finally I change gears and drive away. I am not disappointed though.

I understand.

During our courtship, she had strictly forbidden me to reveal our relationship to our friends and family. I had agreed. I thought that the veneer of secrecy flamed the intensity of our emotions for each other. Now, after every holiday spent in an exotic destination, she takes care to immediately post the pictures on social networks – pictures where she has allowed me to wrap my arm around her bare shoulder, pictures where she is grinning widely and I am trying to, pictures which I thought were too personal. She believes it is important to portray some levity, show our fun side to the world so that people believe we are an “interesting” couple.

I understand.

It has been 10 years since we met and eight years since we got married. In this period, we overcame a novice’s hesitation and forsook childish naiveté. Peaks of passion gave way to plateaus of convenience. We became more “practical”. But at what cost? Does the wisdom we have gained compensate the innocence we have lost?

They say “Marriage kills romance”.

I understand.

Totally.

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