Across Time

3. coimbatore mappillai (part three)

"It's not huge, but it'll be comfortable," Ashwin said as he motioned around the apartment. His accountant salary afforded a peaceful, private space that he thought would be good for the couple. After the wedding there had been a million things to attend to during the day, and Sivaangi would be asleep by the time he got back. That's why he had been eager to finish up the wedding duties and leave to settle into his apartment. This was the first time he would be alone with her for a good amount of time, a positive step in their relationship. Sivaangi eyed the neat decor and spotless floors. "Eppomai ivlo clean a irrukuma?" He laughed. "Naan konjum neat freak. And when you're a bachelor you learn to take care of yourself in cleaning, washing, cooking...yellamai." He opened the door to the master bedroom. "You can arrange your clothes and items into the dresser. Bathroom is attached." Sivaangi was in awe at how particular and careful each room seemed to be decorated and maintained. He was clearly someone who took care in everything he did. After they had both refreshed, they met in the kitchen. Ashwin gave her a tour of the cabinets, spice rack and fridge. "Ma, nee lunch prepare pandriya? Naa poi suitcase unpack pandren." She felt her heart thump, she hadn't told him of her incapabilities in the kitchen. It wasn't on purpose, she had barely even spoken to him thus far. He hurried out as she began to speak, leaving her deserted. Oh goodness what was she to do?

Sivaangi blinked at the garlic in confusion. She had zero clue how to approach it. She slid the knife around it, wondering if she should split it in two. She had never really cut anything besides mangoes and cake before. Were the garlic pieces supposed to be big or small? Did it matter? Maybe she could just fry it without cutting anything. "What are you doing?" She looked up to see Ashwin standing in the doorway. "Cutting the garlic." He raised his eyebrows. "And when were you planning to peel it?" "Oh, peeling! Right, of course. Sorry peel panna maranthutan." He stared at her for a moment before bursting into laughter. "You have no idea how to cook, huh?" She sighed, then shook her head abashedly. He picked up the garlic. "We don't cook this as a whole. We have to break it up, and peel the skin." They peeled the garlic together, and he handed her the knife. "Small small a cut pannu. Paathu ma, knife easy a slip agum." He watched her movements like a hawk. He then walked her through the steps to prepare a simple thakkali rasam, explaining each detail slowly. She could tell he was starving, but he was unbelievably patient despite her cluelessness and constant questions.

"Super a irruku!" She exclaimed as they tucked into their carefully cooked rasam and poriyal. He smiled. "Nalla irruka?" "Amazing! Neenga ivlo nalla cook pannuvinga nu expect pannla." "Nee cooking la zero nu na expect pannla," he replied with a teasing grin. "But I can teach you. I think you'd be a good student." She marveled at his casualness toward her lack of domestic knowledge. She had told him she had no experience in "wifely duties" and he took it in stride, telling her she could could learn slowly and that they could share the work. Was he always this calm? It was so opposite to her moody nature. She had dreaded the daunting step of moving into his home, but he had made her feel so safe. It went against everything she had heard and thought of marriage. Her friends had complained about their husbands treating them like servants, expecting three meals a day and the house to be looking spotless 24/7. They complained of the frustration of having to forget their own wants and dreams, and the boredom of daily life. It sounded awful. So far her experience had been the opposite, but she wasn't sure it would always be like this.

After lunch they settled on the couch, watching an old MGR film on Doordarshan. When the movie cut to an advertisement of a child feasting on a plate of ladoos, Sivaangi couldn't help but lick her lips.
"Wow, looks delicious. Ennaku sweets na romba piddikum," she announced. "Apdiya? Ennakum romba piddikum. Jalebi, rasagulla, gulab jamun yellam seiyvan. I can teach you." She turned to him.
"Ungalakku ennaku cooking theriyaathu nu unmayilai kovam illaya?" "Seriously illai. No one knows everything. For example, you know how to sing. I don't. "Is that so? I've never heard you sing," she replied with a laugh.

The sound of her laughter warmed his heart. "Kevalama paduven. And you know another big thing I don't. How to be bold." She scrunched her eyebrows in confusion. "What do you mean?" He narrated the story of her on the bus, which she listened to in shock. "Why didn't you tell me this when we first met?" "Why were you giving me prepared, fake answers when we first met?" She looked down, knowing he had got her. "Amma said to be demure and quiet. Everyone says I talk to much and act like a child. They really liked you, so they forced me to act that way." "Your true self lights up any room. Please don't change. Don't change for me, or for anyone else. You're a rare gem in this world." She blushed at his words. "You won't be saying that when I beg for ice cream at 1 am or when I struggle to even boil water." "But what is life without those moments, ma. Besides, I know you are adjusting and giving up a lot to be a wife to me. Isn't the least I can do let you be free and true to yourself?" She sighed. "You might think this now, but what if you change and start expecting more from me? This is really who I am."

He was silent for a minute, then tentatively reached to put his hand over hers. She didn't move. "I'm not sure if you have noticed, but I never do anything impulsively. I think things over a thousand times before committing to them, no matter how small. If I spend so much thought on even choosing a rug for my room, how much time would I have spent thinking about my wife?" You be yourself and I'll be myself. Our comprises and adjustments will come naturally, but I can promise they will be equal."

He didn't get upset when she didn't know basic things most wives knew, he was beyond attentive and he even appreciated her rollercoaster-like nature.

Maybe married life wouldn't be all that bad.

That's the end for the 93 Coimbatore short story as of now! I might continue it in later chapters but I wanted to explore other concepts too. Let me know if you guys are liking the book :)