Between Anuradha’s birth and Himanshu’s, Hemant changed from being an all-American father to being an all-Indian one. After he came home the last thing he wished to bother about was taking care of a child. ‘It’s your job‚’ he said. ‘That’s not what you thought when we had Anu‚’ replied his wife. ‘I can’t do everything myself. It’s tiring.’ It was also boring, though this was not acknowledged. ‘It’s woman’s work‚’ said Hemant firmly. ‘Hire somebody to help you, or quit your job.’‘This is our son, the one you wanted so much. It’s nice if we look after him together.’‘Send him up to Mummy if you can’t manage.’ Astha was struck dumb. Were Mummy and he interchangeable? ‘And‚’ continued Hemant, ‘my son is going to be very lucky for us.’‘Oh Hemant, how?’ asked Astha with an effort that wasn’t noticed. ‘Wait and see.’
‘How can you say that? Just the other day I spent the whole evening with you, I went home at twelve, I told endless lies—’‘Who asked you to tell lies? I didn’t. Don’t you see, Ant, I want an end to all this deception.’‘My whole life is a fabric of lies‚’said Astha sadly, ‘you are the one true thing I have.’‘And you don’t want to change it. That’s the trouble with married people‚’said Pipee gloomily, ‘there are always others involved. Why did I think with a woman it would be different?’
‘Going home, since you ask.’Pipee reached out and pulled her dupatta. ‘Don’t you get it? That I love you, I want you, I miss you?’‘What about your other friends and your work?’asked Astha in a small voice. ‘What about it? Work never kept one warm at night, and yes, I have friends, but they are not people I choose to be intimate with. Either I spend my time here moping, or I go out with them, talk, laugh, then come home to a flat which holds the moments I have had with you. It reminds me—’Here she paused, Astha looked tortured, and Pipee continued quickly, ‘whatever it is, I don’t wish to experience that kind of emptiness again. Sometimes I go crazy with longing, and I can’t even pick up the phone.’‘You can.’‘I can’t. I don’t want to hear your husband’s voice, I don’t want to put the phone down if he picks it up, I don’t want to share your life of lies.’Astha thought that if husband and wife are one person, then Pipee and she were even more so. She had shared parts of herself she had never shared before. She felt complete with her. But this was not the time to say these things. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be harsh‚’said Pipee contritely. ‘Leaving a marriage, even like yours, could not be easy. I do feel that away from that house and those people you will be able to lead a fuller life. You have so much in you, so much to give, but take your time. Whatever you do it’ll be all right.’
At last, Kanyakumari. The train to Madras took for ever, and from there a bus. Felt complete and peaceful the whole way; I think she felt the same. No wonder marriages start with going away, cutting off from the old, entering the new with a journey, just the two of you – even in an ocean of people – just the two of you. It seemed so wonderful, we kept looking at each other and smiling.
She goes to sleep, and I pass my hand over her breasts. At first it had seemed odd, after years of being made love to by a man, to have one’s breasts met by a similar pair, though larger. No wonder men like them so much. You can do much with a pair of breasts. These loose, hanging, swinging items, breasts, penis – objects of passion and anxiety. Stuff you can hold in your hands, squeeze, maul, make yours, like playing with clay – taking you back to your childhood.
She goes to sleep, and I pass my hand over her breasts. At first it had seemed odd, after years of being made love to by a man, to have one’s breasts met by a similar pair, though larger. No wonder men like them so much. You can do much with a pair of breasts. These loose, hanging, swinging items, breasts, penis – objects of passion and anxiety. Stuff you can hold in your hands, squeeze, maul, make yours, like playing with clay – taking you back to your childhood.
‘How long will you be away?’‘I don’t know yet.’‘I suppose you have to go?’asked Pipee a little hesitantly. Astha remained silent. If only she didn’t have to put her husband’s health over the companionship of her lover. But not going was like getting divorced, a public statement of difference and separation. ‘Look, it’s not working out‚’said Pipee suddenly. ‘What is not working out?’asked Astha desperately. ‘One should never have affairs with married people, they are the worst.’Astha looked at the face she had kissed lovingly and in such detail at least a thousand times, and said resentfully, ‘Why did you, then? You want to spoil what we have.’‘I had thought that with a woman it would be different—’‘So did I. With a woman—’