Mrs Rajam saw her only for a couple of seconds. A perfunctory glance. From her living room window, across the alley to No 4, Thangam apartments. And like all women(but only women) can manage, she noticed a few thousand details in a span of a few seconds. The young woman stood in her kitchen, wiping her tears with her saree repeatedly. They just wouldn't stop coming. She had observed the (presumably) newly wedded couple move in a few days back. They had moved in with an old fashioned cot, a few steel bureaus, a television stand, a television, a moderately sized refrigerator and miscellaneous pots and pans. Her housemaid worked for them as well, though. And she had told Mrs Rajam that they were standard fare, newly married, nothing special. She was impressed that the wife chose to stay at home and mind the house, rather than go to work in some computer company and spend hours sitting at a desk and staring at a screen. Housework helped a young wife to maintain her health and her figure, opined her maid. This impressed Mrs Rajam, and contributed towards the sympathy she felt today, for the young woman across the alley. She wondered for a few minutes, about what could have caused her tears. A fight with her new husband perhaps? She wanted to reach out and say, Its all going to be okay. He will come back and beg your forgiveness. And you will pretend to be hurt and angry for a while, but will melt into his arms in some time. She prayed to her deities to fix this hard working young woman's problems soon.
Across the alley in No 4, Thangam apartments, Aparna was oblivious to Mrs Rajam's observations and thoughts about her. Chop chop chop chop chop chop, her hands worked the knife on the onions like she had been doing this for years, when in fact, she had begun cooking only a couple of weeks ago. That, perhaps explained the stubborn tears rolling down her cheeks and onto the counter. Her husband would be home soon, and he'd be delighted that she had made the sambar the way he always liked. Full of onions. She smiled to herself quietly as she remembered the message he had sent her during his lunch.
Across the alley in No 4, Thangam apartments, Aparna was oblivious to Mrs Rajam's observations and thoughts about her. Chop chop chop chop chop chop, her hands worked the knife on the onions like she had been doing this for years, when in fact, she had begun cooking only a couple of weeks ago. That, perhaps explained the stubborn tears rolling down her cheeks and onto the counter. Her husband would be home soon, and he'd be delighted that she had made the sambar the way he always liked. Full of onions. She smiled to herself quietly as she remembered the message he had sent her during his lunch.
1 comment:
Good one as a story and how perceptions can be deceptive and vary depending on the moindset of people.
Post a Comment