Miracle Marriage

Chapter 6

Life as a Wife

Two days passed...

"Oh! God! Is this how it's done?" As Amma said, I awoke early in the morning and have been attempting to prepare breakfast ever since. I can't believe my dosa looks that bad. I burned one, one turned out like scrambled eggs, and one isn't even round. It appeared so simple to make while Amma and Akka were doing it at my house. What am I doing wrong here? I really want to cry. At least I got the coffee right. "You can't give up, Sathya," I shook my head and put the batter into the hot pan once more. "slowly... slowly," I spread it in a circular pattern and then surrounded it with ghee. I waited for the dosa to cook with bated breath. I gradually tried to flip it. "Ahaa! Super! I did it!" My heart was filled with inexpressible joy. "A mere dosa like you fighting me... haha... who won now?" As I slid the dosa onto a plate, I said, victoriously.

Hahaha... When I heard the doctor chuckling, I got goosebumps from head to toe. He had been observing me the entire time. I was mortified. I wanted to bolt into my bedroom and shut myself away from him. I couldn't even look at him, so I hid my face behind my palms. Is he still laughing? I inquired myself, peering through the seam between my fingers. He was beaming.

"Sathya, you should have called me, over the years, I've cooked for myself. So, it's not a big deal, you don't have to do anything forcefully just because my Amma told you, ok, just call me, and I will cook," he said with a pleasant smile. But I was irritated.

"I am not a kid, my Amma taught me everything, and I can do this, you don't have to help me," perhaps because of my pride, I replied annoyed.

"You are a kid and I can't let a kid do all the housework alone. I am not that heartless," he said in a tone mocking me.

It irritated me even more. Since childhood, whenever I am extremely sad, upset, or annoyed by someone, I will go mute, conveying my inner emotion through my face. "Your face now looks like bees stung together," says my Appa. I ignored the doctor and focused on cooking dosas. I believe he read my emotions so well that he moved carefully and began making coconut chutney.

"You know Sathya, I am 32 and you are 18, we have 14 years difference between us, so you are a kid to me, but that doesn't mean you are not my wife. It's just we both need some more time to adapt to each other, puriyitha?" (do you understand?)" He mentioned it quite politely. Of course, I understand what he's saying; it's just that I get the impression he doesn't like me at all. I nodded without looking at him. I wanted to ask him if he is happy with me in his life or if he still longs for my sister. However, I was unable to utter those words.

"And, one more thing Sathya, I don't think about your sister. I only met her one week before our marriage just like I met you. So, don't cook any thoughts like that in your mind, you can talk freely to me, anything," his words were so soft and caressing. I felt my heart suddenly become so light. I felt bliss.

"Sorry," I said slowly, "I got annoyed earlier."

"That's fine, it's common for your age group, teenagers tend to get bothered and irritated very quickly," he responded like a doctor.

"I am not a kid if you don't like my age, go and find someone with a suitable age for you, hump!" I got annoyed again because of his professional reply. "Teenager, he called me a teenager," I muttered. "You can cook yourself now," shouted as I walked back to my room.

"Just like I said, a teenager," I heard him yelling and laughing from the kitchen.

"You look like Velayya from our village, old man," I screamed back.

"Who? Who is Velayya?" he asked.

"Nee -than (it's you)," I cried back. I could hear him laughing as I reached the room. I am angry.

"What he thinks of himself? I am not a child, I have anger issues-aa. hump!" I was upset as I took out my changing clothes for a bath and draped them over my bed. "How could he treat me like his patient?" I went into the bathroom and stripped myself. I was furious at him even while standing in the shower. However, I was relieved when he stated that he no longer likes my sister; does that mean he likes me? I pondered. After bathing, I dried myself with a towel and reached for the changing dresses in the hangar.

"Eh? It's not here, where is my dress? Oh, Lord! I didn't take them. How can you forget that? muttal...muttal"... (fool)" I slapped my own forehead, and then grabbed and wrapped the skirt I was wearing around my body. I peered through the half-open door and saw that he was not yet in the room. The clothes I pulled out are still on the bed, and I walked on my tiptoes like a thief, carefully and quietly. As I approached the bed, I grabbed the dress and exhaled in relief. I was about to go to the bathroom again.

"Hahaha... Did you forget your dress here?" I heard his voice from inside the room, specifically from behind me. I turned red and froze. It was as if the embarrassment had transformed into a monster, devouring me whole. I turned to face him, who was picking a shirt from the alamari and smiling at my half-naked body. I couldn't handle it any longer and threw my clothing at him before jumping into bed and hiding beneath the blanket.

"Huh! Sathya? What happened?" he asked cluelessly.

"Leave the room right now, doctor," I said from inside my blanket shield.

"What did I do?" he responded.

"Just leave already," I cried, sticking my head out like a snake from a burrow.

"Ok... Ok... Amma-Thayee" (Oh my mother) He left. I ran and locked the room and then changed myself quickly. When I went out he was waiting for me at the dining table.

"Did you change?" he asked, grinning.

I flushed and swiped my head away. "hump!"

"Ok, I am not going to ask more, come, let's eat," he smiled again

We sat opposite one other and started eating breakfast. He's a fantastic cook. He truly prepared a delicious chutney, and I'm very sure those nicely shaped dosas were not cooked by me. I'm not sure if I should consider myself fortunate or unfortunate. I decided not to get agitated over it and calm myself with some food. He was eating so gracefully, chewing lightly and thoroughly enjoying his meal. Why does he appear so perfect to me, is it because he is a doctor or my husband? Or maybe both? I wondered myself. He didn't bring up the clothes issue again until he was about to leave for work.

"Sathya, you have a mole below your collarbone, it suits you." He said like a child, complimenting me.

I stood there dumbfounded and abruptly shut the door in his face, reddened, "Just... go... to... work," I reacted entirely flushed and stuttering. He said goodbye by calling my name. "Oh my goodness! He's such a crazy man, I married an Insane man," I shouted as his car drove away from our house.