I hear a knock on my door. The door bell is broken. I haven’t fixed it. Why should I? I am not expecting anyone. Not anyone I can think of. Wait. Could it be? Is she coming back? She did leave in a huff. Could have changed her mind. Haste never is good, I used to tell her. She said I was just lazy. I guess she was partly right. But it evens out. If she was right half the time, she was wrong the other half. That’s how it all works out. Nobody is right all the time. Maybe she realizes it now. That kind of thing happens. When given enough time to think, people see their mistakes. And people do make mistakes. It is part of being human, isn’t it? That’s where the whole idea of second chances come in. That’s how we correct our mistakes. If we want to, that is. Do we take them – the second chances? All of us? I don’t think so. But I have a higher level of faith in my girl than I have in humanity as a whole. She will take that second chance. The time to think. So maybe she thought a bit. Or maybe a lot. You can think a little or a lot in any given time. And she saw she shouldn’t have left in her typical ‘Or I’ll huff and I’ll puff till I blow your house in’ kind of way. So she felt remorse and has decided to mend fences. She wants to say she is sorry. That we shouldn’t have split. But then she is headstrong. She is the kind of girl who would want me to apologize even when she is the one at fault. You know that kind, don’t you? It has something to do with their ego. Or absolute lack of it. I remember reading something of that sort in one of those ‘Man, Woman, & Relationships’ book. Pretty pretentious that lot is. How they make suckers of the common man!
One thing is for sure. She ain’t getting off easy this time around. I am sick of these temper tantrums. It gets on your nerves after a point, you know. I mean, in the beginning it is cute and all. She throws a fit, walks out and you stand there thinking, ‘It’s OK. This is what they do. Take a deep breath and just go and get her back home. Buy her something she wants if that works.’ It’s once again the thrill of the chase for you and the rush of being chased for them. Lovers become a couple on their first date once again in that brief time span. Romantic, right? But after thirty odd encores it is no more fun or OK. Especially when you have run out of new entreaties and the money to buy ‘welcome-back-gifts.’ Maybe she sees what I see. That is why she is back. She isn’t stupid or anything. She understands and she knows. Clever little fox she is, I admit. I remember this one time when we were out for a proper dinner in one of those restaurants where even the waiters seem to dress better than you, and we couldn’t get a place to sit. So we stood there at the reception with a dozen other people; all of us pretending as if we were not really praying for the bastards inside to eat real quick so that we can get on with our dinners. Out of the blue my lady’s shapely knees seemed to give in and before I could say ‘What the Hell!’ she was on the plush carpeted floor making a bed out of it. A kind of civilized ‘ooh,’ ‘aah,’ and ‘Oh my God!’ rose from the assembled crowd in tandem and had turned into a restrained murmur as the restaurant manager walked in. Just as he kneels down beside her my lady opened her eyes and wiped her brow in a proper lady-like gesture.
“Are you all right, Madam?” The manager’s voice showed a respectful and appropriate concern. I wondered if that tone would ever cut ice when proposing a girl.
“Oh! I’m sorry. I am so sorry,” says my lady as she gestures the manager to come closer to her. Then she whispers something into his ears. As I watch, the manager’s face seemed to reflect all the things his voice had just a moment ago. He looked at her for one more second before assisting her back on two legs. My lady smiles apologetically at the waiting crowd. The Manager escorts us to the dining room door. Another murmur rises from our dozen odd compatriots-in-misery but does not sound so civilized this time around.
“Oh, ladies and gentlemen, please accept my deepest apologies but this lady here is pregnant and as you saw needs immediate attention. With your kind permission, allow me to take her inside and help her settle into a chair.” Having said that, he ushered us to a table from which he dexterously removed a small sign that read ‘Reserved.’ After he had asked my companion thrice if he could get her a doctor, an offer she firmly declined thrice, and left us promising to return with our dinner in five minutes or less, I turned to my lady and beamed. Clever little fox, this one, I said to myself, smiling broadly at the people around with genuine pride.
The knocking is a bit impatient on the door now. Haste makes waste and often is the root cause of worry, I’d always said to her. But love is not only blind but many a times I have found it to be deaf too. I could have been talking to a wall. She just goes ahead and does what she feels like doing at any given moment. ‘Be spontaneous,’ she’d say. Spontaneous, my foot! Who’s waiting impatiently outside the door knocking to make amends now, Ms. Spontaneous?! Hah! It would be a real pleasure to see her sorry-faced pride now. Wait. That knock somehow seems to lack the grace of a ladylike request for entry into someone’s house. It sounds more angry than apologetic. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it’s the landlord. Those people are animals, I say. Not an inch of humanity in the whole length and breadth of their bodies. Like ghosts they haunt you till they get their green. Or could it be the neighbor who always wants to know if I’m fine? Pesky fellow that one. Can’t stand him. He can literally chase you down a block or two just to check with you if you are fine. I mean, people with such over-enthusiastic concern about others are real pain-in-the-you-know-where. But it’s a bit early for him to be up and about. It could be… Mmm…Who could it be? I am not expecting anyone really… I mean, no one has come around in a while… The doorbell died a long time ago, you know… can’t think who it could be… I’m not expecting anyone… the doorbell, it hasn’t been fixed…
Is there a knock at my front door? I thought I heard something.
