It Wasn't Supposed To Happen

14

He was about to storm off before he said something they would all regret. It was Bondita's birthday tomorrow. He didn't want to ruin the very purpose of them visiting but he sooo wanted to scoop Bondita up and leave from here this instance !

He felt thakuma following out.
" I am sorry" the apology was sincere. She didn't want him to leave his plate half finished this way. He was not only her guest but the family's jamai babu.

He just tried to concentrate on a painting behind her to stop himself from bursting.
" But she is growing now. She must know her place." He was now looking at her, with all the disbelief he felt. She read him. " She is my grand daughter, my  own blood. I want what is best for her."

"And you think her wiping my feet is what is best for her ?"

" The very reason she is beside you right now is because she once made a decision to stay at your feet." This shut him up.
" You do remember you your self brought a second wife." He shut his eyes so tight he could feel tears forming. " You say she is too young to feel such worldly pains but you already have abandoned her on more than one occasion. Now...tell me...jamai babu. What should I do to safe guard the future of my daughter ?"

" I..I did what I had to do for her own..."
" And what if you decide to do something like this again for her own good ?  Your fitoor is well known to have no bounds. What if you once again decide to put distance between both of you in liu of some other social agenda of yours ? In that situation she should know to accept her place in a small corner of your big haveli instead of holding on to her pride and choosing the path of self respect. You must know it holds no good in real world. You know what would happen to her if she ever decided to leave the shelter of your shadow. You have done it to her before, results were not good."

She had genuine worry in her eyes for her grand daughter. He could, for the first time, realise her point of view. And looking at her right now he knew he had failed miserably. Failed in being a husband who respected his wife, who took care to never hurt her, to give her a place she deserved.
In the eyes of Bondita's family, he was just a man who took his wife for granted and changed the paradigm of his relationship as and when deemed fit, not taking into consideration that he was exposing his wife to the wrath of society while doing so.

He was even worst than such a common man, at least the others didn't boost around giving lectures on how one must treat their wives.
He could not stand there anymore, he could not face thakuma. He was her culprit. His feet on their own accord moved towards his room leaving thakuma behind. What could he say to her...?

Nothing...

His heart got heavier with each step he took forward and by the time he closed the doors of the room behind him and leaned on it, he had tears wetting the front of his kurta and his heart.

There had not been a day when he had not felt the weight of his actions.

His silly, futile attempts to bring Bondita back on the right track.

Now that he looked back, he felt nothing but shame. Shame. He had not just wronged Bondita but his own principles. He neither could look at Bondita nor in a mirror without thinking how distasteful his actions had been.

And he could trace it back all to the one point when he snapped. The moment he saw Bondita sliping off the cliff that day. It felt like it was his life dangling there. It quite literally was true.

How could she...? How could she...? Just trying to gamble away her life for some shallow notions of attraction and approval from her husband ?

He moved towards his bed and sat down on the edge. She was no ordinary girl, had he not told her that. Had he not told her that she carried the weight of creating a society every girl deserved. They both did not have the privilege of thinking of such selfish motives. He for once had tried to not be selfish.

Yes, he had fallen for Manorama. Her passion, her head strong nature and her beauty. He fell hard. It didn't surprise him either. Who would not...? He, for the first time in a long while, had peeked into his heart, it was still beating. At that point of time all he was doing was fighting... fighting to show he could take responsibility of Bondita, fighting his kaka that he could not provide him with an heir, fighting the society which was hell bent on turning his wife into an actual wife material and fighting his life source, his Bondita, trying to show her why everyone around her was wrong.

Among all this, sitting out of that hut, with lightly blowing wind hitting his face , thinking of Manorama had been his only solace. An escape, if you could call it that. It had been a long time since he felt something that reminded him that he too had a heart. And that taking a break from all this was not a crime.

That thought used to make him smile.

The smile that was so wrongly interpretated by his naive wife. The fact that his little happiness had been the start of the downfall of every thing good in Bondita's life still ate him.

But she had hurt him. She had promised him she would do everything to be a good example to the women of the society but had herself became their over exaggerated version. How it had pained him.

She might as well have stabbed him in the heart.

And now looking back at all he did, he deserved it.

He deserved it for hurting her. He deserved it for wanting to hurt her. Yes, at some point, some really really low point, he did want to hurt her.

He had fallen for Manorama and had given up the opportunity to marry her when she first put up the proposal. For what...?
For Bondita to spill water all over his sacrifice. Yes, the pain it caused him to say no to Manorama, he did for once, just once, termed it as a sacrifice for Bondita's future. And what had she done ? She was doodling names. It had irked him to a point where he wanted to hurt Bondita.

He had realised it too late. Late enough to not be ever able to trace back his disastrous steps.

He pressed his palms to his eyes, tears still making their way out. How could he think so lowly of his Bondita. How could he, even unknowingly, think of hurting her.

" You are my sansar" it was maybe the first time in his life he had felt proud of himself. Someone had acknowledged him for what he did and not what he was.
He was not a zamindar,a barrister, a heir to multitudes of property, a social reformer for his sweet, sweet Bondita..no...
None of it.

He was her pati babu. The word meant sansar to her. It now meant for him more than just a way of her addressing him to avoid taking his name.
Now every time she called him pati babu he felt as if she was saying, you are my sansar. After he rescued her from heera mandi, he had established it in his mind and her's too, that he was open to accepting her as his wife to a point where he was responsible for her wellbeing, security, future and social standing in society and no more.

The prospect of openly accepting it became a problem after her menstruation started.

He himself had such a hard time trying to make every one understand that any changes in her body were in no way an invitation to change the way their relationship was. If it was hard for him, how hard would it have been for her ?

Only after all of this cleared up was he actually able to pin point her miseries. How she was the target of the vultures of the society, not him. He remembered sampoorna used to taunt her how she could not give him the pleasures as a wife. It made bile rise up in his throat. Bondita was subjected to humiliation by the society, by her own be sister, by her own family, for things she knew nothing about. How desperate she must have felt, how lonely.

If only he understood it when he still had time. He kept a hand on his heart as if trying to calm it down. He should have been there for her. Did he not promise her that nothing would change after her menstruation ?

Instead of asking her to stop feeling what she was, he needed to tell her why she needed to put them on hold. She needed explanations. All he made her do was question her status.

He didn't want her to make coffee, as good as she made it for him, for others and he had went ahead and brought a woman to share her title. His wife. Could he be more of a dog ?

" Bondita..." His lips whispered. " You don't know what weight over my heart do I get up with every morning. I know you have forgiven me but I know I have done nothing to earn it. You called me your sansar and all I did was light your little happy world on fire. I wish you would punish me, I pray for it, every day... every night..."