The Man I Hardly Knew.

Chapter ten.

Few days later...

The nasty habit of Sheraad: to leave the house mostly every night and not providing an explanation the next day as he comes home drunk and drugged continued. I no more bother to ask or eavesdrop about what happened when his father questions him about it. If his phone rings, I let it ring till Sheraad comes to get it himself. Besides, these days he has been on the phone more than he has been to office. Recently, Sheraad had left his home-made Tiffin at home. When mother in law ordered me to bring it to him in his office, surprisingly I discovered that he had not come to the office since morning. I ignored it and did not even care to inform the in laws about it. Because, one thing for a fact is certain that his parents are conscious about each moves of Sheraad- just that they do not tell him anything or they simply camouflage his errs like the mother in law had told me: "We should only cover and recover the men's mistakes. The family's reputation lies in the hands of the females and not the males." Some nights I sleep alone. While other nights, I am given the job of entertaining his nights and warm his bed.

Disconcerted, I turn around as someone pats away my thoughts with his tap on my shoulder. 
"Ma'am do you want a drink?" the waiter asked. 
"Huh? Oh no.. no.. Thank you." I stammered. 


Sometimes I am amazed at my own thinking powers. They always indecently take me for a ride in the most inappropriate setting. If those voices are left unchained, they will create chaos in this life. Today, indecently again they have taken me somewhere else while physically I am at a business party: one of the most prominent events of Sheraad's life. I must be the worst wife ever because I cannot even stay here for a second to celebrate my husband's grand event. But what can one do when her husband is not even with her and she is left alone sitting in a corner?

 The party has been flawlessly arranged. The lights have specially been exhibited: sometimes red, sometimes yellow or sometimes white. The tables have been vigilantly topped with red ribbons on each side of the table cloth. The shinning white plates with aluminum forks and spoons lie just next to them while being scrutinized by the dancing lights. On small-sized tables, colored decorative candles struggle to stay alive amidst the intricate designs. From the right backside of the locale, one cannot overlook the nice odor of the Indian food being served to the other guests who decided that dinner should be the first thing on list, even before waltzing. The floor is occupied by diverse grand personalities, all smartly dressed as per the dress code. Who would have dared transgress the dress rules on such a grand event anyway? The men are fully suited up in lavish black and white tailored suits with red tie as topping. The women are graciously clothed in long red evening dress with hanging matching earrings for the highlight. Apparently, red will be the new logo of the company and thus the dress code was set as such. I have not been given proper information about this party. I was only told that this is one of Sheraad's most important events and that I should be there for him: well I guess mum in law meant like a flower pot placed to the back corner of the setting, unnoticed and uncared for.

 I scan through the crowd looking for the man, Sheraad. Rummaging through the crowd, my eyes detect him. Waltzing among people with a woman glued to his body, eyes lost in each other, he becomes fluorescent in the audience. He violently turns the woman to him with her back enclosed to his chest. I notice the woman. From a distance, her pencil-thin eyebrows mollifies down to her charcoal dark eyelashes. Her long Elie Sahaab's evening red dress sways all throughout the dance floor. Spools of her dark-kohl hair plunge around her fair-skinned face and hide a swan's neck: graceful and smooth. She is definitely one of the most beautiful women you will ever come across. He puts his hands around her waist and whispers something in her ears. His lips said: "I adore you." And the woman swiftly but graciously turns to him and sensually slides her Venus-red finger nails through his cheeks and smiles her drowsy smile. Sheraad's nostrils convulse; his lips twined back in a repulsive grin while he whispers: "Tomorrow" and with her flashing eyelids, she says: "yes." Her smooth right leg sneaks out of her split dress as Sheraad lifts it and attaches it to his thigh. He slides his hand through her split dress while she gives a dirty grin. 
"Look. He has his hands through her dress," a voice says to me. 
"It's a sensual music playing. And everyone has exchanged dancing partners at this party. Must be normal. Don't bother me," I say to the voice in my head. 
"She is his mistress," it whispers again. 
Abnormally incensed at those words, interlocking my fingers severely, I ask it to shut up and leave me alone. I cannot fathom one thing. Why am I so bothered about him? Why did I vex at the idea of him having a mistress? He is the beast and beasts are not expected to keep their promise of loyalty. Infidelity should have been part of those black deeds expected and inscribed on the list. So why is it an issue? I always somehow knew that he was involved in those things right? So, I just have to be normal. Be normal Rose. Be normal. Breathe.