After the love of adolescence, after the love of the first youth, the subsequent loves are like this. If desired, it can be taken out of the secret chamber of the mind and worshipped; again, if necessary, it can be carefully wrapped in fragrant silk cloth, and preserved with delight in a jewelry box for a long time. This love can no longer escape. It remains, waiting. The lover, the lover, is no longer immature, not careless, nor whimsical like the love of youth. Only after managing the house, home, work, responsibilities, society, and children, can one find some time for love.
Mimi misses Naim very much. From time to time. On sunny days, on rainy days, on sad days, in moments of joy, all the time. But Naim is very busy. Where does he have time? Of course, Naim also loves Mimi strongly, loves her very much. This is like a different kind of love. Weekend love. After the first moments of youth, the love of care in the last moments. This love is a lot of care, a lot of effort. Like the first moments of youth, in this love, the body does not come for a moment, does not come the time to meet, or to get close, the opportunity, or maybe attraction? Still, the attraction does exist, somewhere, strongly. It is not just about holding, touching, sitting side by side for a while, or going on a long drive if you want, or sharing an ice cream together. This love is quite different from that love of eating snacks, eating ice cream, going to the cinema. In this love, everything is very measured, every step is taken, every walk is very measured. But, Mimi smiles to herself and thinks, I have the key to the lock of my mind! I can lock my mind if I want, I can unlock it if I want! No one cares, no one has to answer any questions, or get into any unnecessary trouble.
It is raining heavily today. Mimi sits on her balcony chair, looking up at the sky and watching the rain while imagining Naeem in the empty chair next to her. She can speak fluently to herself. She asks questions, answers the questions herself on behalf of Naeem, and then gives counterarguments against the answers, just like she used to do as a child for the sake of debate. Mimi has been sent from school many times in various debate competitions organized by Drishti and has gone to the national level, and has also become the best speaker. Since then, this habit has become her habit. Whenever she comes up with any new idea, she talks a lot to herself, stands in front of the mirror and talks to herself, argues, counterargues, refutes arguments, and finally gets an answer she likes, only then is she satisfied, she is quite happy with it.
Anyway, sitting on the veranda, she asks Naim in her mind, what is your opinion about rain? Are you a rain lover or a rain hater?
She again prepares both answers in her mind like a debater; and thinks, what will Naim say if he is a rain lover, or in favor of rain, and what will he say if he is a rain hater, or against rain. First, she thinks, well, will Naim, even at the age of fifty, still say in a youthful tone that I feel quite romantic in the rain, I want to wrap my arms around your waist, and get wet in the rain with you? Then, after taking a bath, we both cook khichdi and eat it together?
Then Mimi thinks, no. Naim might say the opposite. He might frown and say, ‘Oh my! How can rain be romantic again? When you see rain, you think, such a big sky, how can it be sobbing like a little girl crying! Just like five-year-old Rini sobs while crying, she makes the thunder in the sky sound like that! And besides, all the meetings are late due to increased traffic in this rain. It’s late to finish work, to return home, everything. Is this still the era of the ancient landlords, when under the pretext of rain, I would sit at home and watch the rain, read poetry, listen to sweet love songs, and my wife would cook khichdi and meat stew, and serve it with pickles? Will there be hot fried eggs and a piece of fragrant lemon next to the plate again?’
Mimi ate a little stunned this time. No, she wouldn’t be able to understand Naim with any answer she had made up her mind like this, and she wouldn’t be able to force her words on Naim like this. So much anger! She texted Naim to ask. But that’s another story. She asked him something, and it took him a few hours to get an answer, but he didn’t respond. But her mind was telling her, no, Naim is not a rain addict, he will be a rain rebel.
This time, Mimi asked herself, which category did she actually fall into? She thought, before she went into rain analysis with Naim, she should actually understand herself. She had spent her whole life trying to know the other person’s wishes, trying to build herself up accordingly. This time, she was free, this time, she could actually sail her own lifeboat on her own terms. She wanted to think, what did she actually want? What did she like? All her life, she had thought about her wishes, her preferences, and had prepared herself accordingly, but she had never looked at what she actually wanted. She remembered that first love. How romantic it was to skip classes and take a taxi ride with your lover on a rainy day! Why wouldn’t it be? At that age, in the early days of warm and vibrant youth, those rainy days were the only opportunity to get a little closer to two people of the opposite sex, to get warm and crazy, by pulling the curtain of a taxi or rickshaw. But today? Oh, there’s another stage in between. When love turned to love, when Mimi first got married, the days of rickshaw-taxi love were over! Mimi started searching for that time in her memory. What were those days like? Mimi immediately remembered. Mimi’s groom was Sajin. One afternoon after her wedding, in heavy rain, Mimi was wearing a blue sari, with heavy kajal on her eyes, looking out the window at the heavy rain. The clock was almost striking two. It was time for Sajin to return home. She thought, when Sajin returned home today, soaking wet, she would jump into the rain herself, holding Sajin’s hand instead of handing him a towel like usual. But what! As soon as she heard Sajin’s arrival, Sajin rushed into the house and said, “Let me eat!” She was very hungry. It was as if Mimi hadn’t noticed that she was waiting for her so quietly! Mimi’s throat was choked with tears. She wanted to say, “I really want to get wet in the rain with you.” But before Mimi could finish speaking, Sajin said, “What’s cooking?” “Give me what’s for tomorrow. We don’t have to cook anymore.” Without hesitation, Mimi prepared the khichdi and rice she had cooked last night without putting it on the stove. She choked. While eating, Sajin asked, “Why aren’t you eating?” Still, she didn’t get an answer from Mimi and said,
Sajin: Well, is it nice to see such a sad face after coming home from work? Can’t you be a little cheerful?
Mimi: Well, I’m cheerful.
Sajin: Where is the cheerfulness? I can see how serious you are? And, why are you wearing a saree? I returned home early today, I’ll take my wife for a nap, where are you preparing to go again?
Mimi was still silent. This time Sajin came a little closer and said, ‘Come on, let’s feed her.’ Without delay, he stuffed the lumpy rice into Mimi’s mouth. Although it was difficult to swallow, Mimi ate it. After eating, while Mimi was preparing to wash the dishes, Sajin removed them from her hands and pulled Mimi to bed in one go. Then? Turning off the light, he became busy with Mimi’s body, and only the stream of water rolled over Mimi’s eyes in the darkness. After a while, Sajin turned over and fell asleep. Without a word. Mimi sat down with her notebook, the only place she could express her thoughts, the diary that silently knew what Mimi wanted, where her pain lay, what she wanted to achieve. The rest of the flesh-and-blood people were so busy!
Scarborough, Canada
