Satya – Part One: She Hates Me

I can’t trust her. I want to, but I can’t. How much time have you spent with her? Occasional “Hi” and “Hello,” and a few sips of tea together. Is that enough to know her? I have spent eight years with her. She was my girlfriend before I married her four years ago. I know her better than you do. I have seen her beyond her smiles and sweet gestures. I know she hates me so much that she wants to kill me.

I have a vivid picture of the day she began hating me. That day, job hunting had exhausted me. The interview had gone awkwardly, and I had left before I could make a positive impression. I had slouched myself on the couch and tuned in to a cricket match on TV, but it was so dull that I was falling back to bad memories of the day. She came in, sat beside me, and said, “I saw a handbag while returning home. I wanted it so much, but I didn’t have enough money.”

“I wish I could give you some. But I don’t have much. There are other things to do, too. And my search for a job does not seem to end.”

I sighed. Kalpana said, “Don’t worry, Satya. Everything will be alright.”

“I wish I could get the bag for you.”

“You said that,” she smiled. “It’s more than enough for me. I don’t want it.”

“I wish I could give it to you. A man is supposed to provide, isn’t he? What am I if I can’t even do that?” I covered my face in shame. “I wish I could give you everything you want, but I can’t. I’m sorry I’ve ruined your life, Kalpana. I’m so sorry.”

“No, Satya. You haven’t ruined my life. You have blessed me with your love. I don’t want anything else.” She held my hand and kissed it. “You might not be rich, but you have a good heart. That’s why I love you.”

“I doubt I am a nice man, Kalpana. And… being rich would help, wouldn’t it? Even a job with a small salary would be a blessing. I should not have quit that job. I would not have become a burden upon you and my parents.”

“You’re giving your best, Satya. You left that job because they did not respect you. You’ll find another place where your potential will be better recognised. I’m also earning something by teaching. Baba and Mamu are supporting us. We’re not on the street; we are not dying of hunger. Once you get a job, things will get better.”

“Still, I’m worried. I don’t want to live off your income. And it does not feel right that you’re working while I’m spending your money.”

“Don’t think of it as right or wrong. We’re partners for life, Satya.” She turned my head towards her. “We must support each other. I’m supporting you while you’re at your lowest. You’ll support me when I fall.”

“I’m scared I can’t support you.”

“I know you’re troubled because I’m earning. But if you were earning and I was living off your income, would I be worried? I’d not.”

“Why should you bring that up? It’s a different matter.”

“How is it different? It’s the same. Only the roles have changed.”

“No, it isn’t the same.”

She smiled, albeit with questioning eyes. “You’re not serious, are you?”

“Yes, I am.”

Her smile transformed into a frown. “I can’t believe you’re saying this, Satya.”

“Well, I’ve said it. You’ve heard it.”

“I never thought your ego would get over you.” She stood up from the couch looking at me with disgust. “I always thought you could control it. But here you are.”

“What’s wrong in saying I want to earn, huh?” I raised my voice. “Why are you making a hill out of a mole?”

“It’s not only about earning, Satya. You need help. You think being a man means never needing help? I know you’re feeling low. But you don’t need to feel that way. I’m here.”

“Yeah, I have been feeling low,” I said, raising my voice, “But you don’t need to remind me. And you can’t do anything to help me.”

“I am just trying to help you.”

“STOP IT, Kalpana! I don’t need anyone’s help. I created the problem, and I will solve it.”

“Why are you screaming, Satya? What have I done?”

I could not stand her voice. I got off the couch and slapped her hard. She looked at me in shock as tears flowed down her cheeks. She then covered her face and started sobbing.

I immediately regretted hitting her and making her cry. I kneeled before her, grabbed her shoulders and said, “I’m sorry, Kalpana. I’m a bad guy, Kalpana.” I caught her hands and made her slap me, “Hit me, Kalpana. I deserve it.”

She pulled her hands and cried even more. I apologized many times. I tickled her and made attempts to talk to her, but she would neither smile nor talk. Furious at her and myself, I kicked the couch and barged out of the room. She did not stop me. I went to the roof and gazed at the stars thinking of the things I had done. I cried for a while. The night breeze helped me cool down. I don’t know how long I stayed there, but when I went back to the room, the lights were on, the TV was running, and on the bed, Kalpana was fast asleep.

We did not talk about it the next day. We haven’t talked about it yet. It’s too embarrassing, you know. But I know she still remembers that slap. She hates me. I can see it in her silence. And one day, she will kill me. I’m sure of it.

Part Two →