‘I am going to change my life. I can’t continue like this…I feel so stressed out…’
I remember the day my wife said those words. In office, we had followed Tata Steel’s successful bid for Corus and even celebrated that conquest with loud cheers. It was a light day at work and I got home early, around 7 pm. I showered, then went to the kitchen, kissed my wife behind her right ear, on her neck, fondled her breasts while she cut, stirred and washed. I asked her to join me in the TV room. Fifteen minutes later, when I poured the last of my large peg down my throat, she came and sat next to me, roughly tucking her hair in a band, wiping the sweat on her brow with the sleeve of her rough night-gown. She looked at me straight in the eyes and told me those words. I nodded, ignored and gave her a long deep kiss.
In the days that followed, I observed the changes. Breakfast became toast, jam and eggs. I mentioned to my wife that it is healthier to have traditional stuff like idlis or thin crisp dosas that I could down by the dozen. A few more minutes on the treadmill will make up for it, came her reply. Ironing went out on a weekly basis to the ironing-guy in the basement of our apartment. I love to wear a freshly-ironed shirt to office. I tried to iron but I made a mess of the creases. I settled for the ironing guy. The maid was given more money to take on more responsibilities like cooking. The maid was allowed to clean the bathroom and toilet unsupervised and even the tiles were left to the maid. The spaces between tiles remained slightly grimy and I wondered how my wife managed to let it be. She used to be so finicky about that before. Everything seemed more or less like before, just a wee bit off-taste like the maid’s cooking.
One day after work, I decided to go to a bookshop rather than return home. I saw her with a group in the ice-cream shop right opposite to the bookstore. I watched her without being seen. She looked beautiful, laughing, joking, sipping coffee and licking the froth from her lips with the impish mischievous look on her face I used to love seeing during our much younger days.
‘Is our social life becoming too active?’ I asked her a few nights later. ‘I have time to be with my friends too,’ she replied with a bright smile, cuddling next to me, smelling fresh, wearing a new white lacy lingerie, leaning over, leaving a trail of kisses on my lips and chest. Before I switched off the bedside lamp, I looked in the mirror opposite to our bed. I do remember wondering if I had a confused tired stressed out look in my eyes.
My new boss must have been one of the reasons for that look. There is one word to describe her – aggressive. She reminded me of a school-teacher I had, the one who used to pinch me hard for not doing homework on time. She also reminded me of Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction. Colleagues teased me by saying that I am her pet. I was certainly working harder, not really intimidated but eager to please, I should admit. I started working on Saturdays too. Once or twice, I went to her apartment to deliver and explain a new report for her to study during the weekend. She lived alone and she never kept me there for more than half an hour. She never offered refreshments, not even a glass of water.
Eighteen weeks after Tata Steel took over Corus, I had to go to her apartment on a Saturday. I rang the bell and waited for a while before entering the flat. The front door was not locked. Inside, it was dark and cold. The air-conditioner was on and the curtains were drawn tightly over the windows. I looked around. I kept her bedroom for the last. Her bed seemed freshly made. I opened the door of the attached bathroom. On the floor, I saw her bloody hacked body.
Well, months have gone by since that day. Life has changed so much. These days, my eyes look less troubled, nearly de-stressed. My wife visits me every week. After my arrest, I did try to convince her of my innocence but I gave up after a few days. The judge wants me to have a legal counsel. I told him that I trust him to make the right decision.
Just an Avatar 