Nevertheless, She Persisted!

‘Wake up, here is your tea,’ Kavisha chirped.

As she moved the curtain to allow the sun to peek, I rolled over to the other side of the bed. The freezing temperature of Delhi was already taking a toll on my health and hocking phlegm had become a normal routine. Inspite of that Kavisha never let me sleep till late. The maid has come- she would always say and force me out of bed. In our three years of marriage I had realized one thing that she was eccentric. She wanted things in order. She wanted cupboards to be clean. She wanted chores to be done on time. And if by any chance things were not according to her will, she would start working on them almost immediately. Her habit irked me. Always. 

It was a Sunday when all this began. Having slogged for one whole week, my body was low on energy and high on emotions. With each ray of the sun I could feel the warmth over my blanket. But the light blinded my vision. Squinting my eyes when I looked for Kavisha, I accidentally punished the poor cup that was placed on the side table. With the steaming tea splattered over my hand, I jumped out of bed and hurried to the bathroom to put my hand under the running water. 

‘Why on earth would you keep the cup on that table everyday?’ I barked.

‘It is already 8 o’ clock. The maid has come and she needs to clean the room. Since you came home tired, I thought a cup of tea will refresh your mind and body,’ slurred Kavisha.

‘I think one extra hour of sleep would have done just the same.’

Kavisha left the room. She wasn’t angry; I think she had become used to my outbursts which had become more frequent recently. 

I went out and saw her running behind my younger son with a glass of milk. What big deal, I thought! She is always badgering him to do things he doesn’t like!

‘Kavisha, I am hungry. Are you going to let us all starve because you have another agenda in mind?’ I taunted. 

‘One moment. It is ready. I will serve in a moment,’ she panted.

By that time my elder daughter had come down for breakfast as well. There was something strange about her. Her hair was unkempt; she was still in her night suit and had not even brushed her teeth. 

‘Now what’s with you? Why haven’t you changed?’ I inquired.

‘Why? Am I supposed to?’ she countered.

‘Is this how you talk to your father?’

‘Effect of the same genes, I guess.’

Fuming with rage, I rushed towards the kitchen and stared at my wife right in the eye. 

‘Is this what you do the whole day? Teach the kids how to disrespect elders?’

She didn’t say a word. This was not something new. Anything that went beyond my control had to be, by default, blamed at Kavisha. She had retaliated in the past. But I had never paid any heed to her explanations.

The day wasn’t going well for either of us. I grabbed the newspaper and found a comfortable spot in the verandah. The warmth was just sufficient to cease my shivering. Kavisha brought my breakfast outside. We did not even exchange any glances. Within no time I had finished my poha and had read the first half of the newspaper. Before I turned to the next page, my eyes were at stalk, for I saw my wife’s name. May be it is someone else, I thought. But to my utter dismay, it was my wife’s name. I understood that she was awarded the ‘noble citizen’ award for the year because of her charitable work. I knew she had been teaching the poor children for quite some time, but never in my wildest imagination had I visualized her being acknowledged.

I folded the paper and got up pretending that nothing had happened. Our Sunday was mostly spent in finishing household chores or watching TV. Kavisha asked me after an hour to check if the vegetable vendor had come. I ignored. She asked me again after ten minutes and I persisted. Finally, she left the unwashed clothes and hurried to the balcony to check. But still, she didn’t say a word. I saw her grabbing the basket and wearing her slippers. Wondering where she was off to, I croaked,

‘Where are you going?’

She didn’t answer. I resumed being a couch potato. My younger child came running to me and urged me to change the channel. 

‘Why don’t you read something. TV is bad. Papa bought a nice book for you last week. Where is that?’

‘Oh yes! But I don’t know where that is. Can you help me find it?’ he asked.

‘I will come in a while. Till then why don’t you go and search in your cupboard?’

And I forgot all about the book. Minutes later, Ravi (my son) came running with the newspaper in his hand.

‘Mummy is in the paper, mummy is in the paper,’ he shouted at the top of his voice.

‘What, really?’ interrupted Kavisha.

‘Why would mummy be in the papers?’ I smirked.

But then she saw the photograph. She was exhilarated.

‘You know how I have been teaching these kids for a while now. The society decided to nominate my name for the ‘Noble Citizen’ award. I won. Isn’t it exciting?’

‘If only I had some free time, I would have also done some charity work. You should dedicate this win to me. Only if you stepped out of the house and worked like me, you would understand what life really has to offer,’ I snorted.

She did not say anything. Later that day, I went downstairs for a walk and met Mr Mehta, who resided in the same building. He was all admiration for my wife. And I could not take that.

‘It is not such a great thing. She has desires to do things that never cross her mind when the sun is in the sky. Had she told me about it, I would have helped her get this award long ago,’ I explained. 

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