Somehow train journeys do not really tire me. If I had the magic wand to freeze time I would have definitely taken the train more often. But Alas! Money can buy even love and happiness these days. Time remains ever elusive. Therefore the memories of train journeys are cherished.
On one such wonderful journey home I met Trisha. She was travelling to Kolkata with her two daughters, Anwesha and Shanti. Trisha had big doe eyes which made her so adorable that you could pour your heart in front of her without any second thoughts. (Well, I tend to do that with almost everyone because I cannot shut up once I start!).Her daughters mirrored the sunshine happiness that she radiated. Anwesha and Shanti were gleeful. “They are excited.”She explained and continued” After all how many get to attend their mother’s marriage”.
My head screamed “What?!” For a minute I thought I am really suffering from the “Kanpur mein hartal” syndrome that my friends ascribe to me often. But, thankfully she continued.” You see Pinky, I am getting married in seven days. I had so much work to wrap up before coming! Everyday my parents were like ‘Are you going to turn up for your shaadi in some old salwar of yours?’ Well, I didn’t tell them that I wouldn’t really mind that. She animatedly continued. ”Alllll are ready for me. The tailors. The jewellers. The boutique lady. The parlour lady.”
I was in a fix. “Do I ask or not ask?” Then I reconciled with my better sense to not assume anything and I mouthed the words ”Trisha, so Anwesha and Shanti are from your first marriage?”I quickly added “I hope you don’t mind my asking”.
“Not at all.” she exclaimed.
“I came to Mumbai seven years ago. It was a move that I think was the turning point of my life. Till then I was leading a very protected and ordinary life. My life comprised of nothing but relishing the comfort of my home, lapping up my parent’s love and chilling out with friends. I was waiting to get married to my then boyfriend and was not really interested in pursuing a career. Then, out of the blue I got a job. I could not figure out for several days as to how I landed up with a job when I never applied for one!?I thought that maybe my ever devoted mother prayed so hard for my job that God appeared with Her enigmatic smile and uttered the magical words ”Tathastu !” Well, I for one am an engineering graduate. I was sure that other than my mother’s hands joined in prayer there must be some other hands involved. Aha! Then I remembered. It was none other than my own digits. I did appear for an interview in college after writing some tests. The delirium of my semester exam fever was such that I completely forgot about that brief encounter with the grim looking interview panel where I blabbered something about doing something and taking “Duniya Apni Muthhi Mein”! I did not understand why they got back to me with an offer after so many months. Anyways, it was good money. My parents were happy that I’ll at last do something fruitful in life. And I landed in Mumbai.
The initial days were very difficult. People around me were always walking or running. Their footsteps sounded so busy that I was scared to ask for any help. Once the initial apprehension was overcome with the help of the ever helpful HR at work, I started settling down. I made new friends. I enjoyed my new job. I started a journey of self discovery. I realized my mother’s sacrifice of her ‘me’ time and rest when I started doing all the chores, including cooking, myself. Back home, even if I had known cooking, my hands would have rejected the plea of my heart’s cravings. But Mom, never! I missed my family very badly.
My parents could not come to visit me because my Mom was Mom to my Dad and brother as well. So, the first bold decision of life was taken. I asked my boyfriend to visit. Amaan and me went back to our schooldays. We were ‘boyfriend-girlfriend’ since the time he had offered me his umbrella on a rainy day back home from school. After he came to Mumbai, our no-holds-bar Bollywood style romance rolled out. I took leaves for few days. We went for Mumbai Darshan. We walked together hand in hand on the beaches. We tasted the famous “vada-pav” and “pani-puri” which was just “Alur Chop in Bun” and poor cousin of our “Phuchka” respectively! (The path of demystification kind of started). Kissed on Marine drive. Got soaked in the Mumbai rains. Sang together till our voices became hoarse. Made love till we lay spent. Amaan’s stay got extended by few more days as the Mumbai rains had created havoc and train services were disrupted. My workaholic days and our passionate nights continued for a few more days. Life was simply perfect. I was so happy.
Couple of weeks later my office colleagues were getting ready for office fun party in a water park. I opted out. Well, it was that time of the month and I was expecting the pain and following days of discomfort ( inspite of the comfort stories whispered) to start anytime soon. To my dismay I missed all the fun for nothing. Nothing happened. Life! Another week passed. The fruit vendor found a regular customer for ripe papaya in me. It was a “totka” that I picked up from my cousins. But still nothing happened. My universe shrank to a prayer for a red dot. I started getting worried.
I went to a medical store far away from my locality . The tremor within me was so much that I stumbled on the road. I could not control my tears. What was I doing?! What was I worrying about?!How did I come to this juncture in life?! I had no qualms about sex before marriage. After all it was the act of love between two consenting adults. However getting pregnant was never in the picture. The thought of my father’s Amrish Puri eyes and my Mom’s Lalita Pawar type scolding was disturbing my sleep. I bought the pregnancy kit that we always made fun of during our college days. I waited with bated breath for the sun to rise. I tore the packet and went inside. My tears broke the dam. The dreaded line appeared.
My world was in a whirlwind. I could not tell Amaan. I should not tell Amaan. I had insisted that it was safe. He overstayed the safe period by a day. I was blissfully happy in my bubble to realise that. However, Amaan understood. My period was delayed for more than three weeks. He told that there is no other option but to abort. None of us were settled to take up that responsibility. I understood. It was sensible and practical. I had to go to a doctor to confirm and carry out the process. Suddenly I felt weak and lonely. My lacrimal glands seemed to be working overtime. I went to a clinic. The attendant looked at me in a way that I felt he was judging my character. I could not control my tears. I ran out from there. I prayed to God for forgiveness. I prayed to God that nothing should happen to shame my family. They will never understand.
I went to another hospital. It was a reputed one. I did not want to die an ignoble death at the hand of some quack. I gave the sample. She asked me to come the next day with my husband. I cooked up a story about my husband being out on a trip for 6 months. Even if the doctor had seen through my lie, she did not make it evident. I gave my name as Trisha Singh.
The next day I had to face the harsh lesson of being reckless. The doctor confirmed my pregnancy. I took the first step towards hell by giving Chitragupta the opportunity to log the murder against my name. I had to arrive early morning the next day for the procedure. I opted for the surgical one as it was more reliable. We decided that it would be prudent for Amaan not to come. I switched off my mobile as I did not want my parents to know that I have been crying. Why life could not be like a movie?! Why could I not be as brave as Preity Zinta?! I cried myself to sleep.
Next morning I promptly reported to the hospital. The attendant asked about why nobody has accompanied me. She was concerned as I will be weak after the procedure. I repeated like a zombie that my husband is out of town and that I don’t know anybody else. She listened with the “all knowing” expression clearly showing on her face and went inside to inform the doctor. I just wanted to end the agony. The doctor called me inside. Then what followed made me reinstate my faith in God. The doctor apologized for a goof up by the testing lab. Apparently, there was another patient of the same age as me. Her name was Trisha Kale-Singh and she gave her name as Trisha Singh. The hospital tried contacting me. However, my phone was switched off. So they waited for me to report to the hospital. My report was negative. It was coincidence that the pregnancy strip turned out to be faulty. It was God’s design to make me go through the turmoil before giving me a second chance at being responsible for my actions. I thanked God. Second chance exists only in movies. I was lucky to get one in real life.”
I listened with tears welling up in my eyes. It was like I could feel Trisha’s emotional upheaval. Then I enquired about her two daughters. She told that, after the incident she was very distraught. She visited Siddhivinayak temple for forgiveness. She went to Ajmer Shariff to seek peace. On the way back from Ajmer Shariff she saw a child lying beside a beggar lady on the platform. That sight of love in poverty(scam was possible but the thought did not come up)prompted her to make her decision.
“After reaching Mumbai I took the first flight out. I reached home. I poured my heart out to my parents. They listened to me patiently. My parents turned out to be Farida Jalal and Anupam Kher!”She laughed.”We went to the adoption centre. I completed the formalities without much problem. Then I came back to Mumbai with my two daughters who brought my search for peace to an end. Inspite of my protests, my mother tagged along to take care of her daughter and two granddaughters, Anwesha and Shanti. Well what I said about Moms? I was proud of my mom and knew in my heart that I would be a good one too.”
I was elated and filled with admiration for this doe-eyed beauty. All of us make mistakes. However, how many of us live to turn it into something beautiful?
I congratulated her on her marriage to Amaan. “No. Not to Amaan”. She corrected me.”Amaan’s family could not gather the courage to accept my decision to adopt. Amaan could not go against them. I forgave him. I moved on. After facing the ordeal alone, I was ready for anything. My heart was in place and throbbing strongly with love for my children and also had a beat or two for my partner who I knew will come one day.”
“My Anwesha and Shanti are God’s blessings for me. I was applauded at my workplace for my ‘brave’ decision. I met Qaizar. He was my children’s paediatrician. He was so enamored by me. I did not let him go. Now we are getting married. ”She laughed again.”Oh you must come!”
I could not go. However, we have kept in touch. We meet up regularly. She said she did not mind me sharing her story. Her story taught me to take life as full of opportunities to live fuller and not live like a fool because of one mistake. Mistakes happen but if repentance is true then with God as the director, a happy ending is just round the corner.
