Everything For Him - Part 1

Oh My God! I just can't believe it... I am growing old... I am getting old... The mere thought of it sends a shiver down my spine. I wish I had a secret recipe which can prevent me from getting aged and restore the glow that I used to have in my twenties. But there's nothing that can be done as growing old is mandatory. 

As I look at my reflection in the mirror I could easily sense, it was lying. Yes, mirrors lie as they only show what's on the outside but doesn't really show what's going inside of me. It is showing me a happy woman dressed in an Orange Saree with bright red lipstick and sapphire eyes, a woman who looked like she'd just won the lottery not a brokenhearted woman who'd spent the past ten years trying to put her shattered pieces of life back together into a single piece. 

I could practically pinpoint where my wrinkles would come in, where the creases near my eyes would multiply and spread out over time; where my lips would eventually thin out and dissolve into my mouth. So far I'd been lucky, but I was pretty sure the hundreds of anti-aging and wrinkle-prevention creams imported from France were the real reasons for the delay.

Well! If you are wondering about me, I am Ananya. I am thirty nine years old and I am working as a creative planner and designer at ASM Industries, one of the leading advertising firms in Hyderabad. My problem right now is I am going to turn forty in a week and I'm suffering from all the symptoms of a mid-life crisis. Ten years ago my husband and I got divorced. From then on I have been living alone in my tiny single-bedroom flat at Madhapur, Hyderabad. Not a single day goes by without thinking about my ex-husband Raghav. 

Ten years have passed ever since my divorce with Raghav and it is a hard reality to swallow that he is no longer a part of my world. I miss those times when we were together, telling me I have nothing to fear. I cry thinking of him every night, wanting him to hold me as I grip my pillow tight. 

Tears were streaming unrestricted down my face and my throat was closing up. First I shed a single tear because we are apart, wanting nothing but to be with him, to make a brand new start, which is impossible. The second tear I shed is a lonely tear indeed, my mind goes wild and numb, and my heart begins to bleed. The third tear I cry wanting to feel your touch, to taste your kiss and lips on mine, I want so very much. 

I was questioning everything I'd ever done, comparing myself to all my friends, and wondering if I would ever find more fulfillment in life. The tears smudged my mascara. I washed my face again and applied it one more time. 

I then opened my journal and started making a list of everything I needed to do once I hit the big 4-0:

1) Make a plan to quit my job in five years and pursue my dream career: Interior Design.

2) Pay off all my credit cards.

3) Stop reading romantic books and stop watching romantic movies.

4) Go on a world tour.

5) Learn to be happy living alone.

6) Be a part of social activities.

7) Adopt a child.

'Ananya! Still how much time do you need to get ready? We're going to be late. Everyone will be waiting for us,' My friend and colleague Sandhya called from the kitchen. 

'Coming! Coming!' I fastened my jacket and took another glance at myself in the mirror and cursed under my breath as I don't understand why our CEO Mr.Muralidhar has decided to organize a new year party this time in a pub. 

In the pub we come across many stalkers who straight away begin their conversation by asking your personal information. The worst experience I had at a pub was when a guy in his mid thirties who came up to me, obviously drunk, and asked if I would come out with him for a date. When I refused, he caught me by his hand but luckily bouncers came to my rescue.

'Ananya…' She called me again. 

'I am done!' I walked out of my bedroom and put my appearance before her.

Sandhya is twenty-eight, married to a handsome loving husband. I have known her for six years and despite the age gap of twelve, Sandhya and I managed to hit it off. We became best buddies. Anyone who saw us for the first time would be of the impression that we are childhood friends. Such was my friendship with her. But, from the past two years her obsession for getting me married intensified with each passing day and her obsession went to such an extent that she even involved her husband and scrambled her parents in search of a groom for me.

'You look stunning!' Sandhya said, looking at my bright orange-colored sari. 'Can I please borrow your wardrobe?'

'Yes you can only if I can borrow your life.' I chuckled. 'I am just kidding!'

Sandhya stared at me, scanning from tip to toe. 'It's ridiculous! We are going to a pub and you are dressed in a saree? Go and change your dress now!'

'Is it written anywhere that women dressed in sari are not allowed inside pubs?' I asked her.

'Will you change or not?' Her face became tight and voice stern.

There's no use arguing with her. Reluctantly, I returned to the bedroom, undressed my saree, blouse except the bra and slipped on to black lace dress which she gifted me last year. I adjusted the neckline to ensure there's no cleavage. I never liked going for a party along with my office colleagues as I don't find anyone worth my time at those things, and the foul scent of desperation always hung in the air.

'Now we are ready for the party! Cheers!' Sandhya said and placed her hands on my cheeks, caressing my cheekbones with her thumbs. '2019 will definitely be promising for you! I can feel it! You will definitely get married this year to a wealthy and handsome guy.'

Well! She has been saying the same kind of thing every year. I told her a million times I don't want to get married, but she never listens to me. All those grooms that she has brought so far are very old to me. At least if there's an age gap of five years I would have given a thought. 

'Do we really need to go to Pub? I have some marketing research I could-'

 

'Doing office work on a new years eve? Are you out of your mind? We're going out!'

 

'Sandhya, can't we just stay in, have some food, and go over our resolutions?'

 

'Ananya our CEO will also be coming and don't worry, Vishal will not be coming to the party!'

 

'Vishal is not coming?' I asked her again to confirm.

 

'Yes, he posted in our whatsapp group.'

 

'That's really good! Had he been coming I am not sure what kind of drama I need to play to put him away. You very well know how he always stares at me as if I am a slut,' I sighed.

 

'I don't understand why you are afraid of him? If you had given him one befitting reply he would never dare to cast his look upon you. As long as you don't rail against him, you are providing him the liberty to keep doing the same.'

 

'Sandhya my life is already in troubled waters. I don't want to complicate it further.'

 

'Your wish! I already told you a million times and yet you treat it with disdain,' Sandhya walked in from the front door and opened it. 'We're going out.'

Sandhya and I reached the Zynk Pub and lounge in Madhapur which is just a fifteen minute drive from my apartment. A big banner was erected outside on which it's written 'Bye-Bye 2018, Welcome 2019.'. Years are just passing by, but literally there has been no change in my life. 

All my colleagues were seated on one side and not many turned up for thr party. Tonight, the Zynk Pub and lounge was way over-capacity. I often listen to many people saying that Pub's are meant only for young people. If they probably make a visit today, they will change their opinion as I got to see even people aged above fifty. Many say pub culture is becoming a menace to the Indian culture. Humans are social persons and love to have  some recreation to get relief from a heavy work schedule. And I don't find anything wrong in it.

I got so used to these crowds that I'd become quite the people reader. The guy standing by the window was at least forty, the blond hair dye he'd been using to look ten years younger was beginning to fade. On the window seats that lined the far wall, shy women were fidgeting with their hair and clothes like nervous high school teenagers.

I grabbed two beers from the end of the table and sat on an empty couch, observing one man's poor attempt to get a shy woman to dance.

'Is this seat taken?' A young man with grey eyes smiled at me, interrupting my fascinating peoples watch. The dim lighting and disco lights of the pub made it difficult to capture his facial features. 

'No... No... it's not occupied,' I told him.

'Great!' He sat down and put his beer on the table. 'I am Akash. May I take your name?'

I was wondering why I didn't come across any stalkers so far.

'Ananya,' I said without looking at him.

'Only Ananya? Just a one word name?'

'Ananya Sharma!' I don't like being called with my full name.

 

'That's a pretty name. What do you do for a living, Miss Ananya Sharma?'

Wow! I really loved it.  He called me Miss Ananya. It means I look young? 

'I work as a creative designer and planner in ASM Industries. What do you do?'

He tapped the label on his beer. 'I own and manage a pharma company, Nuvoco Life Sciences. It's in Choutuppal, outskirts of Hyderabad.'

'Very impressive,' I said. 'So, what do you do-'

'How old are you?' he interrupted me, 'if you don't mind me asking?'

Urr… Here we go...

 

'I'm thirty-nine, and yourself?'

'Wow… But you look so young!' He looked me up and down. 'I'm thirty one.'

I felt myself smiling. For a moment, we both stared at each other and didn't speak a word. Then the realization came back reflecting, he is just a stalker. I just wanted to cut him away before he asks me for a date or anything. If any of my colleagues spotted me with him they would create unnecessary gossip. 

'You know what!' I stood up in haste. 'I have to go to the restroom. I'll be right back.'

I pushed through the crowd and made my way to the dance floor. I took a deep breath and tried to make a few moves to sync myself with the music. I turned around and rolled my eyes for Sandhya. Smoke filled the air and the teenagers were grooving madly to the latest songs being played by the DJ. Harvey.

'I take it you're not having a good time?' A husky voice said from beside me.

I turned around. It was Akash. I didn't want to engage myself in any more conversations with him. I just wanted to go home. I sent Sandhya a text message and made a break for the parking lot. I got into the car and from the side mirror on the left I could see someone running. I turned back and through the rear windshield I could see its Sandhya.

'Hey, hey, hey!' Sandhya climbed in and shut the door. 'We've only been here twenty minutes! What will you do by going home? Close the room and cry again. Raghav left you. It's a reality and it's already been ten years. How long will you remain alone? There's nothing wrong in getting married again. For a clean slate beginning, the past needs to be wiped off. I don't know why you care about what this society thinks!'

'Sandhya! There is still a stigma attached with an individual's "divorced" status in the matrimonial market. Families and friends perceive divorced women like me as "second hand merchandise".'

'The day our mindset nurtures positive thoughts and learns to be receptive with a changed outlook, things would definitely change for the better.'

We were silent for about a minute. Sensing the vexation on my face she decided to drop me home.

'Let me drive, you've already consumed two beers. There will be drunk and drive raids all across the city!'

'Ok!' I laid back in my seat and lost in my own world. 

 

In a country where marriage is often considered sacred and even quintessential for a woman, and divorce gets looked at as a sign of failure. I many times wonder why nobody was talking or writing on this subject. There was plenty of legal help but nothing to cope with the emotional aftermath of a divorce. Then there was this thing about my future partner. I had no clue what my future was going to be.

To be continued...