The maid

Chapter 21: Torn

Well.

He was depressed. Torn between his family and love. And after what his fiance just told him in anger, he was torn between right and wrong too. Because now, he wasn't able to decide if lying to himself all his life was right or wrong.

His feelings were not on par with where he needed them to be. His heart wasn't making it easy for him either and even his head was telling him that he was the biggest idiot ever at that point. If he only listened to himself at that moment, he knew that he would be out of that place and back in Goa within the next few hours.
But then, he turned his head and found his sister brimming with joy as she held up two expensive sarees in front of his face.

" This one or this one, bhai!? See. I think the pink one goes with the jewelry but I yellow in the in color and I really want to wear this too!" the innocent look in her eyes and that bright smile over her face. He had always known that he could always do everything for her joy but at that moment, even smiling at her immature antics was getting hard. Still, he tried his best managed to smile thinly at her and his disconcertment regarding the wedding.
" Arre! Don't trouble your brother about such futile things! Show me, I'll help you," and no matter how much his mother helped him get out of situations he didn't want to be a part of, she could not get him out of the marriage. Nor could he, for her sake be happy in a marriage he didn't wish to be tied down in.

So, he decided to busy himself with his thoughts. He decided to zone out in a saree shop.
His eyes kept stumbling across finely draped, exaggeratedly shiny array of bright, colorful clothes. All ranging from wedding collections to normal, cotton wear of sarees, lehengas, and other Indian traditional wear. Present in every color and every design you could think of, his poor mind thought that he could distract himself using them. But, all his mind could think about now was how she would look in each one of them. How the cloth would be hugging her perfect curves and how she would be smiling if he were to gift her any one of those pieces of art.

And then, his conscience started laughing at him as he began imagining her standing in front of him in a particular red, bridal lehenga. Laughing at his hopeless effort at trying to get her out of his mind. He was only falling much more in love by every moment of sitting among those bunch of women who couldn't talk about anything but the marriage that he was being chained into by his own guilty conscience. Because he kept seeing her. Had decided to not even think of her name but, now he saw one of the women holding up a light blue saree, and immediately, her blue eyes came into his mind. Like the blue waves of the vast ocean, moving till eyes could see, her blue eyes had captivated his heart till your mind could guess.

But, he quickly looked away from them and turned his eyes to a different corner of the shop. Didn't understand why he needed to be there at that moment, but just hearing women giggling around him was giving him a deja vu feeling of her giggling. And then, his eyes stopped on a particular woman. A maid, sweeping the floor.

Why? Why was God doing that to him? Why was he reminded of her in every literal thing that he set his eyes on? Why was he missing her so much? Why was he torn?
It would have been so much easier if he had never fallen in love at all. But seeing that woman sweep the floor only seemed to remind him of a woman who once cleaned his room in the morning and dirtied his bed in the night. Seeing her brown hair fall in front of her eyes only reminded him of a woman whose brown hair was once incarcerated behind his broad hands. That brown hair that once loved dancing in his fingers were enough indication for anyone to know of her presence in the room.

" Auntie... I think this one is good. No?" his eyes moved once again. This time, to gape at a woman whose smile was as big as her ego. A woman whom he couldn't see behind the image of his love. A woman for whom, he was trying to replace his love. But it was hard. Especially when he saw his darling maid wearing that red, bridal lehenga instead of her in front of everyone.
" Yeah," he was smitten. Not because she looked pretty, but because he knew that it would look good over the girl he had given his heart to. He agreed almost immediately, making the women giggle at his lusty behavior not because he was interested in the bride who wore the dress. It was rather because he was interested in the imagination that was projected in front of his eyes by his sick heart.
" Sohit. Chill your horses. Seriously," great. And now, she was blushing.

His little episodes there, of imagining that his lover was in front of him was causing a lot of confusion in his life. Almost made him feel at a point that he was really marrying her. But soon enough, the world from his hopeful imagination went away and all he could see was a shy woman blushing hard as she tried her best to avoid eye contact with him. He fucked up there. Shouldn't have opened his mouth at all because now he knew. She had hope. And he. He was still hopeless about even thinking of loving her. It wasn't right on her... Maybe he should have had that talk with her when she came to see him a few nights ago but now, it was already too late... There was no way out of the marriage for him anymore.