The Last Resentment

abhikdasgupta
Aug 1, 2018
14 min read

Updated: Jul 17, 2020

Exactly what qualities does a woman look for in her man? And then how does she go about seeing to it that her spouse has that V-taper figure, six-pack abs which will make all her friends jealous... to convert him into a superman who always has the energy to take her on a shopping spree, a movie watch, dining out and all after a hard day's work, run errands and do the housekeeping for her; yet never lose energy on the bed at night. She expects him to obey her every command, fulfill all her whims and fancies, pamper her like she used to be done before...and yet after everything can she cling on to him for her entire life? As the saying goes you start to value your tooth only when you lose it. Does it apply in the case of a spouse too? Of all her resentments about her second most important man in her life, which is the last, the most severe one?

THE STORY

She opened her weary eyes and squinted into the sunlight streaming in from the open window. She had failed to notice when her pet cat had climbed on to her bed beside her. Perhaps it was already lying there on her bed with her since last night. These stealthy animals of soft, squirming flesh are very pleasant to be cuddled with but can scare the shits out of you from your sleep- imagine the rhythmic sound of breathing like someone whispering into your ears, the gush of warm air on your neck you when you know that you're alone.

She held the cat in her arms and combed her fingers through its velvety thick fur. The warmth of the body overwhelmed her and she closed her eyes again when suddenly her tongue loitering aimlessly inside her mouth touched the hole where one of her molars had once been. She could at once feel the excruciating pain which had kept her up throughout the nights, caused her to weep profusely during the days. Neighbours had given her that sly smile which meant that they knew too well about the sweet and sour tussles between newly-weds. And when she could not bear it any more she had rushed to the dentist and got rid of the tooth. As the saying goes you start to value your tooth only when you lose it. Does it apply in the case of a spouse too?

Here was a man who got up early and washed the dishes, foraged the market regularly to bring her favorite fish; washed and ironed the clothes, cleaned the toilets, fixed a leaking pipe. He never complained of her frequent visits to the shopping malls and lightening of his purse, of continuously inventing ways to improvise the interiors of their flat, of over-spending on food at the arrival of a guest, of paying visits to her relatives and friends for days while he fended for himself. At her slightest provocation he could fight with an old friend who had stood by him in troubled times, sever relations with that close relative who had brought him up in his childhood, even ask his parents to stay away and not to bother them anymore. But all of these proofs of standing by her always had proved futile. He had lost his charm in her eyes.

Yet when she was shown his photograph from a marriage portal she had immediately approved the decent, good-looking man whose eyes spoke a lot.. 'Besides he is the G.M. in an MNC; single child, own home in North Kolkata', his brother had looked up from his laptop. 'Cultured family. Upper-class kayastha, higher in hierarchy to us but they have no caste reservations. No sister-in-law, no brother-in-law and hence no problems. It seems my sister will rule like a queen in that house,' he had reassured her. 'But how will I share the rest of my life with a stranger?' she had demanded an explanation from her mother. 'You'll get to know him after marriage and he'll hardly remain a stranger then. Now-a-days you girls at least get the chance to see each other before marriage. At our times..'

'I know what it was like in your times,' she had cut her off. 'You got to see father only during the Shubho drishti (1) ceremony... And how girls hardly had any say over their marriages those days... how you feared him being ten years older to you and used to run away when he came home from work... And how the man had slowly made a place in your heart... You've told the story umpteen times Ma. But times have changed. Don't you think boys and girls ought to meet for some time, get to know each other well, before taking the plunge?' She had argued. 'No', her mother had rounded her eyes in mock anger to reprove her twenty-eight year old daughter. 'What do you know of love? Getting to know each other well before tying the knot dissolves the magic of knowing someone bit by bit...what he thinks, what he likes to eat, what he likes about you... you feel a lump in your heart when he goes out for a couple of days... you stop talking for days after a row and seek an opportunity desperately to break the ice ...love blossoms slowly. It is like the sapling you need to water and care for regularly to make it grow into the tree.

When she first met him at her house during match-making, she had looked into those wide eyes and tried to find out what lay inside their depths. She had not failed to recognize that gleam of enthrallment in his eyes. Did it mean love at first sight from his side, as well? The tea had spilled from his cup and spoiled the table cloth. 'I'm so sorry. Hope I did not embarrass you'. His voice rolled off his tongue like rich, cultured honey. 'Its okay. I suppose the tea did not spill over to your pants'. She tried hard to suppress a giggle by biting her lips.

The differences kept pouring in right within a few days of their married life. Not that he was less hot in bed than she had expected him to be; he had rather exhibited more bravery on the night of their Phulsojja(2). He had cuddled her, fondled her body and like a domestic pet she had given in to his desires and allowed herself to get carried away. But after a year she got bored with his ways of love-making. They went for their first honeymoon to Mussourie, known to be the queen of hills and an excellent place to rediscover or mend old love, and had boarded a room reserved for honeymoon couples in a secluded hotel. She had expected her love life to take a leap forward but instead had made one of her annoying discoveries; that her husband had grown a protruding belly.

She cursed the ritual of Oshto Mangala(3) followed by other relatives in overindulging the son-in-law with fish, meat and sweets. Surely, he did not have an entirely flat tummy a year before, she deduced. She was bewildered as to how he managed to hide its flabby convexity from her eyes when he came to meet her before marriage. Since that first revelation of his deceit, his tummy had never stopped growing, in spite of her keeping him within strict diet of porridge and a fruit in the breakfast- she had turned deaf ear to his cravings for luchi and aloo dum; packed two rotis, daal and cucumbers for his lunch, taking his oath over her head that he'd not touch any street food; and allowing for a bowl of fish curry with few vegetables only at dinner.

Next, his habit of taking power naps, too often had appeared strange. He slept whenever he found time, in the afternoons when he was in the house; while going to watch movie together, he had even slept on their honeymoon. At first she had asked him directly. 'Why do you feel tired always? Are your days being too busy? Did you not like the movie? But I'd known Kareena to be your favourite heroine.' To which her husband had come up with his apprehensions at work; the labour union hatching plans to hold strike on account of retrenchment of a number of the staff, the ever –increasing cost of raw materials, the necessity to increase production to face the competitive market; there were many reasons for tension but they had failed to convince her. If that's the case, how could a man keep his anxiety away and sleep like a log? She kept on wondering.

At home, she had never found her father or brother to get that dog-tired after a day's work. Her father worked in a construction company and was often required to travel throughout the year. But whenever he could find time, he never tired at taking his children out for a visit to the zoo, the museum or planetarium. She could never forget the biriyani she and her brother had had during those times at the famous Shiraj's and the taste of kosha mangsho of Golbari restaurant still lingered in her mind after so many years.

She remembered the gifts her father would bring her back from work; that pencil box with a three dimensional hologram of a smiling girl in two different dresses on its lid; the doll which closed its eyes when laid and opened when lifted up, which one of her classmate had proudly sported on her birthday. Be it anything she could name and it would soon find its way amongst her innumerable possessions. Once she had expressed her liking for a particular brand of marmalade she had tasted from a friend's tiffin and her father had travelled as far as South Kolkata to fetch it for her. The dismal look in his face had not escaped her eyes on the day of her ashirvad when he had put husked rice and trefoil leaves on her head and blessed her for a happy married life.

All those years of her marital life, her husband had pampered her too like her father, taking care of even the small things she liked but some desires needed to be understood without telling, those which changed with time, age and relationships, wishes which were intrinsic to a woman's completeness. To her, her husband was still a little boy who needed to be scolded and his ways mended to keep him in the direction of growing into a man. 'What an impishness he had displayed in delaying the sending back of the turmeric paste he had been anointed with along with the other gifts to her home to complete the haldi ritual'; she recalled with a smile. 'Don't throw your clothes on the bed!, Why don't you keep your shoes in the shoe-rack when you return home? How many times have I told you not to leave your socks inside your shoes.. I can't bear the stink'.

She'd shout at him often to discipline him. In her mind she had a role model carved out of her father, whom she had followed her entire life. He was the man who understood her more than she understood herself, someone to whom she could pour out her heart without the fear of getting rebuked, whom she could look up to for guidance and help; a place in her mind which she could never stand being usurped by anyone else. Or did she want someone to usurp that throne? She did not know.

But even that hand of trust and dependability which had rested on her head for so many years had been lifted one day. His father had succumbed to colon cancer after putting up a brave fight for seven years, leaving her completely in the lurch. Though she could hardly think of any comparison between her father and her husband, at least she had never expected the trait of a sluggard to be present in the man she married. 'God, why on earth it had it to be written in her fate', she lamented. At first she tried with those drinks which promised to enhance a man's energies, and then she had confided him into visiting a specialist. When the medicines did not help either, and upon discussion with a relative she relied on, she took it as her job to keep her husband occupied and busy. And hence those regular exercises had started; of sending him to the market to bring that pickle, that vegetable or something she had forgot to list the other day. She made it a point that he never forgot the free-hand exercises getting up from bed or skipped the treadmill before going out. Have you taken care to notice that the jeans don't fit you anymore... Just see how your colleagues maintain themselves.. Some are even much senior to you. Learn something from them'.

If his husband's potbelly was a concern for her and his over-sleeping irritated her, then his continued snoring drove her crazy. They would appear to be low-pitched, innocent donkey's bray at first, soon to be followed by the whine of a horse progressing to an incessant neigh; improving abruptly to the growl of a dog, when she could not take it anymore. Sometimes she woke up in the night thinking to be lying inside a pig farm with one of the animals straying close to her ears; when the next moment realization dawned upon her and she clicked her tongue. She had tried by pressing her pillows to her ears, shook him up couple of times and even given out a long scream unable to bear the noise anymore. Every time she went on with her antics, he had both rolled on to the other side and continued with his snoring unabatedly; and she had remained awake for the rest of the night.

Another deficiency she found in him was to take everything for granted; having the least urge to protest or put up resistance. She remembered how her father always fought with the world whenever he smelt a rat. Once in an ultimate bid to cure her of her asthma she caught in her childhood, his Dad had taken recourse to Ayurvedic consultation, after a year's course in homeopathy, several courses of unanai medicines and a number of visits to the Tibetan Buddhists had failed to yield results. She was thin and frail in those days and could be identified only by her plump cheeks, which remained unchanged for several years even as she grew up into a woman. After taking a few doses of the medicine, her health started improving suddenly and by the end of a month everybody discovered her to have put-on weight mysteriously. When asked by what time could her breathing issues see some improvement, the main reason for taking the route to alternative medication; all that they were told was 'Very Soon.' Her father, who had doubts over the doctor's prescriptions to be anything other than strong doses of hormone-enhancing allopathic drugs, the ill-effects of such miracle drugs on her only daughter having left scars in his mind which were still fresh; had sent the same for testing at a laboratory, whose reports confirmed his hypothesis.

Without any hesitation, he charged at the doctor one day in front of a hall of patients with gaping mouths and pulled out the cat out of the bag in front of everyone. The public's reaction was phenomenal; the result being the clinic got closed within days. If a man had to be in her life other than him, it had to be like him or no one. Brave, one who talked straight to one's face, always found ways to execute his resolution if he had taken one, hard-working, would go to any lengths to keep up to his promises; the virtues of her father were so difficult to be found in young men of her age that she had never contemplated marriage, herself.

She got up from her stupor, emptied the remaining whisky of the bottle into her glass and looked at the thick, black liquid, pondering. A smile crossed her lips realizing the stunning resemblance of the wine to her grim state. There was only darkness left in her life now; a dense, non-porous world of darkness she was sinking into; a whirlpool of loneliness which drew her in and the more she tried to surface, the more she sank inside. No matter how much she tried to avoid admitting to herself but alike her extracted tooth she could not deny the hole it left behind in her life; like the one left by her father years ago. She could see it in the gaze of the other flat owners of the complex; feel her changed status in the way people talked to her now, in the lesser number of likes she received from the status updates she posted in Facebook. She had suddenly become a topic for gossip, an object of pity. Some of her feminist friends had patted her back, suggested making new friends and going for dates. 'You're only thirty. You have a whole life ahead of you'. 'No. Not again', she cried.

She knew one day it was going to happen. She had known it on the day of her marriage when her husband had lost his grip on her and faltered while performing Kusumdinge(4) . According to folklore, if the groom loosened his grip over his wife any time while performing the ritual and the wife did the offering alone, the husband was sure to walk out on her some time later in her life.

Notes: 1. Subho drishti-All along the saat paak ceremony, the bride seats on a wooden stool, her eyes covered with betel leaves. Her brothers and close male relatives then lift the bride seated on the stool and carry her around the groom, who is seated in front of the wedding pyre. Only after the seven circles in a row gets completed does the bride takes the betel leaves off her eyes. Shortly afterwards, in the presence of the elders of the two families, the bride sets her eyes on those of the groom and their eyes meet amidst the blowing of conch shells and ululation. This is known as subho drishti. 2. Phulsojja-Same as suhaag raat of marriages of other language-speaking hindus 3. Oshto mangala-On the eighth day after the marriage, the couple returns back to the home of the bride. It is a day of jollity for the family. People are invited also to partake of that happiness and the family makes arrangements for a lunch. 4. Kusumdinge-It is a ritual in which the bride hold chaff in her hands filled with popped rice given by her brother in front of the fire and the bride-groom held her hands from behind in an act of embrace, and offered the rice to the fire by winnowing.