Married Woman Read Free Page A

suspicions.
    ‘Why is he writing so much to you?’ she asked every time a letter came. By this time there were two people waiting for the post, Astha and her mother.
    Is it a crime?’ Astha replied.
    ‘You are too young to be indulging in such goings-on.’
    She made it sound so sordid. What words could Astha use to a woman who saw the world in terms of goings-on?
    ‘There is nothing going on‚’ she said, lying with great dignity. There was no need to explain the pulpiness of her heart, the wretched and permanent knot in her stomach. No doubt her mother would consider that a going-on too. How she wished she could really be gone, gone in the arms of Bunty, who would hold her close, whisper his love, confide that her letters had made him realise she was his soulmate, they would marry after he graduated, could she wait for him.
    ‘You have got your exams coming‚’ went on Astha’s mother, staring hard and penetratingly at her daughter.
    ‘I know‚’ said the daughter, staring back just as hard.
    Astha’s mother sniffed, a tight cold sniff.
    Astha paid no attention. She was living in a world of her own, waiting for the holidays to come, so that she could see Bunty. It would be different now, no awkwardness or shyness. They were closer, they had shared their thoughts and feelings. Hopefully they would kiss. Where and how? She imagined the places, grew lost in her fantasies.
    The holidays came. The minute the mother knew that Bunty had come, she went to his house and from then on Bunty refused to have anything to do with Astha.
    For a long time she didn’t know what had happened, nor could she bear to find out. She lived in pain and anything that touched it was too much for her.
    *
    The night before, on the phone, she had fixed to see him, this time she would not need Gayatri. She had spent many hours thinking about her hair, her clothes, should she wear casual or formal, new or old? How should she do her hair? Up or down? Loose or tied?
    Dressed in her newest churidar kameez, tight around the hips, loose around the waist, Astha went to Bunty’s house, at eleven o’clock as planned. His father met her at the door.
    ‘Bunty is not at home, beta‚’ he said politely, without asking her in, a slap in the face for Astha, standing awkwardly in her new churidar kameez, so tight around her hips, so loose around her waist.
    ‘When will he be back, Uncle?’ she managed, dread making her voice heavy. Did Bunty’s father hate her? Had Bunty said something to him? On the train home from the Defence Academy had he decided to loathe her instead of like her? Was this his way of letting her know ?
    ‘I don’t know, beta. It is his holidays, he has so many friends and relatives to see. You can phone him some time. Bye now.’
    The door was closed before she was even down the steps. No seeing her off, no nothing.
    She walked home, feeling sick. The year of writing to each other, he had said he wanted to see her, had he been lying, seeing how far she would reveal her feelings in those stupid letters before he showed them to his father? How could she have forgotten the little interest he had shown in her when he was actually in Delhi? He was amusing himself, that was why he had written, now when it was time to meet he intended todrop her. How Gayatri would laugh. Was there any way she could stop being friends with Gayatri right that minute? Dump her for ever, and never see her again?
    Astha had not been in the house ten minutes when Gayatri called. ‘What happened?’ she asked breathlessly, as though she had been the one waiting all these months to be kissed.
    ‘Oh nothing‚’ said Astha airily, through gritted teeth.
    ‘Nothing? What do you mean nothing?’
    ‘It’s very sad. One of his uncles died, and he has to go to Bombay immediately with the whole family.’
    ‘But why didn’t he tell you?’
    ‘There wasn’t time to write.’
    ‘Odd‚’ said Gayatri after a pause. ‘He might have met you for a few