Not now... Not ever...

It woke me up... She was shouting at me.. and was weeping... I had hardly closed my eyes for a few minutes...
I saw her sitting on her coir cot, holding her walking stick, a brown wooden one. She was shouting at me, mumbling a lot of things which I failed to understand.  I was lying on the floor. She had thrown me out from the bed. It took me a while to understand what was going on...

She was special...

I know her from the time she lost her legs...

She must be around six then... She was bed ridden and except for me and her mother there was no one for her... but I was always there with her... We talked a lot of things and shared a lot of secrets. For almost six years I was her only companion. I was pretty sure she was bored with me by then. There was nothing left to talk. No secrets left to share. One day she came to me and told me that she wanted a friend. One who could take her outside... One who could show her the world...

It was one of those boring days... this new boy came to our house... He was around sixteen. As he walked past the window, she shouted, 'doodh andar rakh ke jayie...' as she usually used to shout to our doodh wala.  But he was new.. He came inside and kept the milk bottle on the dining table. Instead of going back as she had ordered, that rascal was peeping through the curtains to have a look at her. He had a wry smile on his face. To be frank I was angry... She had asked him to keep the bottle inside... not to peep through curtains. I was about to give him his due when I saw her smiling...
I understood, she had got her new friend.

This peep business must have continued for a week or so... till one day when he had the guts to come inside our room. He started talking to her as if I was not there at all... She was asking him where he lived, what he did in his spare time, about his studies, the games he played, places he visited, about the near by stream and the fish in there... There were many things that she had to know and he was more than willing to tell... He started frequenting our home. He would come in the morning with the milk bottle and leave only in the evening, or some times when his dad came asking for him... He told her that he had finished his 12th and was going to join his father's workshop. Also since he does not have to study any more, he will be with her all the time... No one in our home disliked him. He would come in the morning, help in giving her food, help her in doing her exercises, read her newspaper... He more or less had become a member of our family.

One day, he came with a particular kind of walking stick, it had wheels and all.. He declared that with that and some help she could now get outside of the room and roam around a little. I could see her trying to hide her happiness... She did ask me to join, I chose not to go... It was their moment....

When she came back, she had this triumphus look on her face. She had gone outside for the first time in almost seven years. Now she wanted to go out every day and he was more than happy to take her out. She would say there, he would take her there, she would say that, he would get her that..

It had grown beyond friendship. He enjoyed so much being the go to guy for her. He wouldn't let her even move. She should just order and he would do that for her... I guess that was the happy part for him..

I have wondered why he would love a girl who could not even do her own basic stuffs. She was dependent on him for anything and everything and he was madly enjoying this dependency. I have more than once tried to warn her that this love might fade away as time passes and her orders would turn to pleads. This love might turn to pity. But she had a challenging tone to her when she told me that she trusted him more than she trusted me... She was proved right. He seemed to enjoy this more and more as time passed away.
Instead, he would get angry when she tried to do something on her own. He had to be the go to guy.. He and no one else, not even herself.

One day he took her to the river bed. Looking at the setting Sun, he proclaimed that she was his wife. She laughed.. as she hardly understood what is to be a wife... but she knew since it was to be with him, she had nothing to worry. Next day, again he took her to the river bed. She chided him asking 'So husband, what shall we do. ?' He asked her once again whether she agreed to be her wife or not? She laughed and said 'why not?'

The next moment he tried to lift her skirt up. He said husband and wife are supposed to do like that.
 She gave him a tight slap and started weeping. Her mummy had told her that she should never let any one see those places. Those places were dirty... not to be shown to any one. She started crying out loud. He got  both sad and angry. For it was the first time he was seeing her crying. But then he was sure that husband and wife do things like that. Perplexed at her reaction he consoled her brought her home. But he did not come to our house for the next few days.. Must have got really afraid. What if she told this to mom?

When mummy asked my little girl why is he not coming these days, she told her what had happened. Mummy stormed out of our home to see his dad and asked him to have his son married to her daughter. According to her, his son has violated her daughter and now he should only marry her. Somewhere in her mind mummy must have known that this was probably the only way she could get her married. The marriage did happen a few weeks later and boy came to stay in our home now. Permanently.

My little girl got shocked that even on the night of the marriage also he asked her to do the same thing. I could hear her scolding him, ek baar daant mila.. kaafi nahi hai kya... ? Is baar aisa saja dilaoongi.. tujhe hamesha yaad rahega... saying this she started calling mummy...
When she came to me there were a few drops of tear on her cheek...
Seemingly her mummy had told her to obey him and not to create a scene.
I could see the anger in her eyes but I was helpless.
She understood that it was only him for her from then onwards... No one else.. Not even me...

After a few months, he had her checked up by a doctor and started taking the treatments suggested. There was improvement even though they were very marginal. Even now, he would take care of her as if there was nothing in this world beyond she and her needs... Cooking food, feeding her, bathing her, taking her outside, reading newspaper to her, scolding her every time she tried and struggled to do something on her own. He could never see her struggling. When he was there for her, why she should? After all it was his duty to take care of her needs.

Years flew by, and I was being proven wrong every day... The orders never became pleads and dependency never became a burden. Meanwhile, the treatment was also showing results. She was slowly able to move her legs. Once I heard doctor saying that with some exercise she should be able to walk and do her stuffs on her own... To every one's surprise and giving hope to all those paralyzed patients, after a few months she did walk on her own. Our happiness knew no bounds. He was happy too... Now they were to live a normal life... Normal life of a normal couple.

Things did change in our family after that. She started getting up early, getting him tea, making him food, doing all the household chores on her own.

She had years of debt to repaid. He had taken care of her for so long and now it was her turn. She tried to keep him happy in each and every way. Her love for him was almost turning in to a service. She would do anything to keep him happy. Years of debt to be paid back.

Was he happy ? Well, as far I know, he was not. I do not know why, but he found fault with almost everything she did. The tea was not good, food even worse. House was not clean enough for him, and it seems his clothes smelled like detergent after the wash.

Normalcy was taking a toll on their relationship.

I guess normalcy is the least appreciated virtue in the world. With everyone wanting to be special, being normal was never the 'in thing'.

And for them, who were always special, the special wife who could not move and the special husband who never let her feel the need to move, the transition to normalcy was a painful one.

I guess he was in love with the dependency, more than her. Being madly in love with the feeling of being needed he could never see the aspirations and dreams that she had within her. The dreams to be independent, to take on the world on her own. He had loved a disabled girl and was always was in love with the disabled girl. He couldn't understand why she was now ignoring him. For he was always there for her. Why is she now showing arrogance.

Normal fights started in their normal married life... He saw it as challenging him every time she walked on her own. He felt redundant. Not needed any more. He was loved. That I was sure. But he felt redundant. It didn't take much time for these normal fights to take ugly turn.

During one of the fights when she argued with him, he told her. 'I guess you do not need me any more, now that you can walk. That is why you are talking back to me like this. I should have never cured your legs. How happy we were when you could not walk'. Saying this, he got out of the house, took his bike and sped away...

I could see her silently crying. She came to me and told me that she was sorry that she ignored me for so long, that she had no one else and all that she wanted was to see him happy. She was cursing her healthy legs for all her misery and started beating them with the walking stick she had. She looked at me and told me that she was going to break her legs. She didn't need them. All she needed was him and his love.

I was confused. May be she was right. She didn't have them for years and they were having a wonderful life. May be her healthy legs were the problem. I didn't stop her. After some time she stopped beating her legs and started crying. I tried to console her. She told me that she wanted to sleep and I agreed. I watched her sleep for some time and it must be a minute or so, I had also fell asleep.

It woke me up... She was shouting at me.. and was weeping... I had hardly closed my eyes for a few minutes...
I saw her sitting on their coir cot, holding her walking stick, a brown wooden one. She was shouting at me, mumbling a lot of things which even I failed to understand. I was lying on the floor.  She had thrown me out from the bed.

She looked at me with disgust, and asked me, couldn't you have given me at least one. You took him away and my legs too... Hadn't I asked you whether I would get his love back if I break my legs. Hadn't I ? Tell me... Hadn't I? Why did you have to take both away... God... You Cruel God.. I should have never trusted you...

I do not know... I had just closed my eyes for a few seconds... I should not have... not now.. not ever...

I found that the photo frame in which she had kept me for so long had been broken in to pieces. She was now hitting at me with that wooden stick.

I was lying on the floor... broken in to pieces... May be this is where I belong... for I should not have closed my eyes... Not now, Not ever...