Short Story Love – Faulty Knot
Photo credit: Melodi2 from morguefile.com
She looked wonderful, in the heavy silk saree with pure gold zari along the border of the six yards. She was decked up with the most well designed gold jewellery, her wrist decorated with diamond bangles, and her hands red with mehendi.
It’s a strange occasion, weddings, they tend to remind you about your own; and so did I, the perfect day, the perfect man, the perfect moment, which ironically seemed so imperfect now. Things had fallen apart, we had moved on, but there was still something incomplete in my life. In spite, of having the best job, best friend, an amazing house in the most desired community of the city, I felt lost, lonely and depressed.
Most of the people in my life thought the idea of staying single was what was driving me nuts. But I would defend saying, I did better stay unmarried, than with man like Swaroop. Talking about my ex-husband, I had made a promise to myself that never ever will I talk or even think of him after the separation, but it was just the opposite that was happening.
The more I avoided thinking about him, the more it all came back to me. He was the best looking man I had ever spotted, his flawlessly chiseled features, his manly broad shoulders, the light stubble he sported and most of all, his deep and mesmerizing voice, which completely bowled me over. But I should have just stopped right there; it was way too obvious that, a man that attractive will not stay forever with a girl like me, who is so average looking. But the first few months after a hasty decision of marriage, life was beautiful; I had a man in my life that I never wanted to lose, moments that will always haunt me, until he found someone better.
Maybe better looking, but certainly not better educated, better smart or even better employed! But as everyone says, marriage makes women bigger in size; it was true in my case too. Maybe I had put on a few pounds, but not a good enough reason to betray your spouse who loves you more than the reading on the weighing scale.
However, it was very evident, that my life partner had completely opposing views, which I couldn’t accept or tolerate. So that was it, end of the so called perfect life. It was over, in a jiffy. All that was left was to just sign a couple of papers and I could already see my life in shreds. It had been just a month, but I had channelized all my aggression and frustration on my job, which was going very well, my management, was happy with me and so was I. A bad marriage can never decide your future for worse; maybe there were better things to come.
The wedding banquet was remarkable, the variety was extensive, an absolute treat to my palate. I left for home, with a satisfied meal, wishing my friend an eternal happy married life. Holding on to a steaming mug of black coffee, I stared out the window of my apartment, wondering where I had gone wrong in judging Swaroop. I held the strip in one hand as tears rolled down my cheek. No, I wasn’t ready for a baby. Not now, and certainly not his.
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