Life's Lessons

As I walked up to the stage and climbed the steps, my robes for the day billowing around me, I felt an elation inside. It was a journey of six long years – a journey of sleepless nights, brain-racking mathematical derivations, and the great art of balancing professional, educational, and family priorities.

 

“Mr Manu, Ph. D in Chemical Engineering. Congratulations!”

I moved forward gracefully to receive my certificate and the gold medal. Though my demeanor was all humility, I was literally gloating inside as I thought of all my critics. I gazed up in the crowd searching for the two women who had sacrificed even some simple indulgences for my doctorate. There…I caught my Mom waving at me and sniffing joyous tears into her handkerchief. My wife Mitra, resplendent in a pink and navy-blue suit, was clicking away to glory on her smartphone with one hand. Her other hand was around my Mom. I could see her grin and hear her sigh of relief at the six-year-old ordeal coming to an end. Later when my mentor and friends congratulated me and advised me to focus on family, I winked naughtily at my wife and enjoyed her blushing even after all these years of marriage.

The next day when I went to the office, there was much of handshaking, back-patting, cake cutting, jealous sighs, and an overdose of respect along with a hefty incentive from the organization I worked for. I was floating in air through the day and since I felt every bit of the adulation was earned, it didn’t bother too much to conceal my glee. We partied long and hard that evening. The night was equally high as I released all my pent-up passion of years into my wife. We weathered the next few stormy nights of June with our heated passion.

Slowly I started anticipating another result…one that will elevate my status as a dad. But month after month, the anticipated outcome eluded me. My status in society rose. We now had a swanky automobile and a house to call our own home. I was invited as a keynote speaker in many conferences and soon everyone recognized and acknowledged me as one of the country’s handful of experts in my field. Students waited in the queue to be mentored by me. My wife too evolved professionally with my confidence rubbing on her. We had everything in life except a creation we could call our own.

My urge to keep up with society’s pace made me convince my wife to take medical advice. When the result came, I was devastated. We will never be able to procreate, the basic purpose of existence of all humans, according to some. The next few months were bitter. The fact that Mitra accepted it and took it in her stride didn’t help. I even contemplated divorce. But then that wasn’t a solution because I was incapable of procreating too. And since I had married Mitra of my own choice, it will prove to the world that my choice was wrong, something which I couldn’t handle either. So, I sought the adoption route. And thus, Aditya came into our lives.

Aditya, true to his name, was like real sunshine in our lives. A happy, go easy guy, he somehow made me feel that my life was finally complete. As Mitra and I basked in the warmth of having Aditya around, we didn’t much notice or bother too much about him slowly wedging between us. Once in a while, I did miss the conversations that Mitra and I had. And from her eyes, I knew that she missed the special world we two had created for ourselves. But then Adi would shriek or jump in between us, and we were consumed by him. Nothing seemed amiss until that day. It was almost four years since Adi came home.

I had gone on an official visit to meet someone. The meeting was over sooner than I had anticipated. On my way back, it started pouring. Traffic snarls ahead indicated waterlogging under the bridge. That area not being one I frequented, I didn’t want to risk getting my wheels buried in the muck. So, I parked and went in search of a café for a brief respite from the rain.

A man and a woman were sitting in a cafe. I didn’t know who they were until the woman turned around, and I saw it was my wife. Mitra didn’t notice me. They were intent in conversation, and I didn’t feel like intruding. I quickly settled in a place where she couldn’t see me, but I could keep her in view. My attention went to the person she was with. He seemed to be younger than me. He had a good physique and intelligent eyes were framed by his spectacles.

Who was he? Why were they here?

The place was nowhere near Mitra’s office or my office or our home. So, this could not have been a casual meeting, but a planned one. My Ph.D. brain neurons ventured into a logical step by step analysis. He didn’t match any of her friends or colleagues that I was aware of or she had mentioned in the recent past. My look shifted to take them both in. The conversation was mostly one way with the intelligent-looking man speaking. Mitra’s head bobbed up and down and I could imagine her forehead creased in concentration. What was he brainwashing her about?

“Sir, what would you like to have?”

My eyes shifted to the waiter and then quickly glanced at the menu.

More out of habit, I mumbled “Cappuccino King”

When I again looked at their table, I was taken aback to see Mitra sniffing and the guy handing her a tissue. They got up then and the man patted Mitra’s shoulder as they walked out. I wanted to go grab Mitra and ask her what was happening. Just as I was getting up, the waiter appeared with my order and my manners made me sit back and finish my cappuccino.

Mitra usually doesn’t keep anything from me. I waited that night for her to brief me about her visit to the café. I entered the bedroom after steeling myself to broach the subject to her.

“How dare you sneak around me and watch me the whole time?” I could imagine her being livid with me.

Mitra was fast-asleep hugging Adi.

Morning madness prevented us from having any deep conversations. I barely had time to download the Find 360 locator app on her smartphone and mine when she was cooking.

At about the same time as the day before, I couldn’t help myself from checking the app. Her vehicle was still in her office.

As I was about to close the app, the icon started moving indicating that she had left the office.

I kept glancing at the vehicle icon from time to time as I tried to focus on the weekly telecon that was going on.

Mitra’s car was following the route to our home. It stopped. Must be a signal I thought.

Someone asked me something in the telecon and I tapped my laptop to fetch the data for that query. I lost twenty-five minutes in that telecon. When I checked the map again, I found Mitra’s car near the same signal as earlier. I checked the net connectivity of my phone to ensure that it wasn’t frozen. It wasn’t. That means she had stopped mid-way for something.

I zoomed in on the location on the map. It was the parking lot of a supermarket. Then the icon shifted. Her car was now back in the road and moving towards home.

That night when I went home, I missed spotting the fresh groceries. There were none. Mitra was engrossed in Adi’s homework. When she looked up to see me walk in the room, there was consternation amidst concentration in her face. I didn’t get a chance to speak to her that night as well. Before Adi could sleep, her eyes had drooped, and she had fallen into a deep slumber.

Mitra’s supermarket visit continued for the whole weak. I could no longer take it on Friday and arrived at the parking lot of the supermarket a few minutes before Mitra’s likely time of arrival. At the exact time as the day before, she arrived. I was about to get down and follow her into the supermarket.

Wait…where was she going?

Mitra exited the parking lot, out of the supermarket and on to the road. Now I knew why the groceries were missing. She never went to the supermarket.

Mitra entered a building next to the supermarket. As I emerged from behind the truck that was hiding me from her, my eyes scanned the display boards.

X-ray Diagnostics was on the first floor. Dr. Yoga Sen, a psychiatrist on the second level, and some speech and hearing institute above that on the third floor.

My Ph. D brain kicked in its logic. Why will Mitra visit a diagnostic lab daily unless she was working there? I knew she wasn’t. And none of us or anyone we knew needed any speech or hearing assistance. So, that could mean that she was visiting the psychiatrist. That would also explain the intelligent-looking man. He must be her shrink. I pressed the second-floor button.

What was wrong with Mitra? How can anything be not right with my wife? She was my wife. My choice. Nothing can go wrong with my choice.

I walked into Dr. Yoga Sen’s clinic. The receptionist smiled at me.

“Ms Yoga will come in a few minutes, Sir. Please wait.”

“Ms Yoga?”, I dumbly repeated after her. Who was the intelligent-looking man then?

“Is there any other doctor consulting right now?”

“No Sir. She is the main and only consulting doctor here.”

My eyes searched the waiting area. Mitra wasn’t there.

“Do you have a visitor by the name Mitra?”

The receptionist looked at me quizzically but scrolled down the list in her monitor.

“No Sir. None by that name.”

I thanked her and climbed down one floor to the diagnostics.

“Do you have a patient by the name of Mitra?

“No Sir.”

“Where’s the waiting area?” Is Mitra accompanying anyone or visiting someone working in the diagnostics then?

The receptionist pointed. I scanned the area she indicated. Mitra was missing.

That could mean only one thing. I climbed up to the third floor and went inside the speech and hearing institute. At the entrance, I was guided by a board to remove my footwear. It was then I noticed Mitra’s sandals.

There was a hollow feeling as I entered the clinic and saw the intelligent-looking man’s photo on the display corner. The certificate next to it said, Dr Mangesh Roy. It all pointed to an affair now, as I just couldn’t understand why Mitra will have to visit a speech and hearing institute daily. Just then my eyes fell on Dr. Roy’s specialization in the certificate…cognitive therapist or whatever.

I walked up to the lady at the front desk and mumbled “Mitra?”

She raised an eyebrow and said, “Aditya’s mom?”

That question was like a splash of cold water on my face. Somehow, I managed to nod my head. How did she know Mitra was Adi’s mom and why bring up Adi when I asked Mitra?

“And may I know who you are Sir?”

“Adi’s father”

She pointed to a room with a door that had a board with Dr. Mangesh Roy’s name on it. As I neared that door, I could hear Dr. Roy saying:

“Ms. Mitra. You are doing extremely well. Keep up this motivate and reward technique when you teach Adi. But now we need to include Adi’s father also in this program. Adi needs both your attention and similar teaching methods.”

I was about to knock but stopped at Mitra’s voice.

“My husband is a high achiever Doctor. He may not like to acknowledge that Adi has mild autism or his learning challenges. He has major dreams and goals for Adi when he grows up.”

I went cold. Time seemed to stop still.

I couldn’t believe life’s ironies. Father a doctor, and son a challenged person? This was not fair.

But then I wasn’t a cribber at all. I always believed in remediation.

The receptionist’s phone and her voice jolted me to action. I knocked at the door, turned the handle, opened the door, walked inside resolutely and sat next to a surprised Mitra, who had gone pale at seeing me. I extended my hand to Dr. Roy.

“Hello, Doctor. I am Adi’s father. What should I do to help Adi with his learning?”

As Dr. Roy shook my hand, my other hand clasped Mitra’s reassuringly.

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