just another day

It was a bright sunny day. She wiped the sweat off her face. Just another Sunday… she switched on the TV to see the morning news. The same old stories… She thought to herself, to hear about rapes, murders and even scams right in the morning… made her sick. She moved on to a soap-channel… the same old series which she once liked, but today something made her feel cranky. She switched off, completely disgusted with it, and went to check on the kids… they were fast asleep. She didn’t want to wake them up early as it was the only holiday they had.
Life was very monotonous. The same old routine had followed through the past 20 years of her married life. She had done everything, tried to talk… She even consulted a doctor. She read books and magazines to find ways to spice up the dull marriage. They did not talk at all anymore except for about the kids. She had thought of leaving him but then she stayed for the kids, scared that it might have a bad impact on them when they were young, but now she thought of it as a hustle. He was now more like a roommate than a husband. She started doubting even her love for him, maybe it was not there. Maybe now she is just used to him. She had started to fantasize about other men, and wished her life was like her friend’s. All of them seemed to be happy.
He used to spend a lot of time abroad or on tours, she almost felt as if she lived alone with her kids. Surprisingly she doesn’t even miss him and his presence in the house sometimes irritates her. She had started enjoying the independence too much. He was on an official trip overseas even now and was expected to come anytime this week. He told her the date but she had not bothered to remember.
Something felt odd, as she checked the gas knob thrice since morning. Still feeling uneasy she went in her room and lied down, tried to go back to sleep again, pushing her thoughts away, but sleep wouldn’t come. She took out her drawing board, stuck a paper, threw some colours on the board from the palette and started making random things. She smiled to herself as a thought came to her mind, “Ajeet doesn’t even know that I started painting again.” Earlier she would be upset, even thought that he might be dating someone else. Now she just didn’t care. She just got upset when the kids asked her about their father missing all the college functions. She was mad at him because of the kids, she wanted him to atleast take care of them but he kept running from that also. To her he wasn’t a good husband; neither was he a good father.
She was irritated now.She thought over the years she had become tougher and wiser, but she knew at the bottom of the well of her heart was just a pool of frustration, anger and depression. The only people who made her feel wanted were her kids. She tried talking to her mother, it didn’t help. “You are over reacting” she said. Even her office friends seemed to misunderstand her. Soon she gave up; she had even stopped discussing her life with anyone. There was no use anyway.
She went back to the kitchen and started preparing breakfast.She wanted to make her kids feel satisfied… make them feel special. She made their favourite sandwich and knew they would be happy to eat them. The phone rang; she picked up still dreaming about the expressions of her kids. Before she could say anything, the caller said, in a shivering tone. “Your husband has had an accident, he is serious…” but she could not hear more as the phone slipped down from her hand. A tear trickled down on her cheek; she did love him after all. The doorbell rang. It was Ajeet. The phone call was not for her. He was alive, and suddenly she was so happy to see his face. She hugged him tight as he entered, she did not have the heart to tell him about the call. She slowly said “I love you”… he heard and said “ok”.
She was back in the well of her heart… irritated again by his reply.He could have said “me too” Grr… Angry and hollow, she went to the kitchen to make tea for him,thinking she will leave him as soon as the kids settle down.