Chapter 5

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Doctor!

I had nothing to do at home today. After lunch, family members started to depart. Then I called my family and had a lengthy talk with everyone, including Durga. I was quite saddened when Amma told me that there had been no update on Akka. At this point, all I can do is wish her happiness, wherever she may be, but for some reason, it's difficult. I think it's not something I can do easily. My mother-in-law talked extensively about my doctor-spouse. I helped her with the cooking and cleaning. Despite the fact that I hated her for disrespecting my Appa, I learned that she had been pursuing her son's marriage for many years. She says, "I'm becoming old-ma; he's my only son; how can I let him live alone? Isn't he supposed to carry on our bloodline? He was careless about any of it; all he cared about were his books, which he had adored since childhood and his doctor profession." She is simply a mother who wants her son to live happily with his family and children. And she is expecting children shortly. I can't blame her; she reminds me of my Amma.

While cooking she said something that touched my heart so deeply. "Sathya, don't think you were deceived into becoming his wife, don't think of yourself as a substitute for your sister, don't let these things disturb you. It is true that you had no other choice but to take your sister's place and we forced you but everything that happens in this world is already written by God. This is the destiny of both of you, ma. You must embrace the reality that you are now my daughter and my son's wife, not your sister's replacement and I will never see you like that. Bala is my son, he was always gentle and kind, don't be afraid." I felt relieved after hearing her kind words, even though my life is mine to decide but got written by the old man who suggested this option. I really don't want to see that old man again. Whatever it is, I shall accept my life. When she caressed my head to face with tender care, I missed my Amma. She is true, this must be my fate or destiny.

Kerala is stunning, especially in the evening. Our village was also kind of close to the Kerala border but here the air, the surroundings and the people everything is more beautiful than what I heard from. Our street was near some paddy fields, tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the city. We mostly had three neighbours; others were a little further away. A Muslim family lived in the house next door to ours, we were separated by a small wall, which had a gate to pass through. That was because we had the same landlord. Amma has a wonderful relationship with them, so she introduced me, cheerfully.

"Amma, don't worry, I'll look after her, you can leave her with me. Sathya, my name is Aisha, and you may contact me at any moment if you need help," My sister's age, a young girl, stated while cradling a 2-year-old boy in her arms. I gave her a friendly grin and nodded. Because her husband is a history professor at Kerala University, Amma said they came from Malabar (northern part of Kerala). She married at the age of sixteen and had three children at the age of twenty-three. I felt something towards her, I'm not sure what it was, maybe sympathy for not having a life like mine, or perhaps sympathy for having one.

One of our neighbours does not get along with any of the families in the neighbourhood and the other is an empty house.

"Every day, the husband and wife in that house fight, he is a drunkard. Poor chechi! (elder sister). I pity their children; fortunately, alcohol is haraam (religiously prohibited) for us," Aisha-chechi said to us.

"They're still at odds! Oh, Shankara! (Lord Shiva) Poor girl!" Amma expressed concern by covering her lips with her palm.

Drunk people are frightening wherever; I've witnessed Muniswamy, a drunkard in my village, assaulting his wife every day. I'm worried about Durga because I once saw her Mama drinking with his friends and didn't tell her. Now I feel I should have brought it up with her. I feel guilty now.

"Don't worry, Sathya, Bala doesn't drink," Amma said cheerfully.

"Bala chettan (elder brother) is a gentleman, to be sure. I've never seen him drunk, smoking or getting into any trouble," With a smile, Aisha-chechi also promised me.

"Yes", I grinned.

Time passed, and he returned while we were watching TV. Amma instructed me to get a glass of water for him. I hurried to the kitchen and came back carrying a glass of warm water. He took it from my hands with a smile and drank it before going to take a bath. A little while later, he arrived with a train ticket.

"Amma, here's your ticket. Your train is at 5:30 PM tomorrow. I'll pick you up at 4 PM, alright," he remarked as he handed over the ticket. So Amma is leaving tomorrow? I asked myself as I reflected on my lonely days in this house. I need to become friends with Aisha or else I won't be able to survive here. I think my face was drowning in sorrow, and he gave me a comforting grin to save it.

"Sathya, you won't be alone," he continued. "Talk to your neighbours, and you may call me whenever you want, ok?"

"Yes," I nodded once more.

Amma went to sleep after dinner, and I had to do the dishes. I was hesitant to enter our room since I knew he would be there, possibly waiting for me. I have a great understanding of what happens after marriage amongst newlyweds because I was the class topper and was excellent in biology. Before entering the room, I swallowed my fear. Surprisingly, he was reading a book on the bed while dressed in a sleeveless vest and lungi. That was the first time I noticed him wearing glasses. I crept in like a lost chick.

"Are you sleepy?"

"A little,"

"Then go to sleep; sorry, I'll be reading for a little longer,"

"Yes, that's ok," I rested beside him, one hand distant, like from the morning. He was entirely absorbed in his book. I desired to know what he was reading, what the topic was, and who wrote it. But I don't want to annoy him while he's reading quietly. Maybe he sensed it since I was watching so intently.

"This is not a medical book, one of my friends authored it, it's called Forest Fireflies, a tale about his childhood, it's in Malayalam," he said without facing me and didn't forget to add his warm smile.

"Wow!, Doctor, you have an author friend!" I asked excitedly, then realised I had called him "doctor", and quickly closed my mouth, blushing.

"Yes, and you may call me whatever you want Sathya and I like it when you call me doctor," he responded with a giggle.

"So, is it okay if I call you, doctor? I don't have to address you as Mama or Machaan (husband)?" I inquired enthusiastically.

"Yes, I prefer, "doctor" from you," he answered

"Okay," I'm relieved now. I'd been stumped all day about how to address him. Maybe I was overthinking things, and he's not that irritated by me. However, I am confident that he despises me in some way. He doesn't even touch me, not even a smidgeon, and he keeps his distance from me. Is it acceptable for a husband and wife to do so? I suppose he had feelings for my sister. Am I the unwelcome parasite in his life?

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