She was quite unhappy. She stood in front of the mirror today and suddenly realized that she had become an old woman. It shocked her how sudden the transformation had been. It was only yesterday that she would stand in front of this very mirror combing her long, black hair. The person who looked back at her seemed to be the reflection of a different person altogether, someone who looked like her mother, or her mother-in-law. Something deep within her stirred in dismay and she shook her head, turning away from that image.
Anyway, she did not have the time to stand around looking at herself in the mirror. Someone had called her from the other end of the house. It was time for breakfast. She hurriedly headed to the kitchen and concentrated on kneading the dough. It was a busy morning and she needed to see everyone off to office and school. She went through the motions absent-mindedly. She forgot the sugar in her husband's tea, which he jovially pointed out, "Anu, age is catching up."
On other days she would have dismissed this as him being funny, but today these same words cut deep. She unconsciously wiped a stray tear from the corner of her eye as he packed his lunch and handed it over to him. As he smilingly accepted the bag and proceeded to his car, she paused there at the doorstep for a while looking at him as his figure slowly became smaller. She remembered how she would lovingly look up different recipes and make food for him in the early days of the marriage. Everyday would be a surprise. She would stand like this at the doorway bidding him goodbye and he would say a few sweet words, promises would be made about returning early or catching an evening show at the cinema. Slowly the routine broke, she did not have the time to pause, she had to quickly get back to the kitchen to prepare lunch boxes for the children. There was no novelty in the recipes even, they plateaued at some sort of variation of potatoes. He would still smilingly accept the bag, but no more cinema rendezvous took place.
She paced back inside the house, which was now empty. The children did not need to be dropped to school anymore, the house needed a thorough cleaning up though. As she picked up after everyone, she felt caged. She felt like a cage herself, a cage whose birds had all flown.
As she was picking up the wet towel from her son's room, she again absent-mindedly looked at the mirror in the room and again that old woman looked back at her. This time, she did not look away but went closer to have a better look, her face had opened up like strawberry skin, her hair had thinned and was mostly white, the laugh lines which her father would jokingly say made her cute looked like ravines on a deserted planet - what has she become! She stood at a little distance to take her entire figure in. Gradually, more shameful facts came to light. The muscles on her arm were loose, her breasts were sagging, beneath her long and loose kurti, she knew she was hiding a paunch. Everyday, during her very quick shower, she would see it, momentarily sigh and think about starting yoga the next day and forget all about it later. Today, however, something had changed.
Earlier in the day, she had gone downstairs to buy some vegetables from the vendor across the street. The mornings are always a hurry and she did not have time to dress up. Her focus was to prepare the food for everyone and she was missing a few carrot and lemon, so she quickly put a dupatta across her worn out kurti and the slippers she had worn during Holi. These slippers are always kept outside the house because they know no one will steal them. They are the rubber slippers that can not tear even if used to thrash a thief! Her hair was not combed and was frizzing all across, tied in an untidy bun. The lift stopped at the third floor, and the new tenant walked in, Smita or Sweta, something was her name. This Smita or Sweta, who Mrs. Saxena from across the corridor said was working in some big company, just like Anu's husband. She entered the lift, looking engrossed on her phone screen. As she entered, she saw Anu and flashed a well-practiced wide smile.
"Good morning, going somewhere?"
She surveyed Any from head to toe, a quick judgement, holding on to that smile all the while. Anu suddenly felt very conscious of herself. Last week they had done a house warming and gone to everyone's house to distribute sweets. When they came to Anu's house she had naturally invited them in for a cup of tea. During the conversation, she discovered Smita or Sweta was her senior from college. they had chatted a bit about the reunion last year. How Smita or Sweta had chaired it and how Anu had missed it as she was busy. This lady standing in front of her, not a hair out of place, perfectly manicured nails, high heels, pencil skirt, her name brand purse was older than her, yet she looked so young. Her skin was powered perfectly, her lips luscious and perfectly colored, her earrings tastefully selected. Anu balled her hands into fists beghind her back, feeling a smalls nails smeared with turmeric. She only briefly smiled at Smita or Sweta as they parted ways.
As she picked a few things at the shop and asked the boy to add it to the family's tab, she wondered where all the years had sped her by, how did she lose everything.
Now, the empty house seemed to be coming at her. The looked at everything which he had poured her heart and soul into and hated it. the curtains that she has meticulously chosen, matching with the color of the wall, the paintings she had made, the showpieces that she curated from her different travels and spent hours dusting and cleaning - they all seemed to be looking her and mocking her. This is where all your time went Anu, you were buying curtains and cushion covers, buying duvets and wall hangings, instead of taking care of your skin and hair. Look where it has brought you now, you look like an old hag and behave like one too.
She moved around the entire house, traversing one room to the other, nothing seemed to give her any respite. She brought out photo albums to cherish moments with the family, she looked at the medals and certificates of the children, she tried to divert her mind by watching some TV - nothing seemed to bring her peace. She felt like a fever was coming on, she tentatively touched her forehead with her fingers to check the temperature, like she did with her children. She drank some water. She made some tea. She took the cup outside to the terrace and forgot it there on the parapet. She looked at her small garden and busied herself in clearing some weed.
After having spent around three quarters of an hour like this, she realized that the larger part of the day was still left. She went inside and took a long bath, showering in hot water. She used all the exfoliating creams her daughter had lined up the bathroom window with. She even used some of the expensive cream her sister had got for her from Paris last month. She wore the pretty pastel dress she had bought when she went to the mall last month and put on some lipstick. The face looking back at her was a little more presentable, but she could still see the dark shadows beneath the eyes.
She picked up her purse. Let me go and surprise Ashok at work, she thought to herself. As she hailed a cab and settled in she remembered how she would often do this in the earlier days, drop the kids over at school and meet Ashok for lunch. She knew things had changed. He was not just a clerk who would not be missed, he was an important person and could not just walk away. As the cab meandered through the traffic, she fiddled with her phone, wondering if she should call once. He might not like her making an appearance out of nowhere. It would not have bothered him earlier, but now, things were different. How did it become so difficult, when did it become so difficult?
She had reached the building where Ashok's office was, it was a gigantic building with glass walls. Just looking at it was daunting enough. She paced outside and fought a thousand battles within before entering the lobby, she would make up her mind and try to enter and then she would again debate in her mind. Is this appropriate, will he be angry, would he again say age is catching up?
"Anu!"
Suddenly she heard him call her name. The voice was not coming from within the building, but outside. She turned around to see him and a few others walking back at a leisurely pace. The others nodded a courtesy at her and entered the building while Ashok came towards her, concerned, "Is everything alright?"
Suddenly she stood there lost for words. The simple request of having a lunch was stuck at her throat, she was unable to say this to the man with whom she had shared the most intimate moments of life, two children, three houses, two cities, innumerable cups of tea, heartbreaks and laughter, yet this simple thing she was unable to share.
Ashok stood there impatiently for a while waiting for an answer, then took her by the hand to the sidewalk and said, "Are you here to meet someone?" After what seemed the most interminable few minutes of her life, she said she wanted to check if he would be free for lunch. The words tumbled out of her like collapsing Jenga blocks. Ashok laughed a laugh she had not heard in a while, "Wait here, let me get my wallet from my office", he said sheepishly like a child slipping out of school.
As he ran back inside, she stood there watching him. He had aged too, there was the bald patch you could not miss anymore, the paunch was there too, she was not alone.
