6 Ritu in this little town of Gorakhpur

A Short Story

Author- Kumar Padmanabh

From where I should start, I don’t know. I am not sure whether I should pen it down. I am also not sure whether I will be able to translate all my internal conflicts into proper words which have been tearing me apart. There is chaos of thoughts in my mind overwhelming me every moment. I am tired, exhausted and completely drained out, now. I know no one would understand me.

This is a story about me and this beautiful lady Ritu. Most of the people of her neighborhood have forgotten that real name of Ritu is actually Rituparna Pandey. It has been three years now but she is still a subject of gossips in the neighborhood. She has been cornered, ignored and isolated.

Yes, it started from our respective childhood. However, I have a very weak memory about Ritu’s childhood. All I know is my father and her father was best friends. They studied together. They were lucky to get government job in Indian Railways in this dusty and crowded city of Gorakhpur where every third person of the town work for India Railways. Unlike their colleagues they bought houses during their early days and decided to settle together in the same neighborhood. They married together and had their children around the same time. Elder brother of Ritu is of my age.

After my schooling I seldom stayed in this city. I have a vague memory of Ritu. When I was in highschool she was in standard six. I remember when we were playing cricket in our street; she used to beg us to allow her to play in one of the team. Her own brother who was my classmate did not want her to join any team. However, many a time I considered her pleading and inducted into my team. I used to put her as a third man. She was happy doing job of third man. She had only two conditions that when ball would go to the dirty water, she would not take it out and people would do a one bounce balling to her, always. Many a time, I could not accommodate her. When she would not get chance to play cricket, she would go to the nearest golgappa shop on her new bicycle and eat six golgappa from the pocket money that she would have accumulated. When in financial crisis, she would manage with just three golgappa. I remember many a time she would get scolding from her mother for playing cricket in her school uniform. My friends including her own brother would always oppose her playing cricket with us. Because when her best friend Neha would come to see her, she would ditch us to go ahead and play Ludo with her in her living room.

I don’t know anything about Ritu beyond this. Immediately after intermediate I was selected in NIT and went on to study Engineering from Thrichy. Ritu’s elder brother also got selected in Engineering and he got admission in Durgapur. Email was not so popular in those days; neither was any social networking prevailing at that time. We were returning home twice a year during semester break and then we were updating about ourselves. Ritu was never a part of our discussion. Yes, when her father expired in an accident, I wrote a consolation letter to her brother. At that time I think she would have been in class ninth.

Barring above mentioned facts Ritu was never part of my life. I finished my engineering and then I went to US for higher studies. Brother of Ritu also followed me. Although we were studying in different universities however we were meeting occasionally. When either of us would come home we would carry gifts of other. Ritu was never part of that also. 

Since my father was the best friend of Ritu’s father, he had additional responsibility of Ritu’s family. Immediately after my higher studies I got a very good job in Bangalore. There were lots of opportunities in India also. Bangalore was flourishing with startups. I decided to settle in Bangalore. However Ritu’s brother did not return to India. He got a very good job in California. He had only one responsibility “Ritu”.

Ritu’s mother had a high opinion about me and she thought she would not get a better groom for her. She told this idea to my father, who readily accepted it. Finally she insisted Ritu’s brother to approach me. During his last visit to India, Ritu’s brother came to Bangalore. He requested me to consider her. In last 7 years, my opinion about Ritu did not change. Whenever I thought about her, a school girl playing gully cricket as a thirdman or going to nearest golgappa shop on her bicycle and ditching all my friends for Ludo was coming into my mind. I did not saw her since long. This marriage proposal was appearing very funny to me. I sent her brother home without giving my verdict. When I came to Gorakhpur in holiday, my parents insisted me to see her. My father was performing duty from both the sides, he was taking responsibility of his deceased friend and of course as my father.

After so much of earnest request from her brother and my parents especially my father, I decided to meet her. I strictly told my father that after seeing her my verdict would be final and I insisted him to also take opinion of Ritu.

When I went, she was well prepared appearing in a peacock green saari. She was appearing stunningly beautiful, meticulously designed dense hair, with her wide forehead and with her big and deep eyes. It was not a zero size, rather she was appearing realization of deity of khajuraho with hints of grace present everywhere. It was a mesmerizing moment for me. I was wondering how a young girl who played thirdman in her school uniform, who was going to golgappa shop on her bicycle and who once preferred Ludo over cricket would turn into such a beautiful maiden. From a lower middleclass I evolved into a highly paid MNCs employees with an degree from top American universities. Professional success of a young man is incomplete without a beautiful wife. Ritu would be most precious feather in my cap. She was appearing to me a trophy to be won and to be displayed to the world.

After two rounds of tea, in the presence of my parents and her mother, I could not stop myself. I said, “If Ritu agrees, I would like to marry her”. In response to my words, I have seen her fleeing to other room. Her mother followed her. I overheard her mother asking, “do you also like him, do you have any problem marrying him”. I further overheard her mother asking Ritu, “why are you crying”. After this Ritu did not return back to the living room. A lower middle class Indian girl of marriageable age, can cry for anything. They can obviously cry when they are sad, but they would also cry when they become very happy, they can cry when they don’t have any answer and they will also cry when they are feeling shy. Her mother returned back with big smile and thanked my father. She was crying because she was happy and shy both at a time. Ritu’s mother requested my father that wedding should happen as early as possible.

Our neighbourhood

in which both of our families are staying at a distance is vibrant. Most of the people know each other. Very soon this news spread in the locality. Like any other person Ritu and her mother had also friends and foes. While their friends were happy for them, their foes were upset. I was highly successful on professional front therefore many families of my neighbourhood had an eye on me for matrimonial alliances for their own relatives. Each one of them had told my parents separately that they had best offer for me. With confirmation of my marriage, there were many heartbreaks of elderly people. Rumours and gossips started. Mr. Upendra, popularly known as “Master Sahib” who started giving tuition to kids of the neighbourhood, after unsuccessful attempt to get a government job, was also acting as a citizen journalist. Not only the news of our marriage, he also disseminated rumours and gossips. Rumors of already being in relationship. Gossips adjudging our respective character all the time.

But rumours and gossips came to an abrupt end as soon as our marriage ceremony took place. Soon we came back to Bangalore. Ritu’s brother also returned to US and started seeking sponsorship of his green card so that he could take his mother along. My father was happy because his two major responsibilities, marriage of his own son and marriage of the daughter of his deceased friend were settled amicably, happily and without any hassle.

In Bangalore, our life started on a good note. I was happy to discover that like her beauty she also possessed a fine art of cooking. Not only she was a good cook for regular stuffs but she believed in experimenting. She would feel contented whenever see would see a sense of satisfaction in my eyes. I was so happy not only because I started getting very good meal but also because whenever my friends would visit they would always appreciate Ritu for her cooking skill. Whoever visited my home they congratulated me for getting such a beautiful lady as my wife who cooks such a nice meal. Ritu was not at all demanding. She was happy what she was getting. I kept thanking God for giving me such a nice set of things. Good education, good job, beautiful wife who was probably best cook I ever met.

However, this did not last much longer. Ritu was naive and ignorant. She has grown up in different kind of society and mechanism of their understanding was different. Their definition of good and bad were different. She did not like getting mixed with my friends. She was also very apprehensive whenever I was talking nicely to the other ladies, my colleagues or the wives of my friends. She was learning and adapting customs, rituals, manners and day to day activities of metropolitan cities. Therefore I thought with time she will evolve and would learn everything. I kept encouraging her to mix with my friends easily. Initially she registered her protest to travel alone in the car of my friends in my absence then she adjusted, I believe.

She had inherited many things from her city and never got chance to get rid of that. I kept telling her what is inappropriate and what is not. However, she was not upto my expectation. I remember during the last birthday party she asked my colleague why she did not have any child after five years of marriage. I cannot keep telling her every minute detail. In Gorakhpur this question could be absolutely fine but how could she ask such a silly question, in Bangalore? I remember I scolded her in home for asking this question. She cried however to my satisfaction she never objected to my scolding and promised me that she will never repeat it in future.

Then I had to go on a short term trip of three weeks to Europe. She was alone and I kept insisting her to mix with my friends. In the meantime she also joined Facebook and she was following instruction what to like and what to share. However I was particular that she should not live in isolation and use this social media for socialization. It was already 8 months of our marriage and it was beginning of summer, I remember. One of my friends was planning for swimming pool event. He was circulating this message. Some of my other friends were agreeing to join swimming pool event. Ritu agreed to join, she clicked a button and everyone in her friend list got update that she is going to swimming pool.

I was slogging and therefore could not get chance to see Facebook. Along with my friends, Master Sahib, Mr. Upendra in Gorakhpur also got this Facebook update. He kept getting updates that I am visiting Europe. Now he got update that in my absence Ritu is going for swimming with my friends. Master Sahib spoke it in few places and it was spread like a wild fire. Soon this became a news of my neighborhood. My parents also came to know. I returned back to India completely unaware about this.

When I went to office next morning I got call from Master Sahib stating that this was not expected. I was completely oblivious. It took a while for me to understand that Ritu took me granted and agreed to go to swimming pool. Even in Bangalore, this should be a big deal. How can a newly married woman go for swimming with the friends of her husband while her husband is absent? I remember that day. How can I forget it. It was a busy day indeed. While I was boiling from inside, I finished all work and went to home. Ritu was celebrating my arrival and therefore she cooked a nice dinner. She served me first. I ate it nicely without uttering a single word and then went to bedroom.

Real story starts from here. I remember Ritu decorated our bedroom specially. It was nice and tidy. Night lamp was on. Though, I was playing with my smartphone but I was really boiling from inside. How long I can keep forgiving Ritu. Why she is not able to understand good and bads. How long I can keep teaching her like a kid. Beyond displaying her beauty as a trophy I need to live a normal life. How could she agreed to go to swimming pool with my friends in my absence. Enough is enough. I started waiting for her. She came with two bowls of deserts in a tray, that she learnt cooking in my absence. I did not pay attention. She kept the tray on the night stand. I posed as if I am busy. She took out my specks and kept it aside. I did not say anything. I continued with my Smartphone.

She kept watching me with her romantic eyes. Then she snatched my Smartphone also. She said, “don't you see your wife is waiting for you”.

I was furious and did not know how to vent off my anger. I responded, “so now you have started going to swimming pool with my friends, in my absence”.

She said, “Oh Facebook…! Yes… No… Yes… only you said I should mix with your friends”.

“So, I told you to go to swimming pool…”

“No… Yes, “

I kept mum for a while and she was also tightlipped. She came closer to me and tried running her finger in my hair. I leaned backward to avoid her and shouted at her, “Idiot, you are damm idiot”. I turned to other side and switched of the light. She was sitting beside me and she kept waiting. After listening the word “Idiot” probably first time, she was unable to accumulate courage. After fifteen minute or so she laid down beside me. She held me tightly and whispered sorry in my ears.

I was more furious to hear “sorry”. I had been pissed off hearing this word every now and then. So far there was no way I could vent off my anger. She kept holding me tightly, her face were on my neck and her hair was brushing me everywhere. Her closeness was intensifying my anger. I could not keep forgiving her for the rest of my life. I grasped her hand and then jerked it off forcedly. It hit the side table. The tray toppled and both bowls of deserts spilled on the bed and then on the floor. There was a strong sound of hitting her hand against the wooden side table. She immediately went away from me, buried her face in the pillow and started crying. She grasped her left hand which got hurt with her right hand and started comforting it.

I did not hit her. I am against any physical abuse. I wanted to clarify my position. I wanted to see if her hand was hurt seriously. I switched on the light and tried taking out her hand. She protested and started crying as if I really hit her. She kept crying. I switched off the light and thought she will be alright after a while. I went to the other side of the bed and tried sleeping.

Even after one hour she kept crying. I was pissed off. Incidence of swimming pool started ruling my mind once again.

I said, “will you stop this drama, I need sleep”. Though she stopped bemoaning but she took her pillow and went to the couch and tried sleeping there. After another one hour I requested her to return back to bed. She refused. Rather she started crying again. Now it was enough for me. I couldn’t have tolerated her forever. I took my pillow and went to the guest room and slept for the night.

Ritu was clueless. It was I who kept telling her to socialize with my friends and colleagues. She could not understand why I scolded her. She was lady of small town with the understanding that domestic violence happens only in uneducated class. She was adamant. Yes, I did not hit her. Why should I have apologized to her? The net effect was she was sleeping in our master bed room and I was sleeping in the guest room.

I was thinking seriously. How long I could keep teaching her the norms and manners of metro cities. I developed a deep belief that she will never be able to upgrade herself. My efforts were directionless. Why at all I should keep compromising. From a lower middleclass family, I have evolved into highly successful professional by my sheer hard work. I deserved a better life. The beauty and cooking skill of Ritu was appearing an absolute waste for me. This led me to get attracted towards, Maya once again. She was hailing from Lucknow and working as an HR manager in my company. She was smart, beautiful and independent. When I joined this company she was attracted towards me. During those days she did not miss a chance to spend time with me. Her interaction with me did not limited to official work and project parties. She kept inviting me without any reason. Once she almost proposed me. Then brother of Ritu and my father overwhelmed me. I noticed she started maintaining distance when she came to know about my wedding.

With the adamant behaviour of Ritu, I started missing Maya. She would have never put me in this situation where I needed to keep justifying. She would never have asked my colleague why she did not have a child after five years of marriage. Episode of swimming pool would not have been there. She would have been independent. She was earning. She was smart and caring. Yes, she did not cook like Ritu. Then? I would have always hired such a cook. I started feeling that I have done mistake and I needed to correct it. I had the right to live a better life. Once I went to Maya and explained that my marriage was an experiment which failed through miserably. She did not tell me anything immediately but we started talking more often. Then a day came when she proposed me with the condition that I needed to give divorce to Ritu.

Now, I had fun filled life waiting for me and on the other hand I had an uncivilized life partner to handle. On one hand I had a double income to win the world on the other hand I had a big liability of life. On one hand I had a smart person to take care of me on the other hand I had to burden to carry. On one hand I had someone who will take all my responsibilities on the other hand there is someone who will keep burdening me with accountability.

Yes, why should I bother. If Ritu is not improving even after so much of my effort, this is not my problem. I am not there to take burden of the world. Since I achieved everything after so much of my hard work, I have right to enjoy life.

In the meantime our routine did not change. She was sleeping in the bedroom and I was sleeping in the guestroom. After first few days, I did not try going to bedroom. I went, finally to announce my verdict. She was sleeping. I switched on the light and sat near her feet. She woke up and sat. I was calmed and composed. She was shy and trying to squeeze herself. I said, “Ritu we are not compatible to each other. You have difficulty in adjusting in metro cities. Due to me you have to cry so much. Therefore I have decided”.

I paused for a moment. She said, “Yes you are right, I am not up to your expectation, I could not understand you, but I tried my best.”

“Now we have to do something.”

“Yes”, she said.

“Our tastes are different. Our paths are different. Our destinations are different. We cannot move together”, I explained

“Yes”, she was clueless but nodded her head in affirmation.

I said to her, “Please grant me salvation and freedom from your responsibilities. Please allow me to divorce you”.

She could not understand the first few words. But she looked at me with her big eyes for a while in response to the word, “divorce”. But immediately, she said, “who is holding you, you are free. I will not bother you”.

She could not say anything further. She started crying and buried her face in the pillow. I was expecting it. I was not sure whether she could understand what I said to her just now. I was worried whether she took my words seriously and literally. She did not look back to me. I waited for her further reaction. However, since she kept her face buried in the pillow for long, I thought there is no use. I did not have any sympathy with her. For every small things if she resorted to display her tears. Long time back her tears stopped invoking any emotion in me. I went to the guest room to sleep. I thought I will explain everything to her brother. I cannot run my life like this. I had the right to live nicely.

In the guest room, I switched off the light and preparing to sleep. In that process I started planning how to approach her brother. After a while she knocked the room and without waiting for my consent she came inside and switched on the light. First time in my life, I saw her face without any emotions. She said, “Yes, I know I was not up to your expectation. I cannot go to Gorakhpur alone. Please leave me there. I will not come in between your ambition and your life”.

I could not believe separation would be so easy. She did not demand anything. I was well prepared to help her financially. But I did not have to do much for the divorce. She started living in Gorakhpur.

The world reacted to this separation in different ways. The entire neighbourhood of Gorakhpur had all rumours and gossips. Only few of them supported Ritu. Citizen Journalism of Master Sahib was all time high. Brother of Ritu made a statement, “My responsibility was to arrange her marriage. She needed to maintain that marriage.” My father was pissed off. He blindly believed in Ritu and he started blaming me for everything. Many a time he told me that one should not forget his/her roots. After this he stopped talking to me.

After this separation, the plan of the brother of Ritu changed. His mother refused to go to America. Ritu found a new job as a teacher in private school in Gorakhpur. Along with her meager salary and pension of the Ritu’s mother their life moved on.

Back in Bangalore, Maya kept overhearing my stories. Deep inside my mind Maya was an alternative to my marriage and I was dreaming to have her as my life partner. Soon I proposed her and she accepted my proposal readily. Then she started framing the code of conduct of our companionship. She started preparing do’s and don't’s. I thought how systematic she is. Yes with these dos and don'ts one can know how to behave and how not to make one’s life partner suffer. Marriage is a compromise. Both partners need to adjust a little bit and need to value each other opinion. Only slave can blindly follows someone. I started justifying rules, limitations, restrictions and list of dos and donts imposed upon me.

Time passed and a moment came when we pledged to marry. Soon we fixed the marriage. Though I wanted to do it in Bangalore however I had to do it as per the wish of Maya. She was the only daughter of her parents and she wanted to do the wedding in Lucknow.

The news of my remarriage spread in my neighborhood. My father was very upset. He decided that he would not witness this marriage. He decided that he would go on pilgrimage for one month along with my mother. Before leaving for pilgrimage he went to see Ritu. He said to Ritu, “I am the real culprit. I spoiled your life”.

I was informed that first time after her return from Bangalore Ritu cried a lot, she said to my father, “Please take me along on pilgrimage”.

“No, it is not the right age for you for pilgrimage”, my father gave consolation to her that very soon he will find a better groom for her. My father kept cursing me that that I broke such a beautiful marriage. People informed me that Ritu cried inconsolably like a child on that day. Subsequently she locked herself in her house. Her door was opening two times a day when she was going to school to teach and while she was coming back to home. Gossips and rumors stopped in tasteless state because there was no one to react.

Back in Bangalore Maya started planning for our wedding as if there is nothing beyond this. Not only she exhausted her resources but also my bank balances. Professional wedding photographers were arranged. They provided us training how to behave, what to wear and where to stand. Professional fashion designer was consulted for our respective wedding suits. Flowers were imported. Wedding card was custom designed. Everything was arranged with precision of correctness.

Master Sahib did not have a role to play but he was very enthusiastic. He did not let any stone unturned to give updates to Ritu’s mother. When things went beyond tolerance once Ritu started crying. Master Sahib cursed her further that such a wonderful life with me was not written in her destiny. Upon seeing her crying, he blabbered in himself while coming out of her house, “One should not dream beyond what he or she deserves. If she dares this is what would happen”.

Things settled. Arrangement which was meticulously planned started getting executed. I was always in training mode. I keep rehearsing where to stand, at what angle, how to smile to the camera and how to acknowledge the best wishes given by families and friends at the wedding podium. In this entire process somehow I forgot that everythings should be planned to give me pleasure rather than we give pleasure to the world. I never objected to anything. My negotiation values diminished with separation from Ritu. To the world, I was another trophy to be won and displayed for someone else’s pleasure. I started dancing to the tune of Maya. Even my unconscious mind did not protest.

The day of wedding was very hectic. I was surrounded by friends most of whom were not aware of Gorakhpur. Therefore, I had to arrange everything. We had a train bogie booked from Gorakhpur to Lucknow for the guests. Train was supposed to start from Gorakhpur at 01:30PM in the afternoon and was scheduled to reach Lucknow at 06:30PM. I was scheduled to be on the wedding podium sharply at 08:30PM. Maya arranged live telecast of our wedding to her those friends who were unable to attend. There was no way I could afford to miss this train.

Things were happening very fast. All arrangements were made. Finally Pundit came at 12:00 in the noon. He was supposed to do Pooja and rituals for half an hour and then we were supposed to leave our home at 12:30PM. Railways station was just 1.5 KM away from our neighborhood so that we could hear the whistle of the arrival and departure of the trains. It was so close to our neighborhood that we could reach Railway Station in 15 minutes however, I did not want to take any chance; therefore I wanted to reach 45 minutes in advance.

Pundit started rituals. Within few minutes he demanded where is the “Red Paag”. We purchased everything but it was not in our list. Pundit insisted that he could not proceed further without “Red Paag”. Some of our friends were worried. We did not have time to go to market and purchase it. We started discussing about a workaround. Some of my friends suggested to wear other types of turban. The Pandit did not allow.

One of my friend said, “What is the point, we will have two hours in Lucknow, we will buy it there”.

Pundit became furious, “You Guys roamed into the world and learn everything but you forget your own values. Any turbans cannot become a “Red Paag”. Since you guys don’t give values to this, therefore your marriages did not last long”. He was pointing towards my own marriage and blaming me indirectly that I did not respect my own “Red Paag” therefore my marriage did not last.

Very soon discussion about “Red Paag” started. It also disseminated to Ritu’s home at the other end of the street. After a while, since Pundit was not ready to do any work around and when I was still wondering what do, Chikloo a ten years old boy, the neighbor of Ritu came and told me in my ear, “Bhaiya, Ritu Didi want to meet you, it will not take more than two minutes”.

I had still 45 minutes with me. In last three years Ritu never objected to anything. She allowed me to do whatever I wanted to. She did not object even while signing on the divorce paper. I knew she will not create any drama at this moment. Immediately after hearing the message of Chikloo, I went to see Ritu.

Oh, I did not realize I was coming to her home after two and half years. Door was kept open and I went straight to the living room. In the north east corner of the living room there was a place for worship. I found Ritu was performing Pooja. I was wearing pant, shirt and wedding tie. Coat of the wedding suit was absent. There was a vermilion teeka on my forehead. I did not need to wait beyond few seconds. Ritu came immediately. She was in cream color saree with golden border that I purchased for her from Kerala. Her hair was open and spread. Few droplets of water were still there on her forehead making her appear fresh. Vermillion on her forehead was spread more than what she could actually put on. She was appearing more beautiful than ever.

I was expecting Ritu would be depressed and she would cry. However, to my surprise she was smiling. I could not understand Ritu. When she was supposed to smile she was crying. When she was supposed to cry she was smiling. I asked her, “why are you smiling?”

“Why, now is there any restriction on my smile also? I know there is restriction on going to swimming pool?, but I have the right to smile?” she responded. She was appearing humorous and witty.

From my unconscious mind, I nodded my head in negation and I also whispered, “no! there is no restriction, it cannot be”.

Upon hearing my response, her smile turned into laugh, she was laughing open heartedly. I said again, “I don’t have time; please tell me why are you laughing now.”

She said, “You are looking very handsome now, really. I want to marry you again, once more.”

I couldn’t understand Ritu. There was a soft innocence in her voice. She was not in complaining mode at all. She was honest and true from the core of her heart. But I could not understand her words. Within few second she went to “the place of Pooja”, removed a layer of flower from something, which was placed along with few deities and which was appearing red. She took it out in her both hands and started coming towards me.

Oh, now I realized. It was a “Red Paag”. Yes, it was the same the “Red Paag” of my first marriage. It means she has been worshiping it since beginning. A layer of fresh flower that she removed and the old dried flower whose petals were still intact was vouching it loudly that she has been worshipping it.

She was holding this “Paag” with both of her hands. She was still smiling. When I gave a curious look to her, she responded, “Chikloo told me everything. He told me that you forgot to purchase “Red Paag” and Pandit is not processing it further”.

I was bewildered. I gave another curious look and she explained it further, “Yes, I brought it from Bangalore, Pandit told me during our marriage to respect it. He told me that as long as I worship it daily, my husband will stay healthy. From today someone else should worship it. It is the last string of our marriage”.

She gave me in both of my hand respectfully and said, “Now you go, you are getting late, Pandit will not object to it”.

I was wondering, it is almost three years of our divorce. Why at all she was worshiping it. In my background, fear of not repeating the steps at the wedding podium was going on. There was chaos of thoughts in my mind. I was just following what Maya has planned. I was exhausted to the demand of Maya. I was afraid of perfectness. I was torn between the situation and instructions imposed on me. I was still holding the “Red Paag” in both of my palm. I did not know, how to react to this gesture of Ritu. My mind stopped working. Sequence of pain and forced training that Ritu had gone through started appearing my own. I could not help myself. I collapsed down into sofa and I almost buried my face into the “Red Paag”.

Ritu came closer to me and said, “Sorry, I did not want to bother you. Did you feel bad? It was just because Pundit was not performing rituals without it, therefore I have given to you, sorry If I bothered you. I am sorry again.”

Her style of uttering the words “Sorry” was the same, as she repeated it several time during first six months of our married life in Bangalore. I was sure train did not blow horn yet. I kept my face buried into the Red Paag. She continued saying sorry repeatedly. I could not respond. I could not have responded. Why?

Adapted from Rajkamal Chaudhary Lalka Paag