The Unventured Passions

The Pudding Witch

They say there is no true love without jealousy, yet it's not love but jealousy that's blind. Some would argue that a little jealousy in love is like that secret ingredient which spices up a simple meal to a delicacy, yet too much of it possesses the potential of slow poisoning the devourer.
Love relationships are indeed funny...
The more you get, the more you want...
And the more you want, the more you feel insecure to lose what you already have, and then this slow poisoning creeps in.
Bondita had grown up with these insecurities. Although loved and accepted by all, she always knew in her heart that she was none but a mere accidental trespasser in her husband's life. She wasn't meant to be his wife, yet there she was, desparately thriving to prove her worth at every step to establish her place in his heart. The zeal to excel in everything, the craving to win it all... all of it were probably ploys to win his attention. Still her husband had refused her closeness!
With the growing years when she truly earned her place in his heart, her insecurities took a backseat, yet readily willing to threaten her heart with the jealousy of the past. She knew he was hers, she knew he loved her, still the thought of losing him churned her core at the slightest of the wind.
He was her precious, and she'd give her life to keep him safe, but at the same time that safety vault was she herself!

That particular evening, the first cold breeze of insecurity ruffled Bondita's thoughts in the form of an uneven welcome.
Barrister Anirudh Roy Chowdhury, as soon as he stepped out of the carriage was instantly pervaded by a clique of white young women, six or seven of them, all dressed in evening gowns, their gloved hands pulling Anirudh towards them. No one spared a glance at her, and she stood still, a little awkward at the sight of her husband being almost dragged inside the celebration hall, leaving her behind.

Not even once did he turn to look at her even!

At the entrance she was promptly stopped by the white guard, as after a good fifteen minutes of argument her husband finally came with much happiness on his face to welcome her in.

"Why are you still outside?" He rolled his eyes.

"Why did you leave me outside?"
Bondita hushed, clutching his coat, and Anirudh only laughted out loud.

"I didn't Bondita... I just assumed you'd follow me in... You're a grown woman now, aren't you?"

Bondita looked away.
She was indeed a grown up woman, but the comfort of being guided by her husband amidst strangers, hand in hand, was something that she could never replace with age or experience.

However Anirudh hadn't held her hand, as they entered inside the main hall, a uniformed bearer approached them, his brows frowned at Bondita, particularly at her misfit cotton saree.

"Stay here, I'll be right back." Anirudh had promptly picked up a stem glass from the bearer before turning towards her.
"This gathering is nothing like I expected. The entire elite Brit-crowd is here, and I probably won't get another opportunity to place my thoughts amidst these political aristocrats." He winked at her, happily, as almost immediately, two ladies came slithering to his sides, and Anirudh offered them his attention.

"Madame Suzanne, Madame Audrey." He bowed a courtesy and followed them, deciding to ignore her completely, or so did she feel.

Strike two.
Bondita felt an unknown wretch in her heart.

There were white skinned middle aged men smoking cigars in the open Verandah adjacent to the main hall, and Anirudh had joined them. While, a group of young women in gowns and hats sipped wine and chatted in a hushed tone. They stole glances at her from time and again, whispering and giggling, and it made Bondita extremely uncomfortable, and made her retire to the farthest corner of the hall, standing awkwardly with her eyes casted away.
Not a single Indian lady was there, and although it wasn't that she wouldn't talk to these foreigners, but the lack of initiation as well as their cold eyes fuelled her insecurities.