Homecoming
By Biswas
- It's been ten years since she left for the States. It's been such a long time, it seems. I hope she hasn't changed. I haven't - not for her, that is!
And now, that the day I've been waiting for over such a long time has arrived, I'm justifiably nervous. She'll be here, yet again!
She's said she would call me at the first opportunity she gets. But this wait is getting intolerably long. Each passing moment is draining me, sapping my vitality away. My adrenalin level has gone haywire. My heart is pounding and skipping beats for the love of my life.
This darn telephone! Why doesn't it ring now? A thousand wrong numbers yesterday, the constant whirrs driving me crazy. And today, like the lull before a storm, it's making my wait excruciating.
But what will I say when she calls? Will even a single word come out of my mouth? Or, will she blabber on endlessly, like she used to, and I solicitously listen? But surely, she must've changed after Mallika…
Those were the days! The days I eagerly waited for her calls. It seemed forever, before the phone rang, always startling me by its sudden, shrill buzz. I'm no less zealous as I await her call today. But how much has she changed?
Does she still love homemade chocolate-caramel ice cream? Does she twitch her nose when nervous, like she used to? Does she peal into laughter at the slightest prompting? More important, oh yes, it is all that matters: Does she still love me?
She can't blame me for all that went wrong, for sure! She's the most culpable, not even her parents. Where was her infallible resoluteness that I was such a big fan of when she needed it the most?
But, try as I might to believe otherwise, things have changed. Laxmi and little Sakshi are as much a part of my life now as she is. She must have similar feelings for Mridush and little Manav. The milieu of the French Quarters in Louisiana must have had some impact on her as well.
But why is she coming alone? Why is her family not accompanying her? Perhaps, Mallika…
She must be going through the customs. Any minute now! If only she had let me receive her outside the airport. Why would she not allow me to be the first one to see her on her homecoming?
But I couldn't question her—not many can. She has good reasons for everything she does, and amazingly, she is invariably right…
Finally! At last, she calls, ending my daylong anguish. Oh God, so excruciating! Never did I realize I would take it so badly. But now that she has arrived, I have no qualms whatsoever. I feel the same boyish verve that a teenager has on his first date. Life seems beautiful again. She's asked me to dine with her – Gee! Now that sounds exciting!
What more could I ask for? The stars twinkling tonight with their majestic radiance, just to welcome her home, it seems, under which two of us recline alongside on her lawn, celebrating together, after ages, with a bottle of champagne handy by the side.
Those piercing, seductive eyes, cutting through my senses! The flowing jet-black hair suddenly cut short at the nape, now entwined with the new-mown grass. That indomitable persona, well carried by her sylphlike figure! Her soft, chirpy drawl: I'm going numb.
She misses her family, she says: What must Mridush be doing? She has never left Mridush alone with Manav, a handful for both of them to manage.
I understand, I say, nodding my head now and again, like a sympathetic listener.
She takes her drinks well, she tells me. I admit she looks very calm for someone who has downed a bottle of champagne and a slew of whisky shots. But I'm drunk; I can feel it, down to my bones – blotto!
I got to head home, I tell her. Slinking out on the family during a weekend – Laxmi might find that very unusual. No chance of making it up to her today; too late.
I'm sorry about Mallika, I say. Such a lovely girl she must have been. And I am sorry, indeed! I feel for her. Too bad I can't stay. I wish I could…No…I got to go home.
She is overjoyed to be back, finally! She says so, now peacefully amidst the garden flowers. She wants to drive me home. How ironic…!
Her eyes look peaceful, and her face perfectly calm. A stream of blood trickles down her forehead into the warm, tarred surface. No, it doesn't hurt. Her endearing smile wipes away all pain; always does when I'm with her.
Didn't I tell you she's seldom wrong? She's taking me home, she says: Mallika's home.
(Originally published in The Kathmandu Post)
