Till death do me apart!

“Passengers are requested to return to their seats, and fasten their seat belts,” the airhostess announced as the airplane encountered a minor bump. “We are experiencing turbulent weather. Please remain seated until the seat-belt sign is turned off,” she added.

I clung on to the seat… my seat belt was already fastened. Big rain-drops were crashing on the window pane, with occasional thunderbolts lighting up the sky. I was petrified.

“Don’t worry dear… we will be alright,” sensing my anxiety, the old lady sitting beside me said assuredly. “This is a Boieng 747 – one of the safest planes in the world,” she added with a twinkle in her eyes. I wanted to trust her and the credentials of the airplane – but the nervous me did not allow that to happen.

* * *

One year ago…

“Didi, didi… the baraat has arrived,” my young cousin-sisters announced the arrival of the groom excitedly as I sat dressed in my bridal attire, waiting for the marriage ceremonies to begin. The days of anxiety and nervousness were behind me as I had no choice but to get married to the man of my parents’ dreams.

“Rajiv has a good job in a government bank,” my mom had proclaimed while showing me a photograph of the fat, ugly man. “Plus, they have a big bungalow in Greater Kailash, Delhi… I am sure you will be very happy,” added dad. I looked at the evil smile on my parents’ face – all that mattered to them was to get rid of me as soon as possible, so that they could start seeking a wealthy girl to get my younger brother married off to. Having had dodged numerous marriage proposals brought in by my parents earlier, I had been given an ultimatum by them to finalize a groom within this week. I looked away from the picture of the prospective groom for me.

“Suchi… say something,” dad said placing his hand on my head. But his hand felt like an axe hanging over my head.
I was already 30 years old, with a very mediocre appearance. Over the past few years I had come to terms with the fact that my dream-man would remain a figment of my imagination, and nothing more. What right did I have to spoil my family’s life by staying put at their house?

“I am ready dad,” my nonchalant reply had sent celebrations flying through my immediate and extended family, and here I was today – getting married to that fat and ugly man.
I was walked towards the podium in no time. Rajiv was standing there with gleaming eyes and a big garland in his hands. I wanted to cry, but my eyes were surprisingly arid!

“Congrats didi… congrats jiju,” my cousins screamed and chattered around as the formal ritual of exchanging the garlands concluded. I do not have any other memories of my marriage.

* * *

“Ma’am, please put back your tray table,” the airhostess shook me to make herself heard and bring me back to the present. I looked at the tray table which had opened owing to the extreme roller-coaster ride that our airplane was going through. Locking back the table I asked her, “Is everything alright?”

“Of course ma’am! Please do not worry,” said the airhostess. But the edgy expression on her face said something else.
I hated liars, but could nonetheless understand that this was a part of her job – to prevent passengers from getting anxious during challenging times like this.

* * *

8 months ago…

“Are you lying to me?” I asked Rajiv.
“Of course not… why would I?” Rajiv replied instantly.

Since the past one month, Rajiv was coming late from office every day. His excuse used to be ‘year-end settlement work’, but that excuse continued even after the new year began. The last straw was when I called him up on his office telephone one day, and the peon had answered saying, “Sir has left for home two hours ago…”

After marriage I had been forced to give up my flourishing career by my parents-in-law. Staying at home, throughout the day I was expected to take care of all the tasks that a maid would have been possibly taking care of, before I came to their house. I had taken this behavior from Rajiv’s parents on my stride, hoping that I would at least get the love and respect of my husband.

“Then… how do you explain this?” I said extracting a printout of his personal emails and throwing it on his face. As he read through the printout, I saw the shade of his face transform to a beet-root red color.

“How… Where… How did you get this? I have no clue about this…” Rajiv lied shamelessly, throwing the printout on the bed. The beads of sweat appearing on his forehead disclosed his awe. I was prepared for this, and hence I switched on the computer and threw some light on my investigation.

Clicking on an application shortcut on the desktop, I said, “This is a password-saver application which I have set to run as a background operation in your computer.”
“I had stored all the passwords that you have entered in the last few days and have access to all your mail IDs now…” I explained. “That is when I bumped upon this series of mails with your love-talks with this lady named Sheeba,” I declared. Rajiv was stumped. Ten minutes of complete silence followed.

“I do not love you Suchi… my only love is Sheeba,” Rajiv broke his silence with this shattering piece of information.
“Then, why the hell did you marry me, you pervert!” I shrieked as I tried to avoid my tears from rolling.
“Sheeba is Muslim… my parents would have never agreed to me getting married to her,” Rajiv said. “I am sorry,” said he and left the room.
The whole world before my eyes went dark and I believe I fainted.

* * *

“This is your captain speaking…” the booming voice of the pilot alerted me. “Due to a drop in the cabin pressure, I am releasing the oxygen masks,” he said.

“Please do not panic. I repeat, please DO NOT panic,” concluded the pilot. The repetition of the words - ‘do not panic’ - ensured that the passengers in the flight started panicking immediately.

No sooner had the announcement concluded that the oxygen masks dropped from the overhead slot. Without further ado, I slid into my mask and started taking deep breaths with my eyes closed. I wondered what would happen next.

* * *

3 months ago…

“The day you were born to us, you brought with you a flood of ill-fate upon our family!” my mom said as she received me at the gate when Rajiv dropped me off to my house.

After fighting with Rajiv and cursing my fate for five painful months, Rajiv and I mutually decided that there was no future in our marriage. In these five months I understood that the only reason why Rajiv was trying to mend our relationship was, so that he could maintain his illicit relation with Sheeba. And, I could be the shield to cover his misdeeds from his parents. Unable to go on like this any longer, I forced Rajiv to apply for a divorce.
To save Rajiv from his parents’ wrath, he begged me not to mention about Sheeba to anyone.

The only way in which we could apply for a smooth divorce was to prove to both our parents that I could never conceive a child.
I agreed to this lie as I had nothing to lose. How could my condition be worse than my current wretched state – where I was stuck with a husband who was in love with another woman, and with a family who treated me as their maid? Rajiv arranged for the necessary medical certificates and his parents were convinced about the divorce on the very next day.

“Mom… I will soon find a job and move away from the house,” I said as I walked in and placed my suitcase in my room.
“How will that solve our problem?” mom screamed as she followed me to my room. “All our relatives, neighbors and friends already know about your divorce!” she stated. “How will I get a good match for your brother now?” mom expressed her biggest grief, planting a slap on her forehead.

The only good thing that I was looking forward to in my life at this moment was the new job that I had been offered by one of the software giants in USA. It was good to be financially independent again. The job was in Delhi, but I was expected to fly to USA for a one-month training initially.
But there was a flipside – the joining date was three months later. The very thought of staying at home for the next three months, and listening to the constant nagging of my parents scared the hell out of me.
I prepared myself for the stormy days that lay ahead, and the innumerable taunts from my parents that were in store for me.

* * *

Thud! The airplane shook a little too much for my comfort. I felt the need to throw up.

“Ladies and gentlemen… this is your captain speaking,” the pilot spoke again. I could deduce that the situation definitely was grave. “Please remain on your seats. We have been struck by lightning!” he said.

“Buzz… thud… Buzzzzzzzz…..” the announcements went silent and off went the lights. Looking out of my window I saw a huge flame on the wing. Smoke had filled the inside of the airplane too - people were screaming and babies were wailing. I could see that the end was near. The old lady sitting beside me clasped my arm tightly and started breathing profoundly. I kept on looking out of the window.

The fire on the wing kept on getting bigger and the clasp of the old lady on my arm went on getting weaker.
BOOM!

I saw a big flash before my eyes, and that was followed by a feeling of free-fall into the interminable darkness…

* * *

Yesterday…

Breakfast was grander than usual today. I wondered why. Dad and brother were already on the table, hogging down the food.
“Mrs. Sharma has offered a marriage proposal for your brother with her daughter,” mom disclosed. That explained the special food on the table.

My flight to the USA was in four hours and I had to report at the airport in an hour.
“That’s a really good news!” I smiled.
“Yes it is…” mom said. “Dolly is Mrs. Sharma’s only daughter, and the Sharmas have recently booked a big flat in Noida for her,” mom expressed her glee and patted my brother on his head. I speculated what my brother did to deserve that appreciative pat.

Dad smiled too. “What time is your flight?” dad asked shifting a small part of the limelight on me from my brother.
“I will leave right after breakfast…” I said.
“Suchi… we needed to tell you a small thing,” dad began. I looked up from my plate. “The marriage will be next month,” he revealed.
“But I am not in India for the next two months!” I exclaimed.
“No problem Suchi…” mom interrupted the conversation. “In fact the Sharmas did not want you to be present in the wedding, and we agree too,” she said heartlessly.
“I hope you understand…” said dad as he walked up to me and stroked my head.

I did understand. I understood that I was an immaterial part of my own family. I understood that I was synonymous to ill-fate for them. I also understood that my parents wanted to avoid the trouble of listening to the wagging tongues of the so-called ‘society’ on the special day of their only son.
I brushed aside dad’s hand, picked up my suitcase and walked off from the house – away from my family, away from my home, away from my city… towards my two-month USA trip.

* * *

I opened my eyes to discover a low, conical ceiling above my head. I looked around to further understand that I was lying inside a make-shift tent.

“Sister… sister… she has come to her senses,” I heard the scream of a young girl sitting beside me. I looked at her smiling face, and then towards the flap-door which opened and a middle-aged nun entered.

“You are God’s blessed daughter… he saw you through this difficult time,” the nun said smiling at me.
“Where am I?” I asked with some effort.

“You are at the volunteer relief camp in Morocco,” the young girl exclaimed in exhilaration. “The waves washed you to the shore two days back, and sister heeled you,” she added pointing towards the nun.

I sat up and stretched towards the bottle of water on the side table. “Let me get that for you,” saying this, the nun picked up the bottle, poured some water in a glass and helped me drink it. I took the glass from her and helped myself.
As I put the glass down, my eyes fell on the newspaper on the table. The headlines read: ‘New York bound Western Airlines flight crashes in the Atlantic Ocean!’ I recalled everything gradually. I was in that very flight.

“Where are you from?” the nun asked me as I picked up the newspaper to read more. “Give us the contact details of your family and we will inform them that you are safe.”
Without paying heed to her statements, I continued reading the newspaper article. Apart from other details, the article said: ‘Unfortunately, all 139 passengers on board were killed.’

So… now I am officially dead. Dead in the eyes of my family, dead in the eyes of my country, dead in the eyes of the whole world! The voice inside me said, “Suchi… this is your chance to begin your life all over again. Let you be dead for your family – they will not even mourn your death in any case!”

“Where are you from? Where is your family?” the nun repeated her questions.

“I am sorry, but I do not remember anything,” said I.

* * *