Reunion

My dearest,

It has been so long since we met that your face fades from my memory. In any case, time and age must have changed you, as they have me. I wonder if we would recognize each other now?

I count the days. Now, at the very end of our separation, time seems to crawl. The days are overlong and the nights are endless. I distract myself all day with plans for our future. And all night I remember the past.

Is it the same for you, dearest? Do you mark time waiting for our reunion? Or have you nearly forgotten me and our love? Has duty bound you so tightly that there is no room for dreams? Have you learnt to think only of what you must do, what you ought to do, and have no time to think of what you want to do?

The promise I gave you binds me too. I have learnt much in these years. I will not claim that they have all been bleak, joyless years. I have found satisfaction in work well done, in service and compassion to those in my care.

You know this, because I have taken care to tell you. You know that your mother is well, even though she has never got over the shock of losing your father. Your brothers and their wives and children visit us often. They accord me all the same love and respect that they give you.

But can I tell you something? There are days when I look at all of them and feel not the contentment of duty fulfilled or the gratitude for being respected. I feel resentful, alone and angry.

In the spring of my youth you abandoned me. I know it was for duty. I know it was for a greater, more purposeful love. I know it was not for another woman, or to pursue any material or personal goal. I know all that, in my head. But my heart? It is broken and hurt and bewildered all the same. When I cry myself to sleep and there is no one to wipe my tears, it is hard to care why. And I know that when you come back, I will still have to stand in line. I will be the last one you will notice. Because when everyone else is hugging you with joy and laughter, I will hang back with tearful eyes. Who knows if they will be tears of joy, or of pain?

But know this. My life has been on hold, and there is so much I want us to do and be together.

Waiting

Love, Tina

She folded the letter carefully. Put it in an envelope. Sealed it and addressed it in her neat handwriting. Then she put it aside.

It was time to turn in. She would be up at 6 in the morning, getting tea and breakfast. Then there would be lunch to cook and pack. By 8 she would be on her way.

Life had turned out so different from what she had expected. At 20, just out of college, she had dreamt of romance. Roses and moonlight, walks on the beach and running hand in hand through the woods.

She had felt so lucky and blessed when Ravi had come to "see" her and they had instantly fallen in love. The next six months, planning her wedding, preparing her trousseau, attending bridal showers...had passed in a haze of bliss. The wedding itself, silks and jewels and flowers and music had seemed like a golden dream.

They had been so happy. Her parents-in-law had been kind and affectionate. Ravi's brothers had been like her own. And then Ravi had been posted to the border. It was supposed to be a short stint, and she had stayed back with his family, expecting to join him soon.

Then war had broken out, and there had been no communication. The whole family had assiduously read, heard and seen every report on the border skirmishes, but the war had dragged on and on.

Ravi's father had fallen ill and died a year into the war. The mother and daughter-in-law had been drawn closer in their shared anguish. Tina had found a job in the local store. Life had gone on. The fear and dread and hope had faded to a kind of background ache that did not intrude upon the daily business of living.

That had been 5 years ago. With no way of knowing if Ravi even received the letters she first lovingly and then dutifully she wrote every week, Tina had given up waiting for a reply.

But out of the blue, last week had come the letter. Ravi had been debriefed and was returning home. She was looking forward to his return. Of course, she was. She should be ecstatic. Of course, she was ecstatic.

She looked up at her reflection as she sat absently brushing her hair. She looked older, she realised, than her 28 years. There was already a hint of grey in her hair. Her eyes looked tired, and her lips did not turn up so readily. Would Ravi still find her attractive? Would he mind that she had cut her hair? Would it matter that she wore more traditional clothes now than the jeans and skirts she had favoured once? Would Ravi want her to give up her job? ....

She was still asking herself all these questions as she stood at the airport waiting for Ravi to arrive. Peering anxiously into the stream of alighting passengers, she was conscious of a strange nervousness. And then she saw him!

Ravi looked different too. His once rich hair had receded a little. His eyes that had seen so much looked strangely older. But his confident stride was the same. And the smile that lit his face as he finally saw Tina was the same heart-stopping upward kick of his lips she remembered.

All her doubts, all her fears, all the years melted away in the rush of love and relief. Not only her husband, her precious love had come back to her. Now at last, as she looked into his eyes and touched that beloved face, she was whole again.

She waited, quiet and smiling as he touched his mother's feet before hugging her, as he thumped his brothers on the back and cracked jokes, as he picked up his little niece and played with his nephew.

This was love, too. When he was away, she had resented the thought of sharing him on his return. But now she was content to watch him, exchanging little smiles that promised their time alone would come.

Later they would talk about how he too had suffered the same doubts. How the lonely years had hurt. How much he had wanted to be with her, to comfort and be comforted. And the pain would recede further.

The same circumstances might arise again to test them. But now they knew they would pass. Because they had both learned that love was more than holding hands and moonlit beaches. Love was doing whatever needed doing to keep the other safe. Love was taking on your spouse's responsibilities. Love was waiting and keeping the faith.