In Between

{Fiction} 

There was nothing new in the journey back home; it was just like every other day. While I was mechanically driving the car, she was calmly reading a novel. She had been reading it for the past one week, day and night that almost three fourth of it was already complete, but still she held on to it selfishly like a life jacket and read on. I had once asked her what is was about, and she said building a church. I was amused to see my wife, who can get bored by my analytical skill to be entranced by a book that talked about buildings and church; God was another thing that got her bored. She does bow down in front of the beautiful deities every morning, but never has her eyes filled with tears or her face bore a look of pain. She prays for the sake of praying, some habits die hard.. 


Her face was a symbol of calmness and she seldom animates her beautiful flawless features. But when she does, then it was about something she was passionate about, books or stories. For all other talks, she was solemnly peaceful, I wondered how she survived at office or how others endured her. At times she resembled an epitome of amity, that I wanted to bow down in front of her and pray, as if she was a Buddhist monk. Greedily I wished that she would become a monk one day, and I can earnestly worship her body, with the lust free affection that I always felt for her, that the failure of arousal can be blamed to her godly appearance.

She broke the chain of my thoughts by a smile, saying “That is his favourite song”. I strained myself trying to get the song that had already reached mid-way and I had to wait longer to get to hear the first few lines to understand it. I never was a master of music.. Ah! I remember this song, a neat composition, I had actually liked it, but who was this “HE”. 

“Who?” my words came out as a half whisper and half question.

There was a look of surprise in her eyes, like I already knew him. She might have mentioned him and I might have missed and overlooked it and washed it in my own thoughts of mad river. I rarely listened to her. As I stared at her now, I could see that the lips were moving, and her eyes sensuously vibrant, her hands moved up and down, she was telling something, may be about him, about how they met or more, but my ears failed to listen, my mind failed to work.

The car had slowed down and jerked to a stop on the road side long ago, I was not sure when, I sat dumbstruck at her animated speech. The innocence in her eyes didn’t register the look of disgust and jealousy in my eyes, disgust over myself and jealousy at this someone who was not just someone. Everything went silent; many questions ran through my mind, the helplessness struck me like a lightning and I sat in silence. She jerked me and looked questioningly at the road. I started the car reflexively and drove off.  The blanket of silence heavily covered us for the rest of the journey..