It was a busy life , amidst the crowd of city lights we made a small world of our own. My morning started with a bash, and then I would take a short bath and she would drag me to the breakfast table, where she made me drink that awful mixed fruit juice that she made, along with two brad,one banana and half egg.
"If you want to stay fit, do as I say"
"But I dont want to" - I cried like a child.
"But I dont want a chubby husband"
"And I dont want to stay hungry all day"- I left the table without taking the tiffin box, and even after blackmailing that I would not take food the whole day, she just wont give up. Somehow she could smell the biriyani out of my stomach that I ate in my office canteen, but that was not my fault. Anyone would lose control once the smell of those biriyani rice reaches your cabin, and you try hard to concentrate on work with a half empty stomach. Soon she managed to make me hit the gym once she started making fun of my pot belly. She kept mocking that I would get bald, and people will call me uncle. Indeed that formula worked- I woke up earlier than usual and became a frequent visitor at the gym. Meanwhile I got used to her little breakfast that made me stay hungry all day. Even in my office I abstained from taking in biriyani, tried every possible way to prevent the smell stimulate my tastebuds.
After a hard days work when I returned home, we would sit together and watch our favourite show F.R.I.E.N.D.S. That was the best time that we spent. Occasionally we would hit the sea side, and enjoy the view of open sky, sunset, small boats, jetty , horse carriages, hotel Taj. She herself bought those fried samosas and pakoras and gifted it to me
Her: "This is your reward?"
Me:"For?"
Her:"For sticking to the diet plan"
Me:"Huh! I miss those biriyanis"
Her:"Alright dont like it, im having it then"
Me:"No no, atleast its better than your half egg"- I snatched those fried pakoras wrapped in filthy newspapers.
Me:"Tell me one thing, will you stop loving me if I really get bald, and start growing that pot belly once again. What if I look old, or ugly, which I am"
Her:"Shut up, you are not ugly. And it doesnt matter to me how old you grow, time or age doesnt matter anymore Neel, we are married now. That means we are never going to walk alone"
Me:"Really? Then I am surely getting back to my biriyani"
Her:"You dont need to. I have made biriyani today"
Me:"What ? "
Her:"Yes and if you promise to be a good boy I can make it twice a week"
Me:"Alright, if it makes you happy, I will"
I kept getting closer as we spoke until my nose touched her shoulder and she freaked out.
"What are you doing , this is a public place"
"Then I guess we must hurry and finish this story at home, in our bedroom maybe" - I laughed.
"You are a crook"
"I know"
Life was going so smooth that we did not even understand how time passed. 'Things are never gonna change' - Thats what we thought, but after all the author was a very bad man. To make his calculation even , he rented us two years of happiness to endless years of pain.
One day I received an appointment letter from St.Joseph's college, in regard to the post of assistant professor. I couldnt believe there was any chance that I could get through this, but when the reply came after six months , I was literally stunned. I didn't know what to do. The salary was almost double of what I got in Bombay, moreover I was tired working as a clerk in a private bank when I knew I deserved better. I was afraid Meghna would not take this in a supportive manner, but I was wrong. She badly missed Bengal , and asked if there was any chance that I could get a job in Kolkata. But that was not to happen, so the choice was between Darjeeling and Bombay , and we chose Darjeeling.
The day we sold her flat and handed over the keys to the new owner, that day was the biggest mistake. We should never have left bombay.