Truth Hour

There is a time in a woman's life where the agonizing hour described by the narrator in story can happen. While living through that experience she feels angry at the man for making her feel so vulnerable and powerless. The most desired thing in that moment is to never ever have to experience this. That time passes and she comes into clarity. The hurt heals over and there is scar tissue where once the heart was so easy to wound. The next man when he comes along will not have this effect on her anymore. 

No, no, no. I must stop. I must think about something else. This is what I'll do. I'll put the clock in the other room. Then I can't look at it. If I do have to look at it, then I'll have to walk into the bedroom, and that will be something to do. Maybe, before I look at it again, he will call me. I'll be so sweet to him, if he calls me. If he says he can't see me tonight, I'll say, "Why, that's all right, dear. Why, of course it's all right." I'll be the way I was when I first met him. Then maybe he'll like me again. I was always sweet, at first. Oh, it's so easy to be sweet to people before you love them. 

She will come to realize she is not crazy to have felt this way when she did. Only that it was a warning that she did not recognize - the man she was agonizing over was not the one for her. The irony is that no one can quite explain that to her - the catharsis must come through experiences like this. It is easy for an outside observer to discuss her behavior as insecurity but it not entirely accurate. If the person has formed an unsuitable attachment, it is by nature an unstable, lonely thing and as such there is nothing to feel "secure" about. 

One Life

Clarity can come a in a place and time that are far removed from the events that required it. Imagine two people locked in a bad marriage had spent week in hostile silence. The man is skilled at weaponizing silence while the woman needs to talk like her life depended on it. It did not matter if that talk led to no outcomes and no closure. She had tried to make peace and failed many times during that fateful week - he simply refused to engage her no matter how much she groveled for a conversation. Came a point when she decided she was done and would no longer be the one seeking reconciliation - ever. She is that kind of woman - with a built in kill-switch no one can see. It makes her actions incomprehensible even to those who know her well because they too can't tell when that switch will go on. In this marriage, she was the one who had taken on the burden of keeping the precarious balance as he hacked away at the fragile foundation. This was a fool's errand but she had proven herself a fool to be in this situation. 

Yet finality can be a terrifying thing. The silence and loneliness that came with her decision to emotionally disengage even more so. The house they had bought together in this very uneasy union felt even bigger and emptier. The endless cycles of loud discord followed by begging for peace had given way to a quiet eeriness. She remembered the day they first spoke, the dreams she first dreamed of them together - a real family, a companion for life. At the end of the coldest week of their marriage, she found herself looking at this man as a badly broken human being that needed to be rescued before it was too late. If only it were only possible to slip by his side, naked and hold him with all of her- her full womanhood. Kiss him on the lips and take away all the pain, bitterness and suffering of the past three years, the disappointments of his life that went much further, magically make things whole for the man she once thought would be the one for her. Inhale life back into this wasteland of marriage, make love and feel close once again.

She realized they were both alone and suffering with no one to turn to. She resented her lover on days like this because he did not experience pain like hers - he still has a somewhat normal family that she did not. Sometimes her resentment peaked and she feel like the kept woman that she was not - there was absolutely no deception in their relationship. Neither side had misrepresented the facts of their lives. She pushed her lover away from anger and he sensed that. She wished he would stop loving her because that love could hurt just as much as the lack of it in her marriage. She had herself up in this dense mesh of knots that  know no untangling - they run through her marriage, her past before that, an unknown future with a man who might one day become something more than a lover who she meets secretly. 

Her home is weighed down by the heaviness of unexpressed anger and pain. The night before, it floated up from the basement in physical waves and wore her out. She was not able to sleep. Maybe this is how guilt feels. She has a lover,  there are others in her life she can share things with - he has no one else. He is not the kind to have a lover - that would be too much emotional work for him. The sports channel was all he had capacity left for after being married to this woman. Everything started to fall apart with her within a month - decades of work he had done on himself was undone in a few weeks. She was everything he could want in a wife and yet being married to her was the worst mistake of his life.

Before they were married, this union promised perfection in every way, he mistook that for feeling love for her. He is estranged from family and those that were once his closest friends. To his wife, he has become unreachable now - something has snapped that cannot make him or them whole again. The people that once made up his world are no longer welcome there - he does want their concern or pity for how his life has fallen apart. Her heart breaks for him, but there are no ways left to help him anymore. She cannot recall having hurt for anyone as much as she hurts for him. If this does not mean she loves him, she does not know what does. Somehow the realization that she loves this man despite their marriage being on fire, all the hurt and pain he has caused her, all the dreams and promises he broke was terrifying for her. It made her wonder about her lover - if she truly loved him or was merely intoxicated by sex that gave her closeness she craved for her marriage. Talking of love was so easy once. 

Escape Hatch

Instead of drinking, binging or shopping Sheila found a full season DVD set of Gossip Girl, ideal for shutting her brain down for several hours. The characters and their convoluted lives served as the perfect escape. A bowl of strawberry yogurt with fresh blueberries and chopped walnuts was Sheila's version of the large tub of ice-cream that often keeps solitary movie watchers company. She wondered what about this series made it perfect for tuning out of her own life for a bit. 

As much as she wanted to get over MJ, it was still easier for her to brood over him than not, obsess instead of let go. She had said to Vibha one day "If you have this kind of connection with someone, it feels easier to hack off a limb than let go of it". Many characters in Gossip Girl seemed to have a problem like her and suffered for it. While nothing else about the series remotely resembled her own life, the off and on relationship she and MJ had shared for years became easier to understand through these characters. 


A short beep on her phone announced an email from Vibha.

Shell - Read this article earlier and thought of you. This part in particular

Obsessing about something you don’t have makes you unconsciously brood about what you lack, totally dismissing the present value in your life. Your urgency about getting what you want shouts at the Universe that you don’t care about—or appreciate—anything else. This act of dismissal creates a dark vacuum of energy, one that nobody wants to support or even be around, and the Universe has the same response. Instead of generating the results you long for, our paradoxical intent becomes a black hole of obsessive longing, destroying any positive outcomes that may come your way.

- Vibs

Sheila wrote back :

Vibs - Thanks for sending that. You know that your life has sunk to a whole new low when it takes characters from a soap opera and a pop-psychologist to help you understand what you're doing wrong and how you can fix it :) Never thought I'd live to see this day but again never thought I would subject myself to one such as MJ.

Take care,
Shell.

Just as she was getting ready to head out to work, Vibha's reply came :

Look at the bright side - you are getting the help you need even if the sources are not what you'd like them to be. Stop being a snob and accept the help the Universe is sending your way :)

Leaving And Staying

"I can't stop thinking about you" read a text message from MJ, five months after their last and what to Sheila had been their final meeting. Just one short, terse sentence yet it reverberated in her mind her all night long. That was the thing about MJ - a feral intensity that broke down all barriers and challenged her resistance to him. 

She decided it was best not to respond and allow her inner turmoil to subside. As much as she wanted to move on, she could not help thinking about him almost constantly. In a sense, she felt vindicated he suffered just like her. She chided herself for behaving like an infatuated teen-ager and forced herself to take interest in other men, more plausible relationships than what she had (or not) with MJ. 

She wanted for him to stay or leave with finality but he was much to flighty to make decisions set in stone. He thrived on whimsy and impermanence because they were to him synonymous with romance. While talking to Vibha one weekend, Sheila mentioned her dilemma with MJ. 

"What makes him so special to you ?" Vibha asked. 

"He is the only man I have ever known who can bring out the feminine in me completely. I don't feel like I have to spar, compete, prove or win. I can just enjoy being a woman and let him do the rest. There is something exquisitely peaceful about being that way - specially for someone who has never experienced it." Sheila explained. 

"You feel like you need to assert yourself with other guys ?" 

"Yes. It's like until I establish and enforce ground rules, they will walk all over me. I have this instinct to protect myself, be on my guard all the time. A simple discussion can degenerate to a point scoring exercise. It's me versus him and I hate that - it tires me out. With MJ, I can just relax and be myself. He will humor me even when I being bitchy and obnoxious - it just does not bother him. Instead of aggravating me he will say or do something that makes me forget what I was ranting about. I think we bring out the best in each other. He loves how he can make me feel - it is very satisfying to him as a man." 

"So, you don't want to be back with him ?"

"He has to choose to stay with me and I can't make him do that. I can choose to leave and logically I have - years ago" 

"Emotionally is harder ?" 

"Sometimes it feels impossible actually and I wish he would let go off me emotionally. Once the connection snaps - we'll both be free. It does not help for him to do what he does - reach out to me again and again"

"I guess he wants to be with you too but just does not know how to do it"

"I've stopped thinking about his motivations a long time ago. I just know that I like him a lot more than I should reasonably and suffer for it. I used to think that this would fade away - that in time, I would have no reaction to him"

"And ?"

"It hasn't quite worked out that way - at least up to now. Maybe it will fade yet - just have to wait for it to happen and pray for tranquility until then."

"I know you are a strong girl, Shell and will be fine in the end but I can't help feeling sorry for both of you. This would be so perfect if it worked out"

"I told MJ once like a bad habit that is impossible to kick and he said "I don't think of you that way. I think we have something very special and feel good about it. You should try feeling more positive about us too"

"I wish I had some wisdom to offer or know of a way to resolve this.."

"That's okay, Vibs. Thanks to being a patient listener and friend."

Ennui

If there was one thing MJ was the the absolute master of, it was the art of surprise. After a hiatus of over three months since their meeting in Manhattan, he sent Sheila a text message one evening that said "I can't stop thinking about you". She had to ascribe some truth to that, because scarcely a day passed without her thinking about him. Relationships were nothing if they were not reciprocal.

While chatting with her friend Zubin one afternoon, she mentioned MJ to him. Zubin wondered why anyone would persist as long as MJ had and yet not want to progress in the relationship. "He likes keeping it fresh, new and exciting for one thing - it's always fun talking to him no matter how long we've not been in touch. We'll connect where we left off - effortlessly. Then there is the matter of relationship ennui". Sheila explained.

"What do you mean - relationship ennui ?" Zubin asked.

"Well, MJ has been with more women than he can remember. In the early years, his relationships were driven almost entirely by the need and desire for physical intimacy. If someone caught his fancy, he would pursue her until he had worn out her resistance. After some short-lived but great sex, he was ready to move on. He was too bored to stay. Some time after turning thirty, something changed for him. That is also the time, he first met me"

"Tell me more, Shell. This is getting curiouser and curiouser" Zubin teased.

"He was beginning to see, that it did not take a lot of work to get a woman to succumb to him physically. More often than not, they were looking for a short term fling themselves and had little interest in him beyond his body. He actually felt a little cheated and exploited. So what had in the early years, felt like a conquest was beginning to feel a lot less so. He did not have to chase as hard and he never experienced the satisfaction of a good conquest. If wanted a woman, he could have her without having to fight for it. That became way too boring. He had to do something different to break the ennui"

"What about the sheltered, protected and conservative women ? They would not be available and he'd have to wage a war of attrition as you say he likes to" Zubin wondered.

"But that kind of woman is not his type - he feels repulsed by them almost. So anyway, when he met me he had decided that I was worth pursuing because it would be a lot of fun to get me emotionally involved with him when every rational instinct in me told me to desist if not flee. He could tell right away that I did not sense any long-term potential in him. It became a challenge for him to get me to change my mind. Yet he never had any intent of getting serious himself - he just wanted to see my emotional response to him once I really began to harbor hopes for a future with him. That would definitely give him the kind of thrill he was missing in his life" Sheila explained.

"What he had not counted upon was getting his own feelings hurt in the process. In order to reach someone's heart you have to let go and become a little vulnerable - at least pretend to be. Over time, the fine line between real and make believe gets blurred. Whenever that happened, MJ would fall off the face of the earth and return only when he felt like he was in control of the relationship and his own feelings" she continued.

"So did he win or lose with you ?"

"He defines winning as having the me fall helplessly in love with him, dream about a future together and act completely out of character because I am in this altered state of mind. While none of that happened, I did grow fond of him after a fashion and he of me." Shiela laughed.

"Where do you guys go from here ?"

"MJ will likely look for other prospects worthy of his time and attention. Women who find him physically attractive and are not shy to show it. He will tempt them but never really give in because going all the way is not fun for him - instead he will delay his gratification and theirs. This is a game that he has played so long that everything has become routine and predictable so the only way he can keep it lively is to introduce new twists and turns."

"Every once in a while, he will try to reach me. In time, he will give up because trying too hard is a sign of emotional weakness and he would never allow himself that - he is too proud to let a woman drag him down that far. He'll work his sixteen hour days to blunt the pain and pretend that he has no time to miss me for feel sorry for throwing away his chances of having a life with someone he really liked"

"What a sad, twisted, miserable son of a bitch"

"I would entirely agree" Sheila said.

Previous..

Past Perfect

Sheila had finished cleaning up her cubicle and her computer. The mailbox was done except for personal folder which was always the last thing she looked at when moving from one gig to the next. A professional nomad, Sheila had mastered the fine art of leaving one job and arriving at another to the point it was nearly stress-free.

There was this mail from a couple of years ago when she had started working here with no subject line. The flash flood of memories stormed in the moment she opened it and she regretted it right away. This was possibly the worst time to revisit the past - specially one that has seemed so perfect and attainable.

Chetan - Got your message. Glad to know you made it back safe despite the stormy weather. Thank you so much for coming to see me, for the memorable weekend and delightful company. I'd love to see you again.

Take care,

Sheila.

Hey Sheila,

I enjoyed the time we spent together very much as well. Let me summarize,

1. The meeting and brief walk through the mall.
2. The meeting continued and a long walk through the park.
3. The lunch your favorite Greek restaurant.
4. The drive to "the quaint little town" an hour south.
5. The walk through the downtown.
6. The quirky chai place.
7. The skating rink.
8. The liberty wall.
9. The pizza dinner.
10.The opening act of the guitar concert.
11.Meeting the musician.
12.The final act and you moving to the music.
13.The beers.
14.The ice cream and a half.
15.The search for my car.
16.The retrieval of car.
17.The quest for gas and its quenching.
18.The drive back to your city.
19.The call that turned me back to stay back in your city.
20.The Sunday morning meeting.
21.The conversations on the couch.
22.The last minute breakfast.
23.The new hair-do.
24.The platonic hug - :)
25.The bid well till next time.

Whew..that was a lot of different things. Glad we could make it happen.

Chetan.

Chetan - Lovely summary ! Being that God is in the details...

1. The meeting and brief walk through the mall.
My first impression is "This does not feel wrong". That would be a first in my life. Funny how we both hate shopping but met at a mall and you scored your first point holding the door open for me at Nordstrom.

2. The meeting continued and a long walk through the park.
Feeling of peace and well-being despite myself. The conversation flows effortlessly. This does not feel like our first ever meeting. I notice the unusual red and orange berries on the trees - have not taken in nature's small bounties in a long time. You said berriferous or something like that.

3. The lunch your favorite Greek restaurant.
After you declined to go to my favorite sushi place. Wondered what the sight of freshly rolled fish may have done to the quality of conversation or your ability to keep down your food. Did not get a chance to find out. Maybe next time.

4. The drive to "the quaint little town" an hour south.
Listened to a little bit of something by Coldplay on a warm afternoon. That priceless look on your face when I described the sales pitch some guys have made to me trying to sell themselves as "desirable" husband material.

5. The walk through the downtown.
The unsuccessful quest for the new age look complete with a Free Tibet tee.

6. The quirky chai place.
Notice the kids having fun from the window but can't see the one of kind burger joint that you try to show me. The incredible timing of me needing my evening chai fix and finding just the perfect place for it.

7. The skating rink.
Never watched a sport that close. Felt acutely aware of my missing athletic genes. I could as well be a different genus and species from those boys in the rink.

8. The liberty wall.
Chetan refuses to write "Chetan was here". My Kanada skills fails me but could you have said "Chetan ivaga bandidare" or whatever it is that "Chetan was here" translates to in your language.

9. The pizza dinner.
The beer that I thought may be spiked and refused to share :) I really wanted one of my own.

10.The opening act of the guitar concert.
Amazing what passion can do to a humble acoustic guitar

11.Meeting the musician.
I thought she exuded joy from every pore of her being - did you feel that too ?

12.The final act and you moving to the music.
The "one last encores". You have a left foot and a half - a little better than my two . Did you notice I hear better in one ear than the other ?

13.The beers.
Felt like a juvenile delinquent being asked to produce ID.

14.The ice cream and a half.
Back home these pistachio flavored things sometimes come in an unappetizing shade of green. Notice the Zen about you as you talk to the towing guy and work on the ice-cream in tandem. Am duly impressed and what's best you did not even try.

15.The search for my car.
For a moment I think I have met someone more directionally challenged than I am. The pleasure was short-lived. We sadly discover that your car was towed away for not being  parked right . Ouch !

16.The retrieval of car.
The talk of divine retribution with the cab driver - strange how conversations can go with perfect strangers. The twist in the tale of a wonderful evening - meeting the conman back at the towing place who signs the receipt for cash in pencil.

17.The quest for gas and its quenching.
Blind leading the blind to a closed gas station.

18.The drive back to my city.
I think about the day and am filled with a quiet kind of happiness, wonder if every thing meant nearly the same to both of us. Yet I coil up some with angst - maybe trepidation. Not sure why though.

19.The call that turned me back to stay back in your city.
Did not know that but thanks for staying.

20.The Sunday morning meeting

Liked seeing you as I might on an ordinary morning. It was not a date anymore.

21.The conversations on the couch.
Being called the cud chewing bovine and having my fingers and toes checked out. I draw a line at my teeth though. You put your foot on display and I am not sure if "impressive" is an appropriate and acceptable reaction to it.

22.The last minute breakfast.
I am beginning to think you are a nice guy.

23.The new hair-do.
Thanks to having something besides dental floss to do it with. Liked that you wanted to see me with my hair swept back.

24.The platonic hug - :)
A bone-crushing one though :)

25.The bid well till next time.
The quarter of a full hug qualifying the sum to be referred to in plural.

-Sheila.

Life Line

On what could have been a quiet and even lonely Valentine's Day, Zubin called Sheila early in the morning. There was nothing romantic about it - they were two old friends catching up on a weekend. When she asked him what he had planned for the day, Zubin said "I have already done what I was supposed to today - I called you". Sheila's first instinct was a compelling need to feel guilt - he was another woman's husband and here he was telling her what he was. Her inability to work up contrition, made her feel that much worse. "That's charming and I am flattered. But what about the woman you are married to ?" she found herself asking. 

"I'll probably take her out for dinner and buy her a gift" Sheila wondered how it might feel to be that woman. The husband was going through the expected motions of Valentine's Day - he probably did the same on her birthday and their anniversary as well. To the world outside, they would appear a normal, happy couple. In his heart, he felt no connection with her - calling Sheila to just chat about mundane things was more fulfilling to him on a day considered special for lovers. 

Yet, they had never been lovers - he had never put words to describe his feelings for Sheila and neither had she for him. For the longest time, they did not even know what those feelings might be. It was understood that they had a place in each other's hearts - the nature of which would likely never be fully articulated or defined. In never having transgressed the line of friendship, they felt safe calling their relationship platonic but it was too profound to not matter to their respective significant others. After they got off the phone, Sheila wondered how they ended up in this complicated place - why was it that she did not feel she was doing wrong by Zubin's wife by allowing him to stay in touch with her, enjoy her company even if only through phone calls and email. 

She should have felt bad about waiting for him to call on weekends, having him say "Keep me company on the phone - I have a couple of hours to drive until I reach London" on his way to a business meeting. After talking for an hour, he might call again later and say "Looks like I haven't had my fill of you today. Can we talk some more ?". The man was hungering for companionship that his own marriage did not give him - he was begging her for a little time with her. He did not seek more and would have left without a word if Sheila ever told him that she did not want to continue this situation they had going on.

She simply could not bring herself to be so cruel as to deprive Zubin the one joy of his life - talking to her sometimes. She felt sorry for all three of them - surely they all deserved better than what life had cast in their lot. The wife did not know the Zubin she did - he had never made an effort to get her fully acquainted with the person he really was. Not surprisingly, their marriage left lifeless - Sheila blamed Zubin for this.

He would say, he had tried but she was just not right for him - something that had become evident a few years into their marriage. After the newness of physical intimacy wore off, there was nothing of substance left besides a shared gaol of making things work out while keeping on a happy face. If the life line that Sheila provided him were withdrawn, he might find it even harder to go through the motions of a happy marriage.

Violet Chrysanthemums

This was the third day since that terrible headache started and Sheila was weary waiting for it to fade away on its own. Early this morning she had woken up with a dream about Zubin. He was getting off a bus at the intersection she could see from her house. He carried a small suitcase that looked well-traveled. In his other hand he held a huge bunch of violet chrysanthemums. He looked lean and energetic as he strode up the street to her.

Next she saw both of them in the middle of a lawn, Zubin holding her in a warm embrace. In real life, they had never so much as held hands. She was saying to him "What's wrong Zubin, why have you lost so much weight ?". "Have I really ? Maybe because I have cancer" he replied. She felt the tears come to her eyes, her throat choking with pain. He kissed her on the face only like a very dear friend could. His touch was tender, warm and protective but there was nothing remotely sensual about it. He handed her the flowers.

She wondered about the flowers, Zubin was never the kind to bring flowers, in the twenty odd years that they had known each other, he never had. He believed in showing up and being there for her and doing whatever it took. Then she saw them in a hotel room. He had started to unpack, she was dressed as if it to go out to dinner. "Where to you want to go ?" she asked. "I have to tell you in my condition, I cannot eat any kind of starch - it makes me dangerously ill" Zubin said.

She held him close and felt his tall, emaciated frame. The more he tried to make it a happy reunion, the more she wanted to cry. Then suddenly the dream ended and she woke up with a really nasty throat ache. Glancing at the clock on her bedside table, she realized that it would be the middle of a workday for Zubin at Ankara. Calling him would not be a good idea. She tried to compose a semi-coherent email but failed even after five attempts. What exactly was she supposed to write ? She went about her morning, worried about her strange dream and about Zubin. At some point, she decided to look up the symbolism of flower colors.

For centuries, purple has been known as a regal color, connoting dignity, pride and success. So pretty plum blossoms are an obvious choice when a friend gets a new job or any time congratulations are in order. But rumor has it that purple can also signify love at first sight, so send that special someone violets or purple roses when you want to show you care.

Like pink, lavender represents grace and femininity, but it’s more refined, more sophisticated and elegant. Pretty lavender blooms are perfect for mommies-to-be; tiny wild asters can say "thank you" or "happy birthday"; lilac-colored roses tell her you still think she’s beautiful, even after all these years.

As with everything that had to do with Zubin, there was so much ambiguity in the color of the flowers. Then there was the flower itself which supposedly represents the essence of fidelity. She would have to wait for Zubin to contact her and in the meanwhile all she could do is to pray for him to safe and well. Yes and happy with the life he had - a life that did not and would not intersect with hers.

Previous...

Memories In Smell

Sorting through the clothes in her carry-on luggage as she unpacked, Sheila could smell MJ's cologne. How would one define it she wondered as she held up the lavender silk top close to her nose trying to memorize every last detail of that perfume - the musk, the citrus and then everything she could not identify. This smell was the end of their five year acquaintance, quasi relationship that was finally not meant to be. It was not a smell she recognized. It was also different from what she had smelt on him the last time they had met - yes, she did remember that too as improbable as that was.

These would be hardest things to forget - touch was tactile and the first to fade out, sound was next. She had erased all his text and voice mail messages from her phone. His number was gone from her address book. The close to five hundred emails exchanged over the last five years posed a very different problem - she could not bring herself to delete them all in one fell swoop yet there was no other way to do it. They would be there to pain her for some more yet until after reading and re-reading their poignancy had finally blunted. She would be covering memories and the pain that went along with them with the nacre of forced oblivion.

MJ would be associated with Times Square at the crack of dawn and that 40th floor room in her Manhattan hotel at twilight. They always knew they belonged together and yet being together was the hardest thing to do. He wanted their emotional connection to be much stronger than the physical one, she did not want to grow that close because she knew MJ had potential to hurt her like none other. He dared her to make a leap of faith, she resisted by reigning in her feelings for him the best she could. Being close enough but not too close turned out to be impossible.The two meetings that served as book-ends to their strange relationship. It was about having found that person with whom it was absolutely effortless to communicate, having shared a connection that was hard to explain given how little time they had spent together and finally there was this amazing physical chemistry.

Yet over the course of an hour, it had all unraveled with a finality that was brutal. From being the woman who had once been unable to resist him physically, she had become the one who defined the boundaries and made him feel vulnerable. She was fully in control. The years had treated them very differently. Sheila had become much more poised and self-assured. She was in a good place career-wise with a clear path to do even better things. MJ had stepped out of his comfort zone to try something high risk and high reward. The combination was taking a toll on him - it showed in how much he had aged, his diminished energy level, his inability to focus on her - on their relationship (or an approximation of it).

He called her "jaan" effortlessly but there was none that life spark in his kisses or his embrace that had once startled and electrified her. He was like a man who had been hungry to the point of starvation but upon being offered a feast felt like retching. Each time he came close to real emotional involvement, he would take time to cool off - avoid contacting her for days until he was more in control of his feelings. In person that evening in her hotel room, he splashed water on himself each time he came close to giving in to his physical desire for her. They both agreed that sex could wait if they were really serious, that it made sense to get married first because there was no reason to delay what was a logical conclusion to their feelings for each other.

The one time that evening she actually kissed him back with some passion, he said "I have to go now, jaan" managing to avoid her lips on his mouth. "Why ?" she asked. "Because I need to be in the right frame of mind to be able to work later tonight. My clients in Singapore will expect me to available at 9:00 p.m EST". he explained. "And ?" Sheila asked. "I am not sure I will be able to stop" he explained. "With me that should be the least for your concerns. I will go only thus far and no further" Sheila laughed. "I am not so sure about myself". MJ smiled. And before she knew it, he had put his jacket back one and was at the door ready to leave.

"MJ, if you leave now, this will be the last time you see me" Sheila called out after him, her voice tinged with sadness and hurt at the same time. "Of course, I'll see you again. This is your punishment for constantly changing your mind about me" he replied with characteristic chutzpah. In another time she would have found that endearing. Tonight she was not even remotely impressed. Ten minutes later, she realized that the idol of Ganesha she had brought for him as gift was still lying on her nightstand. When she called him, he was already in the subway on his way home. Given her schedule, she would not have a chance to meet him before she left the day after.

Always the one to see portents, the hand of fate and divine interventions in her life, Sheila had determined that forces of nature were working against her desire to be with MJ. After five years of going back and forth she had finally found resolution she had sought - the answer to the question that had vexed her the whole time What does God want me to do about MJ. Even if it was not the answer she had wanted to hear, Ganesha had spoken at last. It was now her job to make peace with it.

Catching a few bars of the song I Hate Myself For Loving You, that evening on her way home, Sheila was torn between the urge to laugh out loud at the coincidence and cry until she had no energy left to hurt.


Previous...

Morning Joe

Saturday mornings are Sheila's favorite time of the week. The weekend has kicked in and yet its full potential remains unexplored. Checking her email in bed curled up in her comforter, she wishes for a cup of coffee to materialize by her side magically - that would make the moment perfect.

The phone rings and the instant messenger chimes in near unison breaking the silence. The call is from Katie - early bird as always she is calling to see if Sheila is up for a run in the park. The ping is from Vasundhara, an old friend who has been out of circulation for several months now. V is notoriously late responding to email, never checks voice-mail but will insist on meeting for lunch with a couple of hours notice.

V: Shell, hey !

S : Hey yourself. Up so bright and early ?

V: Have you ever wanted to kick yourself in the butt real hard so you’d stop dreaming about some guy who does not give a shit about you and move on with your life ?

S: Uh-uh. That sounds familiar.

V: And then regretted not having someone to drum some sense into your thick skull because you couldn’t reasonably land a kick on your own butt ?

S: Yup. Been there too

V: So wtf do you do when that happens ?

S: Wait until the urge to dream, mope and kick your own butt dies on its own . It happens eventually. Until then get used to feeling like a prize idiot.

V : What it’s been seven years and it still does not happen ?

S: That sounds like something a medical professional needs to work on. Is it who I think it is ?

V : Shut up ! Yes it is. Seriously, what do you do then ?

S: Don’t know. Mine have never gone past a couple of years. And I used to think I was weird. You give me hope, V.

V: This guy keeps interrupting my life every time I am really close to being over him – his timing is absolutely brutal.

S: You can put a restraining order on him.

V: How do you do that stuff online ? You can't ever disconnect online even if you do in real life.

S: Unfriend, block him , remove him from IM.. Set up an auto-reply that says “Get out and stay out !” each time he emails.

V: But I like him being around him in my life.

S: So you want trouble, you get big heaps of it. What exactly is the problem ?

V: Nothing. Never mind.

S: But seriously. What is it ?

V: I want it over with but cling on hope that he’ll be back and actually stay this time – it proves to me that we share something really special.

S: A strong desire for self-abuse is what I can see you clearly share. Not sure about anything else.

V: He is really fun.

S: Is he still single ?

V: Yes. Technically at least.

S: Nice. You really like him or is he just hot and you’re crazy infatuated ?

V: Mostly former maybe a little later.

S: I am thinking you have the order in reverse.

V: Not true.

S: Sometimes its hard to parse the two out. Been there, done that.

V: Can it be a little of both ?

S: Sure. But its important to know the proportion. Makes all the difference in the world.

V: So what do I do ?

S: Like my friend Danielle would say ask him to shit up or get up.

V: Interesting turn of phrase

S: Try it on him the next time and let me know how he reacts.

V: Yeah

S: You know what you want from him ?

V: I guess.

S: After seven years, that's quite promising.

V: Quit being snarky, Shell !

S: For an e-kick in the posterior, IM me any time.

V: Will do.

S: Ciao!

V: TTYL.

Sheila smiled to herself as she signed off and climbed out of bed. That chat was almost as fun as the day's first cup of coffee.

Previous....
Next...

Story Time

Their "story date" as Umang referred to it, was at a park close to Sheila's house. It turned out that he enjoyed long walks just as much as she did and the weather was perfect. They had picked up a couple of Cuban panninis for lunch. Umang insisted on paying for that and "a drink of her choice". She had gone with a bottle of lychee juice, he got a beer. She told him about the first time she had met MJ.

When she was done, he asked "I can't wait to find out what happens next. Do I have to wait till the next time ?

"Typically, I would end here. But you have only a few more days and we may never meet again - so I'll make an exception." Sheila smiled as she brushed off the leaves from the empty bench. Then she told him about the next time MJ came back to her life.

"Did you guys meet that time ?" Umang asked as he handed her a sandwich.

"No, we did not. Instead, I let him weave in and out of my life several more times over a period spanning four years. I learned lot of things about him during that time. I learned for instance that he had lost his virginity at nineteen to a twenty six year old Ukrainian woman. After they broke up, he dated an assortment of women - typically older than himself."

"He had had short liaisons with married women just for the heck of it. In short, MJ had been there and done that. There was nothing new or interesting about a woman's body to him. He had no interest in her mind or spirit because he had never learned to appreciate those aspects in any woman. He did not get the concept of romantic love unless it quickly turned physical."

"Are you saying he had never fallen in love ?" Umang asked.

"His first experience was a purely physical one - for the longest time that was love to him - it was the only kind he knew. He sought it over and over again with other women but it never quite felt like the first time. On one hand this woman defined perfection on the other she stood for everything he did not want to ever see repeat in a relationship. Over time he came to realize that he was looking for someone with whom the emotional connection was far stronger than the physical one. I was probably that woman to him" Sheila explained as she wiped the last crumbs of pannini from her lips smudging her lipstick in the process.

"That's a good thing isn't it ? A guy like that not looking for sex but for real love " Umang commented as he watched her refresh her make-up in the mirror of her powder compact.

"That's what I thought too. But it turned out that he was depleted and exhausted from his many sexual encounters to the point that the idea of a conjugal life terrified him. In a relationship he could bail the minute he was bored but in a marriage he had no choice. He often said "After three nights in a row with a the same woman, I am ready for a new face". That is not really a winning recipe for a marriage. So, we had this unique dilemma - he thinks I am the one for him, he wants to marry me but he is not able to move forward because he is absolutely sure he will get bored with the physical side of it and that will end the marriage very quickly. Why start something that is sure to end. I found him charming enough to be okay with this rather unique predilection and his even more unique solution to it" Sheila paused.

"And what might that be ? " Umang was curious to know.

"He wanted me to be absolutely free before and after this hypothetical marriage that would take place sometime in the future. I needed to keep him interested in me by having many sexual relationships. Apparently, it would bring out the most feminine in me, renew his interest in me time after time and wonder of wonder bring us closer emotionally. For the most part I humored this crazy idea even though I had no intention of being any part of it. It took me a while to realize that he was dead serious about it and what's more it was a show-stopper in as far as being able to turn relationship into marriage" she explained.

"Just out of curiosity, would this be an open marriage then ?" Umang asked.

"Interestingly enough, no. He would stay home and wait for me to come back from my forays in the world outside. He already had the freedom to do as he pleased, why bother getting married to continue the same lifestyle. His need for this emotional anchor was real and strong, he just did not know how to make it happen. In his mind he was making me an offer I could not refuse - I would have the best of both worlds. He could never understand why I would find this proposition unacceptable" Sheila answered.

"What happens next ? " Umang asked.

"We have a chance to meet for a few hours one evening. This is close to five years since we first met. He had become a pale shadow of his former self, physically I did not find him nearly as compelling as I once did. I almost wished that I had never met him again - at least I would have a memory to treasure."

"Suddenly it dawned on me that we may both have been infatuated. He was looking for someone to idealize and I just happened by at the right time. He never had anything to offer me except in his imagination. I loved the challenge he posed by being so difficult to reign in emotionally. I loved that he was completely honest about who he was and what he wanted. Yet this time I felt very sorry for him - I knew that delaying the goodbye any longer would only prolong the pain" Sheila said.

"So you guys broke up ? Hey, I did not ask but did you want try the beer ?" Umang wanted to know.

"No, I am good with the lychee. With MJ you can never fully break up. He refuses to give up on someone he feels connected to at least a little bit emotionally. He has overdone sex to the point it spoils everything for him a relationship that he sees potential in. Yet, never having experienced romantic love, he has no idea how to engage a relationship without expressing affection physically. The relationship of significance instead of progressing over time as one expects, suffers from the most painful stasis. He will not let go because he thinks he will be able to figure the way out eventually. He wants you to wait until then even if you are not able or willing to stay in touch regularly or do any of the things that people in a relationship do" Sheila replied.

"What about you ? Are you able to let go ?" Umang asked.

"That is not the point of this story" Sheila smiled. "The story of MJ's early defloweration and the downward spiral of his love life since that time is a parable for all guys who are considering losing their virginity young and in a rush. It is getting dark, we should head home before the bugs start coming out"

"Are you taking me home ?" Umang smiled hopefully.

"No, you go back to your hotel and think about what you heard today. Call me sometime." she replied as she waved him goodbye.

Previous...

Irfan And Suniana

Irfan and Sunaina made the most unlikely pair and yet theirs was a very profound relationship. Beyond love, lust and friendship they had found a place where it was possible to be completely comfortable with each other, shed every artifice and pretension and just be. It was a familiarity that had mellowed over time to become this very special, indescribable thing that could neither name or afford to loose.

Then there was the business of life, individual goals, career aspirations and obligations to family. While they were not inherently different in what they wanted, it would be the where and how that would come to determine the fate of their future together. Irfan started out as an intern in an Delhi based consumer goods company and quite quickly came to the realization that his religions and cultural affiliations would come in the way of career growth. When he talked about this with Sunaina, she wondered if he was not being a little too over-sensitive. Maybe there were other factors at play, maybe he needed to be a better schmoozer.

This was going to be one of the things they would have to agree to disagree about and Sunaina was okay to leave it that way. She reasoned that she had no way of knowing how it felt to be in his shoes. Two years out of college and into their jobs, Irfan got an offer from a company based out of the Emirates. Would she accompany him there he asked ? Only a month ago he had proposed and she had said yes but wanted to wait until her career was on stable footing. She wanted to work in America and had been interviewing for jobs. How would that work out ? Sunaina had asked him in return.

How could they now live and work in two different countries while in a marriage. But can't you live and work where I do ? Irfan asked. There are plenty of jobs for your skills and they would pay very well too. Why does it have to be America ? he asked. Because I want to be in a free country, enjoy the right to be myself, do what I want and not have restrictions imposed on my way of life. You can have all of that and much more as my wife Irfan said. But I don't know if I can adjust to the culture of that country. And I don't want to viewed with constant suspicion and disrespect in America because of my name.

This would become the biggest stalemate in their relationship of over fifteen years. She wanted her freedom and he wanted his - it just so happened they could not have it living in the same place. So where do we go from here ? Irfan asked. I think you should go where you think you have a better future, where you will be valued for the work you do and not be judged because of your name. And you ? he asked. I think I should follow my own dreams too - because I cannot follow you to yours.

Why stay behind in Delhi, where all our memories are. I would be miserable everyday without you. In America, I could start fresh. I will miss you always but maybe the change of scenery will make it hurt less. They stay in touch - long distance calls are not as expensive as they used to be and that is such a blessing. They time their trips back to India so they get to meet even if for a few days. Emotionally they are just as close as they always were but increasingly it is becoming clear to them that they have hit the fork on their road together. They can delay the goodbye but it is inevitable.

Being Scheherazade

Sheila was sitting with the girls in the cafeteria working her way through a pathetic looking bowl of salad. This time of the day anything else took much too long to order – the lines snaked into the hallway. “Check out that cute guy near the cash register” Jen said excitedly pointing to a tall, dark-haired man in khakis and a white linen shirt. “Yeah, he’s nice” Sheila agreed. Heather threw in her technical assessment of his butt for good measure which made all three of them laugh.

In a few minutes he was at their table asking “Do you ladies mind if I join you ?” . Sheila had to wonder if he had overheard them discussing him earlier. Over lunch they learned quite a bit about the “cute” guy. He was born in Malaysia but was of Indian descent. He grew up in Indonesia and New Zealand, attended Cornell and was here on a consulting assignment for a couple of weeks. Most importantly he was all of twenty one.

Business cards were exchanged, Heather promised they’d do lunch again – maybe take him to the Asian fusion food place that had recently sprouted downtown, and then it was time to leave. Later that afternoon, Sheila received a call from Umang Mehta. He came to the point quite promptly. “I really enjoyed talking with you earlier. Can we meet again this evening after work if you are free ?” Though more than a little astounded by the suddenness of it all, she decided to go with flow having no plans for the evening.

Besides after the four hour team work-out session (the benefit of had never been evident to her – they continued to remain just as dysfunctional as a group after as they had been before) a drink or three could not hurt. “Sounds good. Where would you like to go ?” she asked. “I don’t know much about here. You tell me” . “Let’s go to the White Gerbera. It’s really nice and it’s not too far from here” Sheila suggested. “I have no shame in admitting that I’ve been lost despite the Garmin unit. Can I follow you ?” Umang said with a laugh.

After some back and forth they were able to work out each other’s co-ordinates and how he might find and follow her to Gerbera. After hanging up, Sheila came to the sobering realization that she had just agreed to go out on a date with someone ten years younger than herself and that would be a first. “Out on a date, Shell ? You look very nice” Barry observed with his signature evil grin as she swiped her badge at the main entrance on her way out.

“Thanks, Barry” Sheila smiled back. She had slipped into her stand-by black pumps, freshened up her make up and God forbid even dry shampooed her hair. Clearly the preparation spoke for itself. Why she would go to such lengths for some random cute kid she had no idea.

Flipping through the menu, Sheila asked Umang “Do you realize I am ten years older than you ?”. “Honestly, I would not have guessed that. You don’t look much older than me. But I have to admit, I have this thing for older women” he replied. “What kind of thing exactly ?” she asked looking up at him with mock concern. “You know the young male kind of thing. I’ve always wanted to be in a relationship with someone your age” he replied sheepishly as he fussed with his napkin. “Interesting” Sheila observed sagely.

“Would you be interested ?” he asked hopefully. “Interested in what ?” she asked as she sipped her drink. “In something discreet and intimate with me” Umang replied. “Wow, it does not take much to get to the point, does it ?” Sheila managed to say. “Appreciate the candor, by the way” she added. “Thanks” Umang said relieved. “Since you’ve been so upfront about the nature of this thing you have for older woman, do you mind me asking what exactly might be involved in this arrangement you have in mind” Sheila asked more curious now than offended as she had been a few minutes ago.

“I’d like it to be a relationship but I am really interested in the physical side of it – this will be my first experience” Umang explained. “If I am understanding this right, you are asking that I help you lose your virginity” Sheila said matter-of-factly. “Now I am really embarrassed” Umang muttered. “I would have never guessed. Thanks for telling me” Sheila said laughing, making him smile as well. “Yes, that’s kind of what I am asking for” he admitted. “That, Umang is a lot to ask for” Sheila said almost seriously making him choke over his food. “Why do you say that ?” he asked.

“For one thing it’s a pretty big responsibility. You are going into this thing based on what you imagine it will be like. There is only one first time and one virginity to lose. If it does not quite work out the way you imagine it will, you’ll be very disappointed. That’s the kind of disappointment that sticks for life. I'd hate to have any part of that deal” she explained.

“But I really don’t care. I mean this whole virginity business does not mean anything to me. I have been sort of saving myself but I have no idea for what and even why. Right now, I just want it over with. ” he said.

“That’s what you think now. You may feel very different about it in ten years. And also before I forget to mention it, this is the most bizarre conversation I’ve ever had when meeting for a drink after work. I can’t even imagine I am sitting here talking this stuff with you” Sheila said as rummaged in her bag for her ringing cellphone.

After she had checked her voicemail, she said “Look Umang, I can’t really help as far as the thing you have for older women. You’ll need to find someone else to deflower you so to speak. But there is something I can do for you”.

“You know, Sheila, I think I rather like you. You could be a lot of fun to just hang out with – even if as you say it does end up with me getting deflowered” he laughed. “Are you already in a relationship ? Sorry if I sound too inquisitive but I am really curious” he asked.

“Sure, we could hang out sometimes. As for the question, the answer is yes and no. Does that satisfy your curiosity ?” Sheila smiled at him.

“Makes it worse but I can deal with it.” Umang replied. “ So tell me about what you could do for me”

“I will tell you a story about a guy who like you had a thing for older women. Got started at age nineteen with someone seven years older than him. He is in his mid thirties now. You know hindsight is a wonderful thing when you can stand on someone’s shoulder and look back at the life they’ve lead, learn from the mistakes they’ve made without having had to live through those experiences or suffer the consequences. I could share his story with you. Maybe there is a lesson there that may give you something to think about.” Sheila answered.

“One check please” Umang said firmly refusing to let Sheila split the tab. “Gives me an excuse to meet you again. Now you owe me a dinner” he explained. “Thanks, Umang. Next time, I will tell you about MJ” she said.

“This is like Scheherazade and the Thousand Nights – a small part of the story every time we meet” Umang said with a laugh as they headed out.

“Hey, it was nice meeting you. Thanks for the dinner. Call me later in the week and we’ll plan something for story-time. In the meanwhile, try not to get deflowered. Wait at least until I’m done telling you the story. I promise it won't take a thousand nights” Sheila said.

“Great meeting you too, Sheila. I can’t wait to see you again.” Umang replied.

Previous....
Next.....

Magic Connection

It was a crazy day at work but that did not stop Sheila from noticing several women had received bouquets of flowers at work. It was Valentine's Day. Her last meaningful relationship had ended over a year ago and it seemed to have depleted her of the energy to forge a new one.

Sometimes she wondered what Jayant was up to - she missed his once familiar presence in her life like one might miss a well-known sweater when it has been misplaced. Had he found a woman who would not expect emotional closeness in the relationship because he was terrified of it. Was there a woman out there, who never needed to be held close or told that she was loved and cherished, a woman who never felt vulnerable, or cried or needed to be comforted. A woman who did not have her act completely together and sometimes wanted a man to figure stuff out for her. All the things that Sheila had done when she had felt close enough to him to drop her guard, all the things that killed their relationship. Yet Jayant was a good man and she was glad she had met him.

Even if there was such a woman, Sheila thought to herself, she'd likely not be getting any flowers delivered to her at work today. A card with a small hand-written note may be as far as he might go like he had with her. A card wishing her love and happiness in life with or without him. That was like Jayant.

During a late afternoon meeting her phone rang , the discussion paused briefly as she answered. " I am in a meeting now, call me in about four hours when I am at home". The meeting resumed. No one in the room realized the significance of that call to Sheila. No one would know her day had changed in an instant.

"How have you been, Sheila ?" was the first thing Zubin asked when he called her again later that evening.

He was a very dear friend from a long time ago. Zubin had said once to her "I adore you" and to Sheila that had been far more profound than any florid expression of love and passion could ever be. She had noticed the use of the word adore instead of love. He did want to convey the true essence of his feelings through that word - namely "to love in the highest degree; to regard with the utmost esteem and affection; to idolize"

Ten years after their first meeting in their school hallway, they had briefly revisited the issue of defining their relationship and had failed to come up with one that easily translated to marriage. Through the ebb and tide of love in both of their lives, they had held on to each other for support and guidance. Zubin had married a few years ago and was now a dad.

It had been a year since he had last called. Zubin's wife did not know about Sheila. "She would not understand our friendship and I am not doing anything that requires an explanation. You know Sheila, in marriage it is best not to know some things about your spouse. My wife may have things in her life that I would rather not know - it would be too complicated for her to explain. As long as I don't know I would have no gnawing questions. I prefer it that way" he would say.

He called her when it was convenient for him to do so. They conversation drifted from one thing to another in ways that would seem disjointed to an outsider but was very natural and familiar to them. For the several hours that these phone calls lasted, they were both teenagers once again. There was nothing that rejuvenated Sheila nearly as much as a call from Zubin.

"When are you planning a trip to India ?" he asked. "I am not sure but I remember I promised I will stop by at Ankara to meet you." Sheila replied alluding to a promise made many years ago when they were both single. "Good, I wanted to make sure you had not forgotten" Zubin said. "But what about your wife ? I am guessing she is still not aware of my existence" Sheila asked. "No she is not. I'll put you up at a hotel, so don't worry about that" Zubin said.

"Now, that sounds really scandalous. Imagine a friend of your wife's seeing us together at a hotel. It's like pretending to have an affair when you really are not having one. Is that a legitimate form of thrill-seeking in a marriage ?" Sheila asked laughing.

Zubin laughed as he said "I don't know about thrill seeking. Besides I know how to be discreet. I haven't seen you in over five years and want to meet you. Explaining all this to my wife would be more trouble than it is worth. Look, I don't blame her. If there was this guy who was just a good friend that she was talking to for hours past midnight, I would react just like she would over you if she found out. I bet when you are married you'd feel the same way about your husband and another woman. That is human nature. When you marry someone you become possessive of them, their whole life including a past you were not a part of. We can all be completely rational otherwise but this is one place where rationality fails us completely."

"What happens if she sees your phone bill for this month ?" Sheila asked.

"It is not best that she does not see it ? No husband can ever have a satisfactory answer for why he was talking to a woman for three hours past midnight when his wife was out of town" Zubin laughed.

"Discretion is the better part of valor" Sheila commented.

"Exactly my point" Zubin replied.

He mentioned a chance of him coming to visit his kid sister in San Francisco later in the year. "It will be a short business trip, I will see Persis, swing by to meet you and head back home".

"Are you sure this is a real business trip ?" Sheila teased.

"No, and you know that. It is an excuse to come see you in another country because you are taking forever to come by where I live" he laughed.

"Are you doing anything that you wouldn't want your mother to know about ?" Sheila asked him with mock seriousness.

"It depends on your definition. I can say that I am being the best husband that I can possibly be, have nothing but good things to say about my wife. But marriage seems to have taken something away from my life." he replied.

"I guess I have my answer. So, Zubin tell me the rules of engagement when I get married ?" Sheila asked.

"Between us, you mean ? " he asked.

"Yes. It may be self-evident to us that if we did not do anything when we had all the time and opportunity in the world, so we would not wreck our marriages by trying to have an affair when we are no longer single" Sheila said.

"You are right. That argument just won't fly. For one thing after you get married, I would never call you unless you called me" Zubin said.

"But I never call now you because you are married" Sheila laughed.

"Well, you'd have to email me and we'd have to work something out discreetly" he suggested and they both laughed.

"Now, this is really beginning to sound like a full-blown affair. We are talking arrangements, discretion and hotels with a spouse on the side." Sheila said.

"You are the the most important connection to my adolescent and growing-up years, an incredibly precious part of my life. I would never want to lose that - it would be like losing a whole chunk of myself - that's a lot to give up even for marriage." Zubin said in a voice that sounded more sad than serious.

It was like he was asking her if he was worth as much to her as well, if she would like him go out on a limb for the sake of their old friendship. A friendship that had never become a romantic relationship and yet was an incredibly significant one to both of them - a deep connection that they had never been able to define to themselves and would therefore never be able to explain what they shared to anyone else. As they grew older, they found it easier to admit how they felt about each other - even doing that had been impossible once.

"Do you realize that you called me on Valentine's Day ?" Shiela asked.

" Hey that was totally unintentional. I did not realize that it was the 14th. I have been thinking about you for a few days and wanted to check on you - see how you were doing" Zubin hastened to explain.

"Now you just ruined my day for me" she teased him.

"Happy Valentine's Day to you, Sheila" he said with a smile in his voice that she longed to see.

This was the first time in all the years that they had known each other that he had wished her on Valentine's Day.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Zubin." she replied.

Many years ago saying this to each other would have been a game-changer in their relationship. Today, their friendship was deep enough to allow for such a liberty without altering it in anyway. This was not something his wife could understand. It would only leave her with painful, unresolved questions and doubts if she found out. And yet, Zubin was the man who always said " How much longer are you going to take to find yourself a man to marry ? "

Maybe between Zubin and Sheila there was complete, unconditional love that could not be confined in the traditional structure of marriage. A feeling of blissfulness filled Sheila after she got of the phone with Zubin. This was the kind of magic that is worth more than a few sacrifices.

She wondered about the definition of fidelity in marriage and how circumstances conspired against people to render it pliable over time. Enjoying her company was not cheating in Zubin's book and to protect his wife from hurt feelings, he did so discreetly. Yet in the very process of doing so, he attributed to an other innocent action an air of complete impropriety. It bothered her that he seemed to revel in that thought.

For her part, Zubin was the boy she had grown up with and shared an unique emotional intimacy with that he just did not with his wife. To deny herself the simple pleasure of talking with him to protect the feelings of an unknown woman was a difficult sacrifice to make - she thought she did her part by never writing to him or calling him after he got married.

When he called her once in a very long while, she could not summon the strength not to talk with him - and each time she felt guilty of being in a secret relationship with another woman's husband. There was the undercurrent of unexpressed feelings and an intense attraction that made these conversations so special and therefore also wrong between a married man and another woman.

She tried to place herself in the wife's shoes. She could view Zubin's undiminished emotional attachment to Sheila as far more damaging to their marriage than a one-night stand with a stranger. Neither Zubin nor Sheila would get an credit for keeping their friendship completely platonic for so many years despite all the talk of hotels and discreet arrangements - it had never happened and never would. They both valued their friendship far too much to risk anything like that.

Wouldn't telling your spouse the whole truth about yourself be so much simpler Sheila wondered. Her thoughts went back to Vibha and her husband before they returned to Zubin and his wife. Each friend had told her that ignorance was better and knowledge about one's past life should be shared only on a need to know basis. Often the truth is far too complicated to be told or fully understood. In the end the holy grail of marriage seemed to be peace at all costs. And what a steep cost it was at times. Sheila was not sure that they were right or that was the only way marriages worked. Maybe hers would be different.

In her prayers that night, she wished for more than a miracle in her life - a man she could love all her life and who would also have the generosity of spirit to understand what Zubin meant to her and accept their friendship graciously.

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The Kiss

A month, a remodeled kitchen (for Jayant) and a change of job (for Sheila) had passed when they returned to her place after dinner and a movie. They had stopped for some groceries on the way home. She let him unload the packages from the car as she went inside to straighten up the living room. It was already late so she did not know if Jayant would even step inside. Then on an impulse she went into the bathroom to brush her teeth and freshen her makeup.

When she came out, Jayant had everything put away in the fridge and was taking his coat off. She sat a little away from the end of the couch and as if on cue so did he. It was like the scene from the last time they had been together was unfolding with a slight variation. He stretched his legs in front of him, his body language much more relaxed than it had been the other time. In a pause during their conversation he looked at her and said “You look very beautiful”.

Sheila smiled and asked “You mean right now ?” "Yes . You look happy and beautiful." he added. Then he leaned over and kissed her - the touch of his lips on hers soft but assured. “I know I should not but it's very hard not to ” he said as if by way of apology. When she laughed, he reached over and kissed her again - this time with much more passion.

She asked “Are you sorry about what you just did ?” “Not right now” he said softly as he kept kissing her. "How about tomorrow ? Will you regret it ?" she urged. "I think I will" he said but made no effort to stop. At some point, Sheila responded and his body reacted like an electric pulse had surged through it. “It's very hard to be around you and not show any affection” he said a little breathlessly."You try very hard though" she teased. "You think I do ?" he laughed.

They both feared intimacy but for different reasons. Sheila wanted to be absolutely certain it was the real deal and would last for life before she went that far. Jayant found it difficult to remain objective in his decisions about the long term prospects of a relationship once things turned physical. To rationalize what happened that night, they both agreed there was nothing wrong in wanting to be close and kiss someone you had a romantic interest in for a while. It did not have to be the game changer - it was a beautiful experience they would both cherish but continue as if it had not happened.

But there was something that Sheila did not admit even to herself until much later - that she had known for a fact that there was no future for her with Jayant at that instant when she had brushed her teeth. She was attracted enough to him to want to be kissed and held but that was probably all she wanted - she could not imagine making love to him.

She had sensed that the ice could break that night and wanted to be prepared. It was almost as if the incident had been choreographed - nothing about them was spontaneous because that connection had never sparked. That kiss had taken a lot of cuing - subtle prompting even to happen and just that was enough to tell her that he was completely unsuitable for her. Yet she had wanted it, if only to prove she could get what she wanted.

But she hated to admit it to herself that she had used Jayant because she had no interest in him long term. How was she any different from the men who lost interest in women right after sleeping with them - the kind of men her she and her girlfriends found so repulsive and disgusting. How could she claim any moral high ground after what she had caused to happen. The end of her relationship with Jayant was full of anger and bitterness which she chose to direct at him instead of coming to terms about her real motivations to herself.

For months she pursued the actual idea of marriage with him if only to absolve herself from feeling guilty. That night, she was the one in charge and decided how far to go and where to stop. If was only afterward that he regained control of himself and the situation. In the clear light of day, he was confused by what had happened and failed to understand how that incident could turn their relationship absolutely serious. There had been no emotional context leading up to it.

He had not felt anything special like Sheila insisted it had been for her. She accused him of being disinterested, emotionally distant and worse for saying so. The truth was, she did not want him to think that she seduced men when she felt the need for intimacy. The truth was, she would find an excuse to bail out if he did indeed consider marriage the next step. The truth was, Jayant was not the one for her and she knew it fully well that night and that was the only reason she threw caution to the winds.The truth was, the she had set herself standards that she was just not able to live up to but refused to lower the bar and make peace with herself. The truth was, she had felt powerful that night and luxuriated in that feeling.

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A Good Yarn

It is generally known and accepted that everyone loves a good story specially when it told well but this article discusses the science behind our love for a good yarn. Here is how Raymond A. Mar, assistant professor of psychology at York University in Toronto defines a good story :

But the best stories—those retold through generations and translated into other languages—do more than simply present a believable picture. These tales captivate their audience, whose emotions can be inextricably tied to those of the story’s characters. Such immersion is a state psychologists call “narrative transport.”

A lot of coming of age or otherwise autobiographical stories would be appealing and memorable for reasons the professor describes. Translated to my own little world, that may have something to do with J's vociferous rejection of stories with characters she either cannot relate to or with characters who do and say things she finds unacceptable. The "narrative transport" just does not happen. The question of a "believable picture" is critical to her as well. That eliminates most fairy tales and Harry Potter like fantasies. Oddly, science fiction is quite acceptable - maybe because her generation is growing up around so much change, churn and innovation in technology. What she had not seen a couple of years ago, is now part of her daily life.

Anthropologists note that storytelling could have also persisted in human culture because it promotes social cohesion among groups and serves as a valuable method to pass on knowledge to future generations. But some psychologists are starting to believe that stories have an important effect on individuals as well—the imaginary world may serve as a proving ground for vital social skills.

This need is met by a slew of coping and survival themed books when the experience is shared like a story instead of taking the form of wisdom that is preached to the reader from on high. Might explain why I hate self-help book but like first person accounts by those who have been through a challenging life situation and come out of it better, stronger and wiser. They have valuable stories to tell - modern day parables that the rest of us can learn from.

A Soiree

She did not recognize the woman with blond highlights on hennaed hair who answered the door at Vaishali's. She wore an orange chiffon sari paired with a beaded halter top choli and teetered dangerously on her heels as she tried to reign in a flowing pallu.

Sheila had to guess the woman was not accustomed to wearing a sari. Once inside, she melted into a crowd that was comprised of clones of her. It was like being on a Bollywood set when a choreographed dance sequence is being filmed - you can't tell one dancer in the group apart from the other except for the color of their attire.

Vaishali's dos were always fancy and elaborate, the food was catered and often there was a musical soiree. Today there was a ghazal singer and most of the guests clustered around him. Arun saw her first and waved enthusiastically. "Unless you are a ghazal fan, let's go outside - its less noisy" he said even before she had greeted him.

"You look wonderful !" she said. The deck was deserted except for a couple of smokers.

"And so do you. As a matter of fact, you look quite lovely" Arun replied with a big smile. "Tell me how have you been ?"

"Work's been very busy" she said and paused trying to think of the best way to summarize her life outside work in the past year (or largely the lack of it) in a couple of words.

"And ?" he asked eagerly.

"And nothing when you net it out" she answered with a laugh.

"I know exactly what you mean. Two highs plus three lows equals zero. Right ?" he sighed. Sheila nodded in agreement. "How about yourself ?" she asked.

"Professionally this has been an amazing year. I'm working on some great projects, have been traveling to the Far East regularly for six months. The money's been good too - can't complain. I'm here on a client assignment. In theory I am still single" Arun said.

"Why only in theory ?" she asked as she reached for a napkin to wipe a small spill on the table.

"I don't stay long enough in India to get to know someone well. My sister introduces me to these random women when I'm in Bangalore but you know those things just don't click. You are both anxious to make an impression because of all these expectations. Then nine times out of ten, the women don't see husband potential in me. They decide they want to be my friend just like you" he explained with a laugh.

"But I guess the more important question is do you see wife potential in any of these women ? You might be more willing to go the distance if you did" Sheila said ignoring the remark about their friendship.

"Maybe I don't. I did meet this Malaysian girl I met in Kuala Lumpur who is really my kind. I think she likes me too. More importantly she gets me. I don't want to go too fast and spoil it but I have to move fast enough to keep her interested in me . You know what I mean ?" he asked.

"Yes, I most certainly do. A few words of wisdom from someone who's been at the receiving end - don't set a pace that you are comfortable with. If you want to get anywhere with her, work at her pace even if its really difficult for you to do so" Sheila said as memories of Jayant came rushing back.

"That is good advice, Sheila. I'll remember that. I'd really hate to blow this one away. Ayu is the nearest I have come in many years to finding a woman I could imagine growing old with and having kids with" he said wistfully. "I turn forty two next month - I can't explore my options forever" he added with a sigh.

"That's a pretty name " Sheila commented.

"Do you want to go back in now ? They have the dance music on and the Bolly-babes seem to be setting those hardwood floors on fire ! Should be worth a dekko don't you think ? " Arun said as he glanced through the French window.

"Sure. You could go shake a leg with them too" Sheila suggested.

"Don't you want to dance ?" he asked.

"No, I'm good. It's a lot more fun watching besides discretion is the better part of valor" she replied.

"How do you mean ?" Arun asked as he held the door open for her.

"After one drink too many, some of us who would not be caught dead on a dance floor throw caution to the winds, groove and gyrate to Bollywood item songs" she said with a smile.

"Stay sober and make sure you drag me out of there before I make a complete ass of myself" Arun said chuckling at her remark.

Vaishali was coming towards them and said to Sheila almost reproachfully. "Where have you been ? Have you had anything to eat yet ? We've been looking for you. Have you met the Parekhs ? Come on, let me introduce you" she said steering her away.

"I'll see you ladies in a bit. Time to make myself useful to the Bolly-babes" Arun said with a laugh.

It was past midnight when Sheila got back home. Arun had spent the rest of the evening with the babes and walked her to the car when she was leaving. "Sheila, I know it will finally work out. You'll meet the man who you will be really happy with. I had given up hope too but Ayu came into my life just out of the blue. If you ever need to talk, call me. " Arun said as he gave her a hug.

"Thanks, Arun. Say Hi to Ayu for me and don't forget what I said about pace" Sheila said as she started the car.

"Yes, Ma'am and I won't forget. As always it was wonderful to meet you again. Good Night, Shells !" Arun replied as he waved goodbye.

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