Prerna | Vineet Deshpande

Chapter 1

On one hob, milk boiled; on another, onions sautéed. Her lifesaver, the pressure cooker, was cooking rice and dal. Prerna focused on the sautéing but kept one eye on the milk. Meanwhile, her mind raced through all the items on her to-do list. She still had to prepare lunch. The late afternoon rain forecast meant that she had to wash the clothes early morning and hang them out to dry. She would prepare lunch immediately after breakfast. The vegetables, dal and salad could be prepared earlier but chapatis had to be fresh, at least for Rajas. She herself was not at all picky about her food. For her, the best meal was the one she did not have to cook.

It was a hot summer day in Pune. Sweat trickled down her face in the sweltering kitchen. The fan was not working. She had already reminded Rajas three times about calling the electrician. Prerna switched off all the hobs. The rice and dal were cooked. Today’s breakfast, pohe, were almost ready. She was quite pleased with how it turned out. Coriander and lemon juice would have to be added once Rajas arrived. Now came her favourite part of the day—a cup of coffee while reading the newspaper’s sports section. She loved this time and looked forward to it. The relaxing fifteen minutes where it was just her, a cup of strong, freshly brewed filter coffee and sports news. Later in the day she would go through other news as well but her first love was sports. Unlike other news, it did not leave her feeling depressed or gloomy. She particularly loved reading about underdogs winning against the odds. Absorbed in reading about Leicester City’s unbelievable Premier League triumph, when the bell rang. “Oh, come on!”, she exclaimed leaving her oasis and went to answer the door. It was Rajas and an unknown man.

Chapter II

“This is Naresh. We play badminton together sometimes. I have invited him for breakfast,” said Rajas as he and Naresh entered the house and settled on the sofas in the living room.

Despite the unexpected interruption in her cherished ‘me time’, Prerna put on a warm smile and greeted her guest, “Hi Naresh! Very nice to meet you. Would you like some coffee? It’s fresh.”

“It’s too hot to drink coffee and we’re tired from playing.” interjected Rajas, not giving Naresh a chance to answer, “We both will have limb Tarbat.”

Prerna went to the kitchen. She served cold water, prepared the limbu sarbat and garnished the pohe. As she was serving water, she heard Rajas and Naresh discussing Indian politics.

“We’re also really hungry,” Rajas shouted as she was walking back into the kitchen.

Prerna looked longingly at the pohe. There wasn’t enough for three people. She decided to have some biscuits with her coffee and leave the better meal for Rajas and Naresh.

She warmed the pohe, garnished them with coriander and lemon juice, prepared the limbu sarbat and carried everything to the living room in an ornate tray.

“The pohe are delicious, Vahini,” said Naresh with a beaming smile.

“They would be even better with some khobra. Why didn’t you put that too?” Rajas asked looking up.

“We don’t have any right now. Sorry,” said Prerna biting her tongue and not reminding Rajas in front of her guest that she had asked him to get a coconut from the store two days ago.

“What can we serve Naresh for lunch today? He will stay for a few hours more. Won’t you Naresh? We can watch the movie about the great Indian mathematician Srinivas Ramanujan. What’s it called, something zero…”

“The Man Who Knew Infinity,” replied Prerna promptly. She wanted to watch the movie for a long time.

Rajas and Naresh proceeded to watch the movie after breakfast. Prerna only managed to catch a few glimpses as she worked diligently in the kitchen preparing lunch. She had to cook more than planned and prepare dessert for the guest too. By the time she finished clearing the dishes and cleaning the kitchen, Naresh had left, and Rajas was fast asleep in front of the TV. Exhausted herself, she decided to get some well-deserved rest, but not for too long, as afternoon tea would be upon her soon.

While sipping masala chai prepared by Prerna, Rajas reminded her that their daughter, Pratha, would be visiting for lunch tomorrow.

“I asked Pratha if she had any special requests. She said she would love some gajar halwa,” said Rajas.

“I’ll see what I can do. I have already planned an elaborate menu. I’ll be doing a lot of preparation to do tonight .”

“I’ll leave you to it then. I’m anyway not home for dinner tonight and I’ll be late. Tonight, is poker night with my college gang. I’ll leave soon.”

Prerna spent the rest of the evening preparing a lavish lunch for the next day. She was both excited to see her daughter but was exhausted. After dinner, she tried watching the movie that she had missed in the morning, but felt sleepy in five minutes. The movie would have to wait for another day.

Chapter III

“This is such a lovely spread, Aai. Everything is delicious,” said Pratha helping herself to more chicken biryani.

Prerna beamed. She was glad that today was a Sunday. Had it been a Saturday, Rajas wouldn’t allow anyone to cook or eat meat

“Keep some room in your stomach for gajar halwa later,” said Prerna.

“I told your mother to make it,” said Rajas

“Thank you, baba! You always look out for me.”

“Who was that friend of yours who used to come to our house always hoping that your mother had made gajar halwa?”

“Oh yes. Komal. She absolutely loved it. She talks about it till this day. Maybe I’ll pack some for her. She needs a bit of cheering up.”

“Sure! But why does she need cheering up? Anything serious?” Prerna asked with a concerned look on her face.

“Definitely serious although she shouldn’t complain. It was entirely her decision to separate from Mayur.”

“What?! She separated from Mayur. Isn’t he the CEO of a start-up which works in traditional medicine?” asked Rajas

“Yes, it’s called Samuha. They are an aggregator for doctors who work exclusively in traditional Indian medicine like Ayurveda, Homeopathy etc.,” replied Prerna incorrectly listing Homeopathy as ‘Indian’.

“I saw his photo in the paper recently. The Indian Government also gave him some award for the great service he is performing for the country. I can’t believe your friend wants to separate from him,” said Rajas

“She must have gone through so much, the poor girl. I’m sure it’s a very hard time for her,” said Prerna empathically.

“That’s what marriage is about. Sticking with your husband through thick and thin. Supporting him and providing a stable home. The man is working so hard not just for his family but also for the country. Shameful!” thundered Rajas

Prerna was completely taken aback by this attack. She looked to Pratha for some solidarity, but Pratha was just nodding along.

“I feel even worse for their son Yuvraj. He’s just two. At least Komal could have thought about him before taking the decision. A husband and wife separating in dire circumstances is one thing, but how can parents separate?” said Prerna siding completely with Rajas.

“Absolutely! Today’s generation does not have it in them. Look at us or our parent’s generation. These were marriages built to last. Kids today just want to emulate Western culture. Be it in clothes or marriage. Soon we will achieve the American dream of 50% marriages ending in divorce,” thundered Rajas.

“But I’m sure Komal must have had her reasons.”

“What reasons? We’ve met Mayur before. I’m sure he is not a wife beater by any stretch of imagination. He is rich, successful, brahmin, comes from a very respectable family with traditional values. What more do these girls want?” said Rajas not allowing Prerna to complete.

“Komal did say that the last two years were very tough, and she had to raise Yuvraj practically by herself. She wasn’t getting a lot of sleep and there were constant fights. Mayur was always working or going out with friends,” said Prerna

“Running a start-up means lots of long hours. Of course, he will need to blow off steam every now and then. That’s a given. She was anyway at home, right? She can take care of their son.”

“Maybe the poor girl wanted to start work again. She was doing so well in her job. Wasn’t she managing her own team before going on maternity leave?” asked Prerna

“That’s what I mean by sacrifice and sticking with your husband through thick and thin. Anyway, what do we care. We have raised Pratha well, so we don’t need to worry about this ever. Isn’t that right my dear?”

“Of course, Baba”

Chapter IV

The next day Prerna was in a contemplative mood. Rajas was away at his friend’s farmhouse for the weekend giving her some much-needed relaxation time and a chance to catch up with her friends. But today she didn’t feel like talking with anyone. Yesterday’s conversation lingered on her mind. Pratha had left immediately after dinner and Rajas fell asleep on the sofa watching a movie. Lost in thought, Prerna took longer than usual in clearing the kitchen. Though exhausted after a long day’s work, it took a while to fall asleep. She had hoped the morning would be better, but the mood had continued. Even her beloved sports news couldn’t help her. The newspaper lay in front of her, and her coffee was now stone cold.

With a start, Prerna decided to snap herself out of her melancholy. She re-heated her coffee in the microwave and took it with her to the bedroom. Gathering the old photo albums from the cupboard, she laid them on the bed. Long ago, she decided to digitize these memories. Sorting the albums chronologically she began selecting the best photos to digitize. This seemed to be a good way to get herself out of the gloom. However, it did not work too well. While some of the photos brought smiles, there were many that evoked a mix of emotions. It felt like savouring something sweet with a rather bitter aftertaste.

She reminisced her happy childhood. But seeing photos of herself proudly displaying trophies earned playing sports were a cruel reminder of how she had to give up sports after marriage. Photos of her once close-knit college group triggered a pang of sadness: they were no longer in touch as everyone had drifted apart after marriage. Photos of her old office colleagues who were all still working together except for Prerna who had to give up her job after Rajas retired.

Her coffee had grown cold again. She decided to change tracks, re-heat the coffee and shift to photos of her parents before she was born. That way, there wouldn’t be any bitter memories to encounter. Prerna shoved her coffee mug into the microwave, and set the timer for one minute. She watched the coffee mug revolving as if in a trance. Looking back, it felt that her life had been an endless loop of cooking, cleaning, washing, taking care of Rajas, his parents, Pratha, and catering to their every need. The only bright spot she could claim as one of her own was her office work and colleagues. Thankfully, she had been allowed to work after Rajas’ parents passed away. However, even that involved juggling work with endless home responsibilities.

The microwave’s angry beep jolted her back to reality. Her coffee had been in there for five minutes getting cold again. But it was still drinkable. She finished her coffee and resolved to push away the resentful thoughts. As planned, she would focus on digitizing her parents’ photos—a treasure of happy memories. Prerna washed her coffee mug and went back to the bedroom ready to tackle the task.

Chapter V

Sorting and digitizing her parents’ photos was indeed better for Prerna, but she was still troubled. The old photos and memories brought a smile to her face but a knot remained in her stomach. Prerna missed her parents a lot, especially her mother. They had passed away in a tragic road accident while going on a pilgrimage. At times it still seemed unreal that they were gone.

Prerna had found many photo albums when she was clearing their apartment. She had avoided looking at them earlier as she was afraid of what they might trigger. As she browsed through one such album that she had never seen before, she found an envelope with “Rukhma” written on it. Her mother always wanted to name her Rukhma but her father overruled it for the name Prerna, chosen by his sister. She opened the envelope and found a very old letter in her mother’s handwriting.

Dear Rukhma,

I wanted to say this to you ever since your marriage was confirmed. However, some things are easier on pen and paper.

You will soon go to live with your husband and in-laws. I hope that your new family will love and support you. However, being an Indian woman, there is a good chance that this will not happen. You will have a lot of work, unrealistic expectations and very little appreciation for all that you will do for your new home and its inhabitants. I sincerely hope that I am wrong, but I have gone through this myself and seen countless other women suffering for decades.

You too will see many others like you suffering in silence, but you don’t need to be like them. You have always been different. When your friends were going for music and dance lessons, you took up different sports. You were the only girl in your astronomy class but that didn’t deter you one bit. I am happy that I was able to give you a happy childhood. But in your adult life, your happiness is ultimately in your own hands.

Sadly, this world does not care for a woman’s happiness. Her happiness is to be derived from the success of her husband or her children. Cooking, cleaning, managing the house, and caring for others is deemed to be the success of a woman. Please do not let it be this way for you. Your happiness is equally if not more important than that of your husband, children, and in-laws. It will be tough but do not neglect yourself for the sake of others.

I may not be around for you forever but do remember that I love you and will support you always.

Love,

Aai

Prerna dropped the letter, collapsed on the bed, and cried.

Chapter VI

Three months later Prerna was again busy in the kitchen, lost in thought while preparing an elaborate meal for Pratha who she’d invited for dinner. Despite correcting many mistakes along the way, she ensured a delicious spread was ready in the end. Prerna laid the table and went in her room to gather her thoughts before dinner.

Dinner progressed as usual. Pratha complimented her mother profusely on the delicious food. She and Rajas were eating heartily and engrossed deep in conversation. Prerna remained silent and had barely touched her food. Rajas and Pratha moved to dessert when Pratha asked her mother, “Aai, are you feeling OK? You’ve hardly spoken a word and your plate is still full.”

Prerna took a deep breath, looked calmly and directly at Rajas, and said, “I have decided to separate. I cannot live like this any more and will be moving out. We can decide about the next steps later.”

A stunned silence filled the table. Pratha was flabbergasted. Rajas hadn’t moved a muscle. But now helping himself to more dessert said, “Stop speaking nonsense. You’re just tired. Go to bed.”

” I am indeed tired,” Prerna countered,” and have been for a long time. But I don’t want to be like this forever. I have made my decision”

“You cannot make decisions like this just on your own–” Rajas interjected.

“No! I will not allow you to interrupt me. Not today. I’ve had enough of this for decades now. I have made my decision. I want to live the rest of my life doing what I love and not spend half of my waking hours in the kitchen for an ungrateful person like you.”

“Aai, don’t be like this.” Pratha pleaded, finding her voice, “I’m sure Baba can change. He can stop interrupting you and help a bit in the kitchen. Won’t you Baba?”

“Pratha, I’m sorry that you are caught in the middle like this.” Prerna said gently, “It’s not about “helping” although I’m sure that will not happen for long anyway.”

“This is just ridiculous. How can you decide this out of the blue? One minute we’re having a nice meal with our daughter and the next you’re saying these things. Have you gone mad?”

“The fact that you think this is out of the blue is the main problem.” Prerna countered, “I’ve been in turmoil for the past three months, thinking about separating. We’ve been in the same house, but you haven’t noticed anything. And this is just about the separation bit. For the past two decades, we have been barely friends, forget about being life partners or lovers. I used to argue with you about your entitled behaviour and zero involvement in managing our home, but it was futile. You would just get angry and leave. I decided to stop arguing completely when Pratha was a year old to ensure her childhood wasn’t affected. You took my silence as compliance. Over the years, we settled into a rhythm which was comfortable for you but extremely unfair to me. I have spent the best years of my life taking care of you, your parents, our daughter, and this house. I may not have many years left ahead of me, but they will be mine.”

Enraged, Rajas shoved his plate, spilling food and water all over the table, took his car keys and left the house slamming the main door behind him. Prerna had anticipated this reaction. She calmly got up and began cleaning the table. She felt a sense of pride in finally voicing her needs without losing her temper or composure.

Pratha, still numb from the ordeal, asked in a choked voice. “Aai, do you think Baba is having an affair?”

Prerna shook her head.

“Did he ever hit you?”

Prerna said, “No, never.”

“Then why are you taking such a drastic step” Pratha asked, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Pratha, I hope you never set such a low bar in your marriage. You heard what I said right now. That is good enough reason for me to separate. In fact, I should have done this a long time ago.”

“But what should I tell my daughter? What do I say when she asks me why Aaji and Ajoba don’t stay together any more?”

“Tell her, Aaji chose her own happiness, and she should always remember to do that.”

Epilogue

Milk bubbled on one burner, while chicken curry (a Saturday tradition) simmered on another. The third burner held a Moka pot brewing strong filter coffee. Prerna had kept her habit of finishing most chores in the morning, so she got the whole day to do what she loved. The curry was ready and smelled lovely, although not as enticing as the coffee. Prerna turned off all the hobs, made herself a strong cup of coffee and took it to her favourite armchair along with today’s newspaper. She kept the coffee cup on a self-painted coaster with the word hygge on it and enjoyed a blissful morning. No one disturbed her.

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Note: Published with the author’s permission this story was previously published on kitab.org

“Vineet Deshpande is an aspiring writer and software professional currently living in Vienna, Austria. He has done his Bachelors in Computer Engineering from the University of Pune in India. After 32 years of living in the most livable city in India, he moved to the most livable city in the world to support his wife’s PhD in Austria.” Check out his twitter handle @vineetd13