Unkindled Love

Chapter 27

Gautami looked at the sea with sorrow and bewilderment. The grief that was in her heart was as deep as the ocean. Despite her arguments and her tears he hadnot listened to her.

She sat on a chair and felt as if all her energy had drained out.What had she achieved in her life, she asked herself.

She had done everything for Abhyudaya but he had not noticed her sincerity; he did not value her sacrificesfor him.

He had told her that his time was very valuable.Yes, he would definitely grow in stature and rise to a more prominent position over a period of time.

But what about her? She had to live like his shadow all the time. She wouldn't have any identity of her own. Her life would be that of a planet which shines with reflected light, rather than that of a star which radiates its own light.

She also remembered the way he had sneered at her, The whole world says that you are more intelligent than me. You think over it and whatever you feel is right, go ahead and do it.

Indeed, what had she really achieved in life? Nothing. A big zero. If they had children, things might have been a bit better.

Even if Abhyudaya spent all his time in office, she could spend her time with the children. But Abhyudaya had rejected the idea of adoption too. Maybe even if they had children, Abhyudaya would have sent them to a boarding school like Harish had done.

One could never know how Abhyudaya's mind would work. She thought about her life ten years hence, and shivered. She had always disliked being dependent on anyone.

Living like this was worse than death to her. Gautami tried to analyse her feelings. What could make her happy? Her husband's love, and history.

Since her husband had made his feelings clear, only history remained. She thought of her college days. Not for a single day was she unhappy.

In spite of getting all those gold medals, being offered a scholarship By Professor Collins and the opportunity to go and study abroad, she had rejected them all because she was madly in love with Abhyudaya.

She had voluntarily closed all her career paths. She now felt that her greatest shortcoming was that she was not ambitious. Had she been so, perhaps today she would have become a leading historian of the country . . .

Her mother Kamala's words sprang up in her mind. When the topic of marriage was raised, her mother had said to her that her in-laws would never love her and Abhyudaya would never treat her better than his people. Is it not true that blood is thicker than water? 

Abhyudaya's love had evaporated like water froma cup. Now the cup was empty, and so was her heart. How true had been her mother's prediction! 

Gautami remembered telling Abhyudaya a few times that his mother always bought the cheapest of gifts for her, but for Suhana she would buy things worth thousands! And Abhyudaya had laughed and said, 'You have more than enough, Gautami, why should my poor mother give you any gift!' 

Abhyudaya would never understand that a gift is not measured by its price, rather by the feelings behind it.

When Gangakka would give her anything, she would purposely keep the price tag on and in front of outsiders she would say, 'Anyway, she is childless and my son is a pot of gold to her. He listens to everything she says and asks for . . .'

Only Gautami knew how shrewd Abhyudaya was and how he made people think that he was a joru ka ghulaam, a slave of his wife.

It was always his decision that prevailed over hers. Why blame others if they believed it? When her husband did not care for her, why would anybody else?

Abhyudaya's words kept going round and round in Gautami's head. You think over it and whatever you feel is right, go ahead and do it. Abhyudaya had never used such words before. She had always thought that Abhyudaya was proud of her intelligence. So why had he talked like that? Was it to hurt her? If that was so, then why should she remain here?

A house is made up of just four walls but a home is where there is love, affection and a meaningful relationship.

When that was not there it was only a house, and the best thing was to get out of it. But where could she go? She could not go back to Hubli and make her mother unhappy.

The only way for her was to go somewhere she would feel comfortable. 

Gautami had always enjoyed the academic atmosphere and the company of teachers in the University.

The only option left was to become a student once again.

Even today, Indian history was at her fingertips. All the facts, dates, events were fresh in her mind. When she read any book on history her concentration was as good as Abhyudaya's was in computers.
She remembered Professor Collins and his last visit. Probably he had made his offer to her because he had sensed her futile existence.

Gautami got up, took a pen and started writing to Professor Collins. She did not mention a word about her personal problems. She stated how studying history had always made her happy . . . The letter exceeded two pages.

At the end she wrote, 'Sir, your love for history is not affected by your age. A person like you is always a role model. It would be an honour for me to work under you. The time has come now. I want to do my doctorate. But Sir, without a scholarship, I cannot come. I believe economic independence is one of the most important components of freedom. Kindly let me know your opinion.
Please convey my regards to Dorothy.'

By the time she finished, it was long past midnight. Gautami felt calm and at peace. She slept.

The next morning she went and posted the letter herself.