Friday 31 August 2018

The little ways in which I miss you

This write-up is dedicated to all those whose spouse has a travelling job or are staying in different cities/countries for some reason.


The kids are playing in the park. The little one is counting 1,2,3,4…20. While he covers his eyes with his small palms, he also peeps through the gaps between his fingers to see where his friends are hiding. Every time he peeps his naughty smile gives him away. All the other kids have run away to take shelter behind the bushes and pillars.


It’s beginning to get dark. I look at the time on my phone. It’s 6:50 PM. The mental calculation begins. Another 20 minutes at the most before taking the kids back home. Dinner will be at 7:30pm. They must be off to bed latest by 8:30pm. There is sanity in following a routine. It’s only after they sleep that the house will be quiet again. I can have some time to myself. Work, read, watch TV, or sleep.


I see a man stepping out of the basement parking. Crisp shirt, formal trousers, polished shoes. Laptop bag in hand. Is it you? My heart gets hopeful. Then my mind tells me, ‘No silly, it can’t be. He’s not here. Remember?’ Yes, I do remember. He’s travelling.


Once I clear the table and am ready to switch off the lights for the night, I notice a car from the window. I try to guess the make of the car from the shape of its glaring headlamps. It’s a Honda. Not yours. Then another car approaches. This one looks like yours. My heart leaps up in hope. Then my mind tells me, ‘No silly, it can’t be. He’s not here. Remember?’ Yes, I do remember. You are not going to be back for another few days.


I call you, hoping you are done for the day but we can’t speak just yet, you are surrounded by people.


Our bed has been occupied by the kids. They told me, ‘Tumhe darr lagega akele’. Well, it’s better than going to sleep in an empty bed and feel your absence. Now that you are not here to wake me up in the morning, I pick up my phone to set an alarm for myself but end up browsing through some useless posts on Instagram. In parallel, I think about how much time I end up wasting on the phone, I could do so much more with that time. I am so addicted!


You call, we speak for a few minutes. But, neither of us are good with spoken words. So, we just talk about the kids or what you ate for dinner. More than anything we talk about, I am just happy to hear your voice.


I read a book late into the night, then get hungry. I guiltily eat some ice-cream but tell myself I deserve it. I justify the need for it. I can’t sleep if I am hungry. I read till I can no longer keep my eyes open and then drop off to sleep. Had you been here we would have most likely watched something on Netflix together. I am saving it for when you return. Also, I know that watching TV would make me stay up even longer. I can’t sleep as peacefully when you are not around.


After the kids go to school, I put some clothes into the machine for washing. At the bottom of the washing pile is your off-white shirt. I pick it up and hold it close. It still smells of you. That familiar mix of your perfume and you that I know so well. I close my eyes and enjoy the heady mix for a few moments before putting it back in the basket. I won’t put it for washing before you return. Not for any reason, but only because there are not enough of your clothes to fill the machine.


Later in the day I find a picture of us from a few days ago. I smile. Well, at least in this photo we will always be together. I share it on social media. It makes me wonder how deceptive it can be. When we are apart, I am creating an impression as if we are together. Do people use the same logic when posting photos, it makes me wonder.