A story of a wife retuned from abroad. A Pandora of secrets hanging around her neck like a noose.
A story of a husband standing at crossroads, not knowing what brought him there in the first place. Him or his ambitions?
A story of a nasty divorce c...
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"I kissed thee era I killed thee: no way but this;
Killing myself, to die upon a kiss."
Othello's last words from the Shakespeare's play Othello.
❄️
The next morning didn't materialize for Prem as he'd wished for. Gone was the wife he'd to pacify after yesterday's confrontation. Gone was the mother of his unborn baby. Gone was the woman he loved to bits and pieces. Gone was also his chance at a happily ever after. What she left behind for safe keeping was a letter, the divorce papers and paternity test results.
Prem was beyond enraged. Yesterday he was hurting for her. Her pain filled eyes had him tossing and turning the whole night before sleep had embraced him. However today he was acknowledging his pain. The pain gnawing at his insides was no less compared to hers. He couldn't believe what she'd written on the parchment.
The letter was stained with her tears, even a fool could tell the tears were hers and he was no fool. He hated himself as the tear stains poked needles in his eyes instead of her mutinous words. Despite being wronged he was desperate to know if she was safe and sound. The dried tears twisted his heart and churned his gut with immense hatred not for her but for himself.
From the start her tears had been his weakness. They were so even today. And he could promise their effect on him wouldn't ebb after few decades either.
The letter she'd left behind was of zilch importance to him because he could wager his life that it was all a lie, a bloody lie uttered for god knows what reason. He felt it in his bones. The baby was his, obviously his. And the paternity test, a farce.
He'd zero idea of what a fabulous writer his wife was. He could certainly give her that. So meticulously she'd played with him that he couldn't believe if it was his life or if he was a bystander, watching someone else's.
His wife had setup a play. A play similar to Othello in its essence but quite different at the same time. In Prem's life, Naisha was both Iago and Desdemona. In the play Iago had manipulated Othello to kill Desdemona before the protagonist killed himself, thanks to his over burdening guilt. While here Naisha was both Iago and Desdemona. By donning the twin characters she'd weaved a tragedy and Prem couldn't point a finger as to when the very tragedy toppled his life upside down.
As Iago, Naisha was successful in manipulating her husband in believing he was the villain. She'd easily pushed him on the path of lifelong guilt by counting how his aspirations had ruined her peaceful life. In the play Desdemona was killed due to futile jealousy and here he was influenced to believe the Desdemona of his heart, his Naisha was killed due to his ambitions.
In both the scenarios, subjectively, Othello was wronged. In the play his insecurities were played with and in Prem's life, his dreams. Naisha had skillfully made his ambition the root cause of her agony and he would be lying if he said it didn't hurt.
If he recollected correct, she'd materialized the dead soul of Desdemona very well yesterday. To prove the legitimacy of her great affliction, she'd dressed herself in the same cape of pain she had underlined in her words.
But for Prem all Naisha had uttered was nothing sufficient to kill him. It was definitely not the nicest of realizations but neither was it the epilogue of his life. Infact it was far from climax. He would name it just an intermission on his part. He wanted that recess only to come back stronger and sharper.
In the lapse of a night all he'd wished was for a new morning with a brighter hope rising at the horizon. All he wanted was to start afresh but she'd squandered his chance for a new start long before he could even open his eyes. He'd not for once doubted her love for him although now he was beginning to doubt her trust on him.
For, if she did trust him, she wouldn't have left just like that, without a trace.
So he made up his mind. Not for the good but for the worse. He no longer longed for a happily ever after. Neither was he going behind her to bring her back. Hadn't he promised yesterday to try amending everything to the best of his abilities? Hadn't he made it clear to her that he was never leaving her? Then why? Why despite every promise did she go as far as leaving the house in the middle of the night while he was asleep?
The answers to his whys was nothing rocket science but a simplest of understanding. She left because she never wanted to stay. She left since she didn't love him enough. She left for she couldn't trust him to tell him what had unhinged her to the point where divorce appeared as her only free pass.
And Prem owed to not chase her. No he wouldn't. If she wanted she would return else if she wished to get rid of him, then so be it. His answer to her midnight rendezvous of eloping from their house was his signature on the divorce papers right under his name. He rashly opened his phone, typed a cryptic message and deleted her contact after the text was sent.
"I don't need you in my life if you don't need me either."
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