A WAIT FOR THE BELOVED

A WAIT FOR THE BELOVED


Sitting in the verandah of our first floor apartment at Cochin, I could get a birds eye view of all that’s happening around. This had been my pet spot for last two years since Mr. Nair left me and went to Dubai to make his fortune.

The lady luck as he says smiled at him very late in life. Ever since our marriage 22 years back life had been a tight ropewalk as far as counting our pennies were concerned. He had always been chasing rainbows, which eluded him at last moments, flitting from one job to another he had finally opened a electrical shop along with Mr. Raman a young man of vigor 10 years back. Things were working out smoothly after the initial trials and tribulations. We got our only daughter Neela married to Mr. Raman, bought this modest accommodation, when as Mr. Nair put it lady luck smiled at him. He was offered a plum electrical contract job at Dubai.

He handed over formally the shop to Mr. Raman and told me “Kamali two years will just fly off. Let us feather our nest for the rainy day.”

The two long years are at long last coming to a close now. Tomorrow Mr.Nair scheduled to arrive by gulf Air. People in our circle had been telling, “What for Kamala, she has only blessings to count on. The daughter is happily married and husband is returning with a pot of gold.”

Well these 2 long years had been one of the longest and loneliest years, I have come to realize how much we mean to one another. Staying with Mr. Nair had become such a smooth habit. He had always been solicitous to my needs treating me as somebody special that he was fortunate to get. Every little news used to interest him. The house used to boomerang with his guffaws and spirited talks. It was always Kamali this, Kamali that, that there never was a dull moment to go by. To boot to the racket he created in the house, he was also an amateur singer, there was always a song in his lip to suit the occasion. It’s hard to recollect 4 days in stretch when we have stayed away from one another. Even when I delivered Neela he insisted for my mother to come down to help and supervise the delivery.

When Mr.Nair was planning to leave for Dubai, I had hardly given a second thought to my loneliness. With in a couple of days of his departure I felt lost like a child abandoned in the fair. No doubt Neela and Raman had visited me religiously every weekend. As Neela too was working in the Govt. School that was the only time they could make it. This seat at the verandah had been my position for last 2 years sitting here I can see the world go by.

As the sun gradually dips in the horizon the activity peaks all around. The shrill voices of children playing, squabbling in the compound below, Mr. Ramlu going for his evening walk sharp at 4.45 p.m. The office goers scurrying back home, the ladies with their sling bags and worrisome look thinking perhaps of the days chores to be done, shouting of the mothers calling their wards back home as the dusk falls. Chinnappa the chit of a boy collecting money for the milk to be delivered next day. It’s something like the world in a merry of round for a couple of hrs. By seven all is quiet in the street, it’s as though the venue as shifted. Its then the hissing of cookers and blaring of TV’s.

I then slowly get up from my balcony seat marking the passing of yet another day with out Mr.Nair. Today my count down is over. From tomorrow I need no more be a spectator, as Mr.Nair will come. Life will have a meaning to be lived for. I will gladly switch roles from a spectator to an actor.