Through the third eye

We got married in 2005, right around the time when Anniyan hit the theatres. You know, how most poignant moments in movies have something dramatic associated with it to not-so-subtly point out its importance; like waves crashing against rock, thunder or 100 violins screeching nonstop.

Well, our married life didn't have any of the aforementioned. Though at times I think thunder and rain would have suited it quite beautifully. The only music CD I bought as I crossed the Atlantic was the Anniyan soundtrack, especially since it had a song to my name. Everyday after The Mr went to work, I would sit with a plate of toast and omelette and watch Becker re-runs on TV. Right after Becker, I would pop the Anniyan music cd, get into the kitchen and cook lunch. A simple meal of dal, rice and beans would take me a good 2 hours to cook as one had to spend 30 minutes between taking the dal and placing it in the cooker, reminiscing about Madras to an invisible husband.

It's less than 3 years since we've been married but The Mr claims it feels like 30. Can't blame him. When you're married to a woman who speaks dime to dozen any given minute and now you have a 3 month old who takes after her mom in that aspect, every second seems like a lifetime.

I digress. Anyway, the point of the post is, i don't have many photographs of our life in that one bedroom apartment. There was never an urgency coz there was always a lifetime to click snaps. But whenever I listen to Anniyan songs or hear the soundtrack of Becker, I feel myself looking in on our life then, as a series of snapshots in sepia tones; of a starry-eyed girl lugging 2 pounds of sugar and 2 pounds of flour up a steep climb to bake her newly-wed husband a birthday cake, waking up to the sound of birds and The Mr walking in with coffee, cuddling up on the bean bag, sitting on the floor and watching 'Anniyan' on the internet...so many moments made lovelier by a wonderful soundtrack.

Our voices.

Love in Sweltering heat

Love is beautiful. It sounds contrived but seriously, it makes so much sense to me, especially now as I find myself lost in her. Some say The One is the reason for my existence but they are folk who haven't seen her. To me she is The One; the beginning and end of everything.

She has one of those wonderful smiles that lights up the entire space. No wait! That's another one of those contrived sentences picked up from a book. I looked over the shoulder of a girl reading a novel the other day and the line caught my attention. Why does Love make me so happy and light yet brings out the worst of my poetic self?

How long have I been in love, you ask? From the moment she smiled at my antics I've been smitten. Last week, I pushed a lock of her hair, more a tease than a taunt. She smiled indulgently and pushed it back behind her ear. On some days when I am at my naughtiest best, I pull her dupatta but the second I see her biting her lower lip in a struggle to wrench it from me, I give up. She looks so vulnerable it pains me.

And I know she misses me if I am not around. Take yesterday for instance, it was the hottest day in Madras. Not a soul was out and nor was I. I did have my duties to attend to but I preferred cooling my heels inside than venture in that unforgiving heat. But she was out, my unlucky angel, draped in a cotton salwar which unsuccessfully did nothing to ease the heat. Her eyes, usually bright and lively, were dull and looking towards the distance, as if searching for someone. Who else? Me, of course.

For a moment, I thought I should go and swoop her in my arms and relieve her stress but my work was not in that area. If someone knew I was working places not in my schedule, I would be in serious trouble. So I stayed at my spot and just looked. Tomorrow, I can meet her. Oh! How I long to surprise her when she least expects me.

I couldn't sit still all night. I roamed the streets, singing and dancing, making the neighbours smile in their sleep. Somehow in Madras, noone ever begrudges my singing or dancing! The day finally dawned and I ran to the bus stop to meet her, knocking a couple of bicycles on the way. I'll treat those kids later. As I arrived closer to her, I stopped dead in my tracks. She wasn't alone. And she wasn't looking out for me either. She was holding hands and laughing with another man. My angel with another man?

I stood rooted to my spot and stared at them. I saw the silly boy take out a letter from his pocket and give her. That's when something snapped within me. A mad rage filled my mind and I charged towards them and snatched the letter. "Nobody gives a letter to My Love", I snapped and rushed away.

As I walked away, I heard my angel shout, "Aiyyo, somebody catch hold of that paper please!The wind just blew it away". I turned back and watched as they tried to grab the paper from my hands. I smiled.