Can Love Happen Twice? (17 page)

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Authors: Ravinder Singh

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Romance

BOOK: Can Love Happen Twice?
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Our discussion on this subject didn’t continue for just a few days; we argued for more than a month. And nothing seemed to have changed at the end of it. I had never thought that Simar and I could ever debate on a single subject for so long. It was certainly the first time this had happened. Everything has a first time. That’s what life is all about, I thought.

‘Where women are concerned, the unexpected is always expected.’

It was Happy who said this to me while I was discussing my present condition with him. In the end he and I just laughed. He didn’t have anything else to offer me.

Things did not get any smoother from then onwards. In fact, with every passing day the matter got even more serious. It was unbelievable how little things were turning everything sour. I wanted to stop it. I was badly looking for reasons to buy her argument which time and again I failed to get. In that period Simar and I had experienced a range of emotions, from shouting at each other to not talking the day after, from crying uncontrollably to finally comforting each other. The winds of our relationship had taken a different course. The season of romance had begun to witness something that it had never witnessed before.

When Simar first came into my life, I was almost lifeless. Deep in my heart I was still mourning the loss of my first love. Simar brought me back to life. She had not just brought back happiness in my life—she was the sole happiness in my life.

With this thought in my mind I gradually started to put myself in her shoes and tried to see the kind of life she wanted to live with me. To be honest, I started discounting the illogical part of her argument and started considering the merits that her demand had for both of us.

If Simar is not happy, I wouldn’t be happy either—I started thinking that way.

My theory that wealth, women and wine—or at least one of them—will surely be a man’s weakness, again held true.

And, unfortunately, I was the man here, and she was a woman; she was my weakness. And there was a reason to turn weak.

I had already lost my love once. I didn’t want to lose it again.

One evening, when I was a little high on alcohol, I wrote Simar an email.

To the girl who taught me how to butterfly kiss!

The past few months have been terrible for both of us. And, baby, I have missed you a lot! I don’t know how difficult it would be for me to settle down in Europe. But I think it will be less difficult than seeing you unhappy.

I want to lead a wonderful life with you. But I cannot deny the fact that I have responsibilities on my shoulders. And I want to balance my responsibilities and my life. I want to see you happy. Give me some time and let me see what opportunities I have to move to Belgium.

Yours,
Ravz

Twenty-three

Having done my share of sacrifice, life appeared to have moved back on track. For Simar, it was as if all her wishes had come true. She would thank me numerous times and whenever she would describe our future life she would add something new to her stack of dreams. She would tell me how we would decorate our living room, what all we would cook when it rained, where all we would go to spend our holidays and a lot more. At times she would race so ambitiously in her dreams that she would talk about big houses, expensive cars and luxurious lifestyles. Sometimes her imagination would scare me with the high level of expectations. But then, in the end, I would ignore those fears, telling myself that she was yet again simply fantasizing about the future and it was only natural that she would want me to be a part of her dreams. There was nothing to fear in that, I would tell myself. After all, just because she was voicing these concerns now did not mean that all these changes must happen overnight! At best, I would think, at least she was optimistic and wished for a good future.

While she kept dreaming and concentrating on her MBA at the same time, I flung into action on things I needed to do before I could pack my bags in India. There were plenty of things on my to-do list which needed attention, of which my job, my family and my flat were the top priority.

My whole idea was to align all these upcoming changes with the biggest upcoming change in my life—the marriage. Considering the adjustments I had made in my life to accommodate Simar’s expectations, it seemed more practical for Simar and me to finalize our marriage. But whenever I raised this subject, Simar tended to put this matter on the back burner especially since her final term exams were right on top of her list of priorities. She said she wanted peace of mind to think over it.

I thought it would be wise to let Simar concentrate on her exams and, rather, to take her parents’ opinion on this subject. Thinking this, I called up her dad in Gurgaon. As I dialled his number I recalled our last meeting at his house and the words he’d spoken to me back then.

After the initial pleasantries I updated him on what all had happened between Simar and me in the last few days and how I was planning to shift to Belgium. Apparently he was already aware of the situation through Simar.

He listened to me patiently as I told him of the main purpose of my call—I was talking about marriage.

‘Hmm … What about your flat which was under construction?’ he asked.

‘I will soon be getting possession of it and, most probably before we leave India, I will be renting it out.’

‘And what about your parents, Ravin?’

‘They will join me. I am yet to talk to them, but I believe I will be able to convince them.’

‘Hmm … I would be very happy if that happens, Ravin. But is Simar aware of this?’

‘Aware of what, Uncle?’

‘That your family will be joining you?’

‘I am not sure if we have explicitly talked about this, but, more or less, she should be aware of this. But why are you asking this question?’

Her dad took a deep breath before he spoke again,

‘Ravin, I know that Simar insisted you move to Belgium, but when she asked you to do this, did you try to find out why she wanted to do so?’

‘I asked her and whatever reasons she gave me appeared unreasonable to me. Maybe the way she dreams of her future life …’ I left my answer incomplete.

Simar’s dad waited for a while, allowing me to speak further. But I didn’t. And very calmly, he spoke again.

‘Ravin, if you remember when you were here I did mention to you that, for a successful life together, it is of the utmost importance for life partners to be on the same page.’ He continued further, saying, ‘I had told you that Simar is a pampered kid. At times she is very demanding and I am sure by now you would have realized it. The other thing is that Simar has always wanted her own space which she relates to her independence. This is something she is very particular about. The hard fact is that she wanted to settle down abroad because she wanted to live with just you.’

‘What do you mean just me?’ I asked.

‘Talk to her about this. You really should.’

As her dad spoke further, I was beginning to understand Simar’s actual reasons to move out of India. She didn’t want to live with my family but wanted just the two of us to live together. A series of Simar’s dreams flashed in my mind and I recalled that none had a vision of living with my parents. She had never mentioned anything about us living with them. On the contrary, I recalled always saying to her that we will take care of our parents and be under their blessings. She knew how much I valued family and relations. She also knew that my parents wouldn’t be willing to move out of India.

As the blurred image of Simar’s wishes was getting clear in front of my eyes I was starting to feel uncomfortable. I didn’t have much to say. I simply kept listening to her dad who was merging the broken links to explain to me what I hadn’t fully understood till now.

‘Simar has done well in life. We have always shown her the path on which she should walk ahead in life. Most of the time she has accepted the path, but then she has preferred to walk alone. She has always preferred staying in hostels, even when she was here in Delhi. And we accepted her wishes, knowing that she is not ruining her life in any way. She is an independent person and wants to live her life in her own way. And I don’t see a problem in it as long as she is able to live in prosperity. My only problem is that she keeps such thoughts close to her heart and I suppose she wouldn’t have shared this with you. While I move my entire business to Belgium, Simar wants you to join my business. As a matter of fact, she wants both you and herself to take this business ahead. She wants you to leave your job.’

I was in the dark when it came to many of the stories which Simar’s dad was sharing with me that day over the call. If all he had been saying was correct, then it was shocking for me to find out the truth this way. I felt this sudden urge to call Simar and make her clarify everything to me.

The tone in which her dad had spoken was compelling. It was very considerate and good of him to share those facts with me. Somewhere I realized that even Simar’s family had adjusted to a life as per Simar’s wishes. Before I hung up, having listened to a few more facts about Simar, I asked her dad why they didn’t simply push and convince her the way she would convince them. His reply was crisp.

‘I wish we had done that earlier on in her life. It’s too late now. Not that she wouldn’t agree to do what we say, but that she would end up crying each and every day. I know her. And as a father it is difficult to see your child that way. It has happened umpteen times in the past.’

The entire conversation I had that evening with Simar’s father left me wondering. In the first go, I wanted to call Simar, but then later I decided against doing so. I thought it was better to prepare myself before I got to hear from Simar whether all that I had heard was right. How could she? And why would she? I kept thinking to myself the whole night. Sleep was miles away from me—and so was Simar. I wanted to stop her, explain to her before she went too far away—so far that it would be impossible to get her back. I kept turning in my bed the whole night.

In the morning I went to make some tea for myself. I had a severe headache. I was still going over the entire conversation from the evening before. I kept watching the flame on the stove.

The words ‘She doesn’t want to live with your family, but just you’ echoed in my head.

‘She wants you to come and join my business and live with us,’ her dad had said.

As I stood absent-mindedly in my kitchen, staring into the blue flame, the tea boiled over in the vessel. I wanted to stop it from spilling over the rim but wasn’t able to do so. I wanted to stop a lot of things from spilling over. I was finding it difficult to do so.

A sudden urge, a sudden frustration and a sudden suffocation—all seemed to be running through me all at once. I called up Simar.

It was very early in the morning in Belgium. I knew I was going to wake her up from her sleep. But it didn’t bother me.

Twenty-four

It took her a while to shake off her deep sleep before she could make any sense of what I was saying. I told her to freshen up and call me back, and this is exactly what she did.

Soon we were discussing the entire matter. In the initial minutes Simar didn’t give me a straight answer but when I probed her more by putting my questions in different words, I realized Simar’s father had been right in whatever he had said.

‘And I thought it was all over when I assured you of my plans of coming to Belgium.’

We went into a debate.

She became defensive and fired a range of questions at me for the very first time: ‘Will I be allowed to work and lead my life the way I am doing now? There can be chances that your mother would want me to be a homemaker!’; ‘Your family is quite religious and conservative. Will I get to wear anything and everything?’; ‘You had mentioned that we will have to look after your parents. There will be plenty of responsibilities and expectations. And I wish to spend the entire time with you!’; ‘There will be so many restrictions in a joint family. Will we still be able to go to late night parties?’

And in the end she even had ready her own answer to all her questions: ‘I won’t be comfortable in a joint family, Ravin.’

I wondered how merely living with my parents meant being part of a joint family. More importantly, I was taken aback by the range of insecurities that Simar had been carrying in herself all along. I was greatly disappointed with her understanding of the subject as well as her judgement on it, especially when she had arrived at these conclusions without even discussing them with me.

When it was my turn to speak I was very careful, deciding not to be angry but to remain cool. I wanted to work on pacifying her insecurities as they weren’t right. My family and I were sure that Simar would be working after marriage. I wanted her to wear everything that she was wearing when she was with her own parents. I certainly wanted to take care of my parents because they were growing old. It is a responsibility which I believe every child should adhere to. But that in no way was going to make our life miserable. I understood the meaning of privacy and freedom but I only valued them when they were taken in a justified way—that is, not at the cost of one’s commitments.

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