Guilt II

“My apartment is just a few blocks down. You want to go?”

Her hands were sliding down his thigh and he knew what the invitation meant. None of his friends were around and no one would even notice that he was gone. He could make up a story that he left because he had a headache and nobody would give it a second thought. Her fingers were on his fly now and he felt the surge of blood. He tried to erase the one image that wouldn’t leave his head – that of his wife.

He looked down at her fingers, then her hand, her shoulders and her face. She couldn’t have been over 25. He was on the wrong side of 30. He had been flattered when she asked him for a dance. The guys had hooted and pushed him towards the girl. She had seen the ring on his finger. She knew he was married, she didn’t seem to mind. He had felt a little hesitant in the beginning, but he was having fun after a few songs. He hadn’t felt guilty then. He was, now.

He heard the sound of a zipper being lowered – his zipper. He had to make a decision now. A voice somewhere said it couldn’t even believe he was contemplating it. He had been married for ten years now; he had been in a relationship with her for almost 15 years. What the hell was he thinking?

“Are you coming?” She sounded a little irritated. He didn’t realize his face had been a blank for over a minute now. She tugged him on his pants and pulled him behind her. The decision had been made when he was trying to make a decision.

They tumbled on her bed, nuzzling each other. He slipped off her gown and reached behind her for her hooks. He dug into her breasts and heard her moan. She pulled him up and their lips met. And he froze.

“I don’t care if you sleep with someone, honey. Just so long as you love no one but me, I don’t care.”

He heard her voice ring through his head.

“Stop being stupid. I can’t even think about being with some one other than you”, he heard himself saying.

“But of course, I will have to kill her.”

He heard her laughing and him joining her. It had been fourteen years ago. Had it been that long? They were kids then. What was he now?

He found himself on the floor, wildly grabbing for his clothes. He was still dressing when he left her apartment. He hadn’t said a word to the girl. He felt sorry for her, but he couldn’t think of anyone else now.

He tumbled down the stairs and out the building. The fresh air hit him hard and he hung on to the side of the building, as his body started retching.

Existence

The feeling of loneliness hit him suddenly and left him grasping for air. The room seemed to suddenly close in on him. He could see the walls moving closer and closer. The dull throbbing at the back of his head got louder. Images of people started flashing in front of him. His first girlfriend, his high-school friend, his boss, his mother, his 4th grade teacher… and as more and more images kept flashing, the lonelier he felt. Where had all these people gone? Where have his friends gone? Did he ever have friends?

He wanted to cry out aloud. He looked at his phone lying on the bed. He wanted it to ring very badly. The need to be wanted tore through his body and he felt himself being ripped apart. When he opened his eyes he realized how pathetic his entire existence had become. He wondered if he could stoop any lower. He searched for the once proud ego, though he knew it was futile. In his effort to please everybody he had lost his self.

He was no longer alive. How can one live without his self? But wasn’t he living proof that it can be done? But then, how do you define living? Was he living? Was he alive?

As if to confirm his lack of existence, his body refused to move. He sat there numb, hands across his folded feet, the tears now flowing uncontrollably. What has he become, the faint trace of an ego asked him? What had made him what he … he couldn’t say the word “is”, as it would signify his existence, which he could no longer acknowledge.

He forced himself to lay back and he slowly closed his eyes.

Guilt

She made her way back to the window again and looked out casually. She turned away sharply, irritation clearly written all over her face and sat down in front of the clock. Kumar said he will pick her up at eight and it was ten past. But she can wait, she thought. She had waited almost two years for this one meeting. And she was hoping that he will give her enough information to bring the plant down. And then, hopefully, all this will be over. The threats, blank phone calls in the middle of the night, slashed car tires. She was not afraid. But she wanted all this to end. She had something more to look forward to now, she thought as she ran her hand fondly over her slightly bulging belly. But she had been very afraid for him.

She looked up to see a figure slouched over a table reading something as if it was the last thing he would ever read in his life. Her husband, the lawyer. He had been almost killing himself with work over the last year. And she did not blame him. She did not earn a lot of money, the paper did not pay her much. But he understood why this was so important to her. He had been paying for most of her trips. And with the baby coming, he was working for three people now. And it had started to show. They were hardly ever home at the same time and even when they were conversation always revolved around work. Somewhere in the last one year they had lost themselves in their work. But he had been so happy when she had told him about her pregnancy. He had made time for every single doctor appointment. Those trips to the doctor were the closest to how things had been when they had just married.

She wished she had been honest with him. But she had promised herself that she would tell him once all this was over. She wished she had not slept with Kumar. It was a moment of weakness, a moment of need. It was something both of them had regretted later. She had never even thought about carrying someone else’s baby, but she was. She had not told anyone, not even Kumar. She looked at her husband again. But she had to tell him. Once this was all over, she promised herself again.

As she looked up at the clock again, she heard a car pull up below the window. She walked quickly to it and saw Kumar wave out, indicating to her to come down. She nodded to him and walked towards the door.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

He was looking at her intently from the table. The light seemed to fall on his eyes alone, casting a shadow over the rest of his face. His eyes looked a little moist and a little red. Had he been crying, afraid for her? She had never seen him cry before.

“You know I have to. And Kumar is going to be there. I should be safe …”

“… with him. I know. I wish I could stop … ”

“It will all be over tonight. I promise.”

“I know.”

“I will see you soon. I love you.”

He did not reply. He watched her go out the door and the door close behind her. He was lost for a minute and when he recovered, his eyes were suddenly clear. If she had seen them now she would have been equally surprised. It was almost as if he had fallen asleep with his eyes open. He searched for his lighter and found it behind the ash tray. He picked up the document he was reading and held the lighter to it. He watched it burn slowly in his hands and then dropped it in the ash tray in the last minute before the flames licked his fingers.

He picked up his cellphone and slid open its back. He removed the battery and pulled his simcard out. He fished into his pocket and pulled out another simcard. He slid it into his phone, placed the battery and slid back the top. He looked down at the little piece of paper fluttering on his table and dialed the number on it.

“Forest Grove Apartments. Number 217. Half an hour.”

He put the phone down and looked at the door again. He wished he had been strong enough to stop her, strong enough to forgive her.

* * * *

“Sudha Raman had been investigating the Prudent Chemical Company. Her articles had brought them a lot of bad press and their stocks had tumbled in the last 6 months. The state government has been contemplating setting up a committee to investigate their operations and she would have been a very important witness at the hearing, if there will ever be one now. But the interesting twist is that she was found in an apartment with a man. Was she doing her job? Or was she with her lover? The DCP earlier told reporters tHer husband, Raja Raman – a lawyer, has been picked up for questioning and is one of the suspects. Is this a cold blooded murder by a ruthless company? Or is this a crime of passion? Only time will tell.”