Until Perfect Lasts (ShivIka)

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Have you had lunch yet?" my mom asks this invariable of what our topic of discussion is going to be. Very soon I learnt that no matter what I should say, 'Yes, mom. I had full lunch.' The care or lie isn't new to me, but what is new is my mom asking this from my husband's phone.

"Yes, mumma." I said carefully not letting my voice reflect that I am rolling my eyes. "Where is Shivay?"

As my mother began to talk, I shifted my attention back to my laptop. It is going to be few minutes before she gets to the point that I am interested in. So, I let her blether.

"I can't believe you haven't come home. Do you know it has been three years?"

'Two and a half', but who is counting?

"If it wasn't for Shivay..."

Yeah, I know. Shivay is the best. Can we move on?

"Such a nice boy! He has taken kids and Preeti to park."

Isn't there a rule about taking your phone wherever you go? What's wrong with Shivay?

***

Shivay is going to hate every bit of the TV commercial we are shooting now. He is going to look at me with that barely there frown and sigh of disappointment. I know he wouldn't dare to voice his opinions. It didn't go well when he thought being a constructive critique can help me grow. However, he will shake his head disapprovingly and say something completely irrelevant, but equally upsets him.

Now, I don't have Shivay beside me, but I can very well imagine what he would think. How does fat shamming a woman saying that she can find someone to love her only when she joins our client's gym and reduce weight work out for a progressive feminist that all my social media bio swears that I am?

I look at the model who is here to play the part of, for lack of better word, the chubby girl. She has been throwing invisible daggers at the model who is playing her slim and beautiful friend. For a minute, I wonder if this is what we are doing with these commercial, pitting women against women. Then I stop wondering. The righteous philosopher isn't meant for office. It is suitable only on lazy weekends when I am alone with my husband after sending kids to their music class. For when we discuss everything under the sun as if what we think (okay, fine what I think) should be the law of the world. Unlike Shivay, I am not naive to think that only one version of us should exist.

I have one version of Annika for every occasion. I don the avatar as one dons a new dress. According to me, it is survival instinct. It is a trait that I picked from childhood. Very long I understood that if I am going to be a friend to my friend instead of caption of basket ball team in court, we are going to lose. So, I don't mind switching roles even if I am questioned for my integrity or loyalty. Shivay fell in love with one version of me. When he began to discover other version, he didn't know what to do with them. Over years, he began to acknowledge those versions, but couldn't bring himself to love all of them.

"I thought you said you don't drink." He said eyeing glass of white wine in my hand when we were at an office part during the initial days of our relationship and career.

"I don't." I said taking a small sip. "Until I have to."

Shivay never understood the significance of small talks or networking or keeping appearance.

"Our anniversary was supposed to be our day, Annika. Why are we partying with a stranger who has asked me twice how I am related to you?"

The fact that the stranger was a man who could sign my promotion didn't seem to convince Shivay.