She opened her eyes and looked at the clock …it was 3:30..three hours since the power cut… maybe that was the reason that fan on roof was moving unusually slow… trying to do something with last surges of power from the exhausted Power inverter…but that wasn’t going to cool things down and fresh sweat on her forehead was the proof..
She looked around…her husband was sitting in corner over a pile of papers…maybe so deep lost in words that the heat didn’t reach him at all…she smiled on her own metaphor…yep…he has his words and no heat could warm him up..
But she was uncomfortable with all the sweat so she went to the window and opened it up…sudden burst of loo hit her face…but if felt good when it touched the sweat and dried it up…she was relieved… evaporation was at work and she was getting cooled by the hot gusts of loo..
She stood there by the window and looked outside…the street was empty…the park across the street was empty and it seemed that the world behind that park was empty too…every living soul…be it animal or human was hiding somewhere in shade or home…hiding for their dear lives against the harsh sun..
But this emptiness calmed her…somehow it echoed with the emptiness inside her and this resonance strike again and again…so much that she looked towards the husband and said “it’s beautiful… Isn’t it..?”
He pulled his head up and gave her “this bitch is crazy” look and said “what?”
“This afternoon… it’s so beautiful…So peaceful…”
“Peace…with you and me trapped it a room.. It’s house arrest dear… not peace”
She felt the sarcasm in his words…she knew it was best to silently bear it but the peace she had felt gave her a certain freedom and she couldn’t stop “There is no arrest for your majesty… You are man of this house and you can’t be trapped… Feel free to step out anytime you like”
“And get a heat stroke and lose my sanity… would be a good argument for in court for your lawyer…a mad man who roams barefoot in June afternoon..”
She knew he was making one of his divorce jokes that he was so fond of… marriages are subject of majority jokes in the world and at least half of those jokes are related to divorce…but somehow this didn’t feel like a joke… it felt something else… Something that left very bad taste in her mouth…almost like a reflex action she replied “I am sure my lawyers will find far better arguments for your insanity then this one…they don’t even need witnesses you know… Everything you write is no less insane then a mental patient’s diary”
“Yeah i agree… since i have married you and moved to this mental asylum of a home it’s quite easy for me to catch the disease…and with your family’s history of loonies i think this was bound to happen…”
She shuddered…her family’s history of loonies referred to her mother… the once living soul who suffered from chronic depression and more of an ice statue now…she knew both of them were joking but this was bit too much…it was like they were trying to hurt each other and then finally say that it was a joke…but “it was a joke” punchline was not in sight and only hurt was there… she paused for a moment…deliberated whether to stop or go all out and decided to land one final punch
” Yeah…my family’s loonies are quite famous but at least none of them kill themselves unlike the ones on your side..”
His face cringed and she saw that…she regretted the words…she knew he knew exactly what she meant…his nephew’s suicide was not entirely because of mental health issues…but the way she used it was a masterpiece…he was silent…he dropped the paper on side and stood up…then quietly walked up to the door and went outside..
She stood by the window… waiting for the response that never came…
She gazed on the horizon and the bitter hot loo suddenly felt unbearable…she felt the delicate balance nature has… Everything borderlines on something…a little less bitterness and its bland…a little more and it’s unbearable…there has to be balance…maybe she shouldn’t have been so curt and hurtful in her replies…she thought about going out and apologising to him..
The door creaked…his footsteps approached…she smiled inside…he can’t be angry for so long…he came up and stood right behind her…motionless…his breathing heavy…she raised her chin up looked ahead and then turned back…
When her eyes met his… She saw they were bloodshot…he had cried outside the room..
And with all his power he slapped her…
She fell down… horrified. This was the first time she was being hit.
He stooped down and growled “…Consider it a warning. Next time you make fun of my nephew’s death i will show you what insane is..”
He slammed the door and went out…the fan came back to life…the power cut was over…the inverter beeped and started charging again…kids roused a cry of joy in adjoining home… but she kept lying on floor there…her ear throbbing…cheek swollen…tears rolling down… thinking where it all went wrong in that beautiful afternoon.
The Wordsmith's Apprentice 