Part 4
Days started rolling at its pace. Dhritiman was nowhere in good terms with Minerva. Neither did she take initiative to do so. Both the families called them at regular intervals, and both lied, 'everything is fine'. To be more precise, it was Minerva who kept talking to the families, whereas Dhritiman got more engrossed into work. His hope didn't die.
"Have some shame Dhriti! You are married now. Seriously regularly sleeping with your wife, you cannot yet forget me. This is the last time I am warning you. Don't call me." Tiya yelled.
"Tiya! How can you think so low of me? I am dedicated to you.. only you.. and .."
"Oh, shut up Dhritiman Gupta. It didn't take you 15 days to get married to another girl. She is the same girl, right? Your parents had fixed at childhood? Oh, then I did right moving away."
"Tiya, there is nothing between me and Minu. We don't share even a room. sSeak about us. Where did we go wrong?? You know, how difficult it was to find you. Why did you ditch me Tiya? Not only me, your parents? Why Tiya?"
"Dhritiman Gupta, tell me one thing. You claimed to love me, but did you ever want to know, what did I want?? Suhana was right! Since the beginning, you have always imposed your decisions on me. Even once did you discuss with me, before coming to my parents? What do you think, having a very respectful job, you own everything? No Dhritiman, you don't! I thought you would change, but you didn't! Each date, your choice for place, food of your choice! Even the banarasi sari for the marriage was selected by you. Why? Has my opinion no value? 5 long years I waited, but you never changed. How could I marry you? I would be a slave to you, to your decisions! Listen Dhritiman, I work in a small firm, and happy working in that. I want to stay my little family along with everything. I will return to country next week, but don't you dare coming to me. I don't care whether you are a cobbler or a IPS officer, your one call and I shall lodge FIR against you for eave teasing"
And Dhritiman chucked the phone on floor. She was waiting for him to change? Did she never love him? So what if he didn't ask her before meeting her parents? Didn't she want that? So what if he chose the banarasi sari? It looked beautiful on her. So what if I take all the decisions, that was our good future, together! He yelled in mind. He had used his resources to talk to her, and here she was threatening him with FIR! Wow! Dhritiman just could understand what all those cuddles meant then? Was Tiya cuddling with him, trying to fall in love? Why? They had shared a few intimate moments too. Of course each time those moments were initiated by him, and he had to convince her a lot for little kisses. How could she? Or how could he? Had he been that blind, that he even couldn't recognise between truth and false?
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Minerva gave surprises to Kamala every day. How was she handling this? They say right, "may ra dasho bhuja" (EACH GIRL HAS MA DURGA IN HER, WITH TEN HANDS). It didn't take Minerva long to know about Dhriti's likes and dislikes. Health issues, everything. Mrs. Gupta had just given her list his favourites, the food he is allergic to. And Minerva, well, she was marvelling at being Mrs. Dhritiman Gupta!
Each morning before Kamala came to their house, her Mina boudimoni was done with shopping of veggies and fishes and everything. Kamala used to gawk at her, when she (Minerva) used to tell her innovative recipes every third fourth day with those same conventional ingredients and those instructions. She used to rush. Kamala used to advance towards Dhriti's room for his used clothes, and then to her room, again to be amazed. Minerva had done all her chores before she left. So basically, Kamala Masi worked only for Dhriti. Minerva used to leave before he woke up..
In the evening, after returning home, she used to dismiss kamala masi for the day, run few errands, cook for herself, only herself and vanish into her room. And again she was there engrossed into her designing. But her ears were always alert. How easily she knew, each day the door clicked open by 9.30, latest by 10, the little beep of the microwave oven by 10.45, and those peaceful snores by 11.30. She used to sneak out of her room after that. Check the doors and windows, switch off the on lights and lastly, the wife inside her used to check on her husband, adjust the temperature and finally called it a night.
One such night, her slumber broke by his voice. He was yelling, she heard from the other side of the wall. She didn't understand much for she herself was a deep sleeper, but she understood what was needed. A emergency had arrived, and Dhriti has to leave.
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"What the hell are you doing in the kitchen at this hour?" He growled from the threshold. "It's fucking 3 a.m!." he was about to say more. But was interrupted. "For the same reason, you came here. Go dress up. I am cooking something." She kept her calm.
"I am not going to eat anything."
"Look Dhriti da.. It's not my hobby to cook at 3 a.m. Okay? But since, you have to rush, I am making it. Even you don't know, when the next time, you will fill your stomach. And empty stomach you can't be successful in any mission. So for your duty's sake, don't argue tonight. Save it for the time you will back. Now go."
Dhriti batted his eye lids. What was this girl made up? And how the hell did she had this control over him. Shaking his head he left to get ready, and in five minutes he was back at the dining table in his khakhi uniform. But was surprised to see the bowl filled with some delicious pasta dipped in white sauce. He smirked. His wife had cooked him white sauce. "It's not butter. Its margarine. Don't worry." came her voice. His eyes widened. How did she know that he was allergic to butter! Must be mom. Anyways, no time to think, he gobbled it up. Had the situations been different, would have praised her for sure. But not today.
She was about to close the door after him when she heard him, "Please lock all the locks of the main door and windows. Balcony too."
A/N: PLEASE PLEASE DO GIVE YOUR IMPORTANT COMMENTS. AND KINDLY DO VOTE. THANK YOU FOR READING THIS STORY. LOVE LOVE.
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