Chapter 2
Early mornings and late nights were a part of Suman Tiwari's life for more than a decade now. Life equalled to a train ride for her, the path taken remained unchanged. Home to work, work to home. During the ride, there were accidents and delays and at certain stops, surprises and the enormity of it often stole words from her.
If you looked from a distance, you would see a young woman thrived by ambition but if you looked closer, you would only see a woman bearing a burden too vast for her shoulders. Her voice did not lack authority but the fire in her was missing somewhere.
Riding her car across the busy streets of Delhi, her mind ceased wandering to weave dreams anymore. It was filled with logical nonsense, the glamour of dreams was reduced to signatures on inked papers.
She passed the threshold of PCT and replied by a brief nod of her head to her workers' greetings who were already up to work, rinsing utensils and reading the menu that was meant to be served for the day. She sat at her usual spot as she checked her accounts.
Profit or losses both need equal attention for a business to flourish.
Involuntary to herself, her eyes darted from the piece of sheet and caught the sight of the calendar at the side of her desk in which today's date was written in big bold letters. Four months. Only four months and her longing during these couple of months already promised a tough competition to the one she grew within herself for ten long years.
For a man, whose return was uncertain as the weather, for someone who had deliberately distanced himself from her.
Like liquor she had become injurious to him, like poison she had turned toxic for him.
Her mother gave her valuable lessons before departing. One of them was that patience is a virtue, despite waiting being tortuous and twisted.
Her mother feared for her daughter whose second name was impatience.
Today, Suman wondered if from she was, her mother could see how resilient her daughter had become, she had put the epitome of patience itself to shame and even though her miseries were hidden under apparels of success and indifference, her soul was drenched in emptiness.
She wished her mother had told her that sometimes to become someone, to hold interest, to make yourself loved, you had to give something.
To be crowned the epitome of patience, you have to kill the little girl inside you that cannot see beyond the smiles and the fairy lights.
Patience is a vicious virtue but to reap the fruit of labour is even more fulfilling.
A phone call that morning might put an end to the everlasting wait.
"There is a good news for you," Pushkar said excitement dripping from his words, she could imagine him grinning.
"Pushkar, it's impossible for the baby to kick, it has barely been three months," Suman reminded him with gentle reproach. Ever since they had discovered that Preeti was pregnant, Pushkar had become blind in love not that he wasn't already.
"Oh shush your mouth it's not that," He chastised, aggravated by her teasing, she and his mother spoke the same language these days though he didn't mind as long as Preeti found it adorable.
"It's not about Preeti or me, but you." He spoke smugly.
"Me?"
"Yes, you Suman Tiwari," He stated as matter of fact.
"Bhaiya wapis aagaye hai," He announced.
That day, every signal on the Delhi roads had been broken by a white ambassador driving away with a speed unmatched.
