Kshitij: 1-The Mundane Horizon

'Mundane is a state of Mind'.

I watch as Evaan hurries through his morning routine stumbling around. While my sure hands conjure the containers of his tiffin as if by magic. Cursing he struggles through his bag for the third time.

'On the key hanger,' I say as the tea starts to boil.

'Yes!' he exclaims with just a little sigh and snatches his I-card and flings it into his bag. 'Kshitijaaa! That's why, I married you'. 

"No, you married me because our parents decreed so".

I smile and set his tea on the table. 

He smiles. 'Thanks'.

I smile again and then once more as he leaves for the office. I will smile again when he returns.

We have been smiling a lot. Is there joy in it?

Fake or not, we do smile a lot.

By 11, I am done with my chores and have already fed Kaju. She now sleeps in her crib.

I see her as my child, my daughter but also as a woman, another kindred soul.

Will she achieve something worthwhile in her life or will she be relegated to the lesser half of the family? Like her mother.

Lately, I have been spiraling into these thoughts a lot.

 

I am happy or as happy as someone can be in the mediocrity of married life. But, this is certainly not what I wanted from life.

I hear a songbird twitter loudly and it takes a few seconds for me to process that it's my cellphone. I see that it's a message from Sippi with an attached video file.

 

'Watch!' it says.

I watch the video as Sippi and her class groove to the beat of Jhoomar Jhoomar song. This brings a smile to my face as I was the one who suggested this song for her class.

But my smile soon turns upside down. This could have been me. I was good. Sippi was fast but I had the grace. I could also paint and sing. They called me the talented one in the family.

Until I got married. Now, I have nothing. I am not angry just a little empty. Just, then another message beeps on my cell. 

It's Evaan. An image of 'Idli' with 'Dinner?' written in Caps blinks on my screen. Evaan really loves Idli, I hate them. I like Medu-wada but Evaan like Idli. So Idli it is. I send back a 'Thumbs-up'. I set the phone and lay down on the recliner.

Kaju's cry wakes me up. I glance at the watch. 40 minutes of nap for me and around 3 hours for Kaju. 

I change her nappy and feed her. I set her back in the crib and she plays with her toes. 

I pick up an old newspaper to wrap the nappy. Kaju tries to pull a page out of it and I let her. She starts playing with it. I wrap the nappy on another page and put it in the dustbin. 

And then it hits me, like the stink from an old garbage pile that assaults you suddenly. This is me! this is my life! Cooking, cleaning, and maybe more nappies. Mundane and mediocre.

I sigh. I hear a tearing scratch and rush over to Kaju. She is about to put a shred of paper in her mouth. I snatch it away. I try to pull the other bigger piece from her hand and she resists. Babies have such strong grips. 

I turn away in mock anger. Kaju coos happily and then offers me the paper. Her smile is worth all my regrets. I am about to throw away the paper but an ad catches my eye.

'Wanted, dance teacher'. The pay is nominal but the location is nearby. I can do this but then I see Kaju smile and point towards a picture of Evaan and then smile even more.

I sigh. I already have a job. A '24 × 7' job with two babies. One stays at home and other goes to the office. 

Kaju looks at my somber face and beckons with both hands. As I clutch her to my heart, her radiant smile lifts my gloom. Like sunshine after cloudy rains, it clears away my thoughts. 

I see her now as my daughter, a girl, and a woman. Growing stronger and more beautiful. An achiever and a good; no na great dancer. Everything that I could have ever been and far greater than that. I realize that I don't have a job but a project, a mission.

My mundane horizon suddenly expands into new lands and Oh! I shall conquer them.

Evaan is back by 6.30. We greet him at the door. He gently pries away Kaju from me. They converse in the weird language only they understand.

He smiles and asks, 'Idli'.

I say, 'No, Medu-wada'.

He laughs and says, 'Ok!'

I laugh with him and this time I am really smiling.