The fairy lights

Gunjan knew she wasn’t the same woman she used to be – her ambition, her freedom, even her way of thinking had been altered right to its very DNA. And though it had happened slowly and steadily, it seemed as if had all changed overnight. And it was Manav who was responsible.  The day she met him had been an ordinary one – there was a crowd of people around them, and there had been no love at first sight. In fact, they were to different to even think about a life together – let alone live it. But yes, there had been plenty of conversation, plenty of laughter, and plenty of shared silences as they stared at the twinkling fairy lights that stretched across the length of his windows after sharing a joint. Life had seemed perfect that night, and it was an inevitable path that nature took when Manav leaned over and kissed her. She hadn’t questioned it, because things were sublimely perfect – everyone was nice, everything was beautiful. They went for long drives, and marveled at many sunsets at secluded beaches. They climbed mountains and sipped tea watching the clouds floating with them. Every day was a party, a celebration of life as it should be – light and airy, with no worries and no cares. It was just twinkling fairy lights all the way.

Until the other day. Gunjan sat in the waiting room of the gynecologist and was struck by the fact that she had never done much of this in her 30 years. She had only been to the doctor twice I her life, and both those times, he father had held her hand. Once when her leg had got tangled in a cycle’s tire, and another time when she poured a cup of hot tea all over herself. She was just 8 years old, and she had burnt a map of India on her chest. She missed her father. She missed her mother as well. But thinking of her mother scared her. She had always thought the next time she came to the hospital would be because of her mother. Her mother, who had lost the will to live, and was slowly disintegrating into a mass of bones. She grimaced, and felt tears, but was interrupted by the merry voice of the doctor. “Gunjan, come in, I have some great news.”

The news was great, but for whom? A child was expected, said the doctor. Really, but wasn’t she herself a child, thought Gunjan. Could she really have a child at this point in her life? But what point was she at? She didn’t have a job, and she didn’t have any worries – except this one. So maybe she was ready. As she sat in the taxi, her face getting burnt under the hot Mumbai sun, her sheer cotton kurta sticking to her back, she pulled out a joint she had made in the morning for such moments, and put it to her lips. And as she lit up, she realized why she already hated this child – she threw away the joint.

At home, Manav was sprawled across the floor, thinking of things that inspired him – a well shot movie, a violent moment, a beggar, a fat lady – they were all fodder for his fertile and perverse imagination. He puffed at his rolled cigarette and felt ideas form in front of his eyes, he felt them flowing through his veins, actually he could see the writing appear under the skin of his forearms. He suddenly remembered the first time he had seen Gunjan high. She has sworn to him, she could see ideas flowing out of her fingers, flying in the air. She had talked about unmentionable thing, unimaginable things. It had been love he had felt for her then, just the way he felt for her now. He heard the keys jingle in the front door and he smiled – for a change, there was no one else at home. Maybe they would make love right there in the middle of the drawing room. He smiled as she came in and she frowned. “Once again he was sprawled out as if he had nothing else to do. When was he going to get a move on? The house was so dirty, maybe he could have cleaned.” Her mind was also running some parallel thoughts. “She had never ever thought like this before. What was wrong with her? Who cared about cleaning the house? These were worries of less interesting, less creative people. Why was she behaving like this?”

“I am pregnant,” she said

“Oh,” he managed to get out. Damn, he had to work on his reflexes, “really, that’s lovely”

“And I have to stop smoking. And so do you.”

He couldn’t get what she was saying. Something about them stop smoking. Could she be serious? Why did they have to? What was the connection between a baby and smoking, for god’s sake? He stood up and faced her, “what?”

“We have to stop smoking—smoking cigarettes, smoking joints – we just have to stop smoking.”

“Well, we can do that. Didn’t we always say, it’s us who are the masters of the joint, not vice versa. But why do I have to?”

“Because we have to do it together. How can you even ask me this question? What’s wrong with you? Did you think I would be dying here carrying your baby and you would continue on with your life?”

Manav could feel his high coming down. And suddenly a great fear descended over him. This is how it was going to be. They had never fought ever before, never raised their voices. She was going to be a typical wife now, and he, a typical husband. It was finally going to be all too real.

“What are you thinking about?”
“Do we have to have this baby? I don’t want things to change.”

Gunjan felt a wave of relief wash over her. She was glad he had suggested it. If this baby went away, they could go on with their perfect lives, and it was all okay. They needed only each other to survive. Why did they need a baby to make them feel complete? It was the 20^th century, for god’s sake.  It was a good idea, letting this baby go. And anyways, he wouldn’t know what he missed. He was hardly even a lump right now. It didn’t matter and it was no crime.

“Babies change everything. We don’t need that now. Aren’t I enough to make you feel like a woman?”

She smiled and reached for her phone, “doctor, I need to come in for an abortion.”

The abortion took only an hour, and she felt fine afterwards. The hospital room was sunny and she could see the brilliant blue sky outside. She was itching for a smoke, she needed to get out of here. Manav was on his way to pick her up. She had told him to roll a joint for her, so she wouldn’t waste any time. The doctor had looked at her strangely when she had told her reason for the abortion -- A look that said, I know why you really doing it. Gujan smiled a nasty smirk, and wondered what would have happened if she had told the doctor her real reason – that she didn’t want to give up all that she loved, and become a dried, old, boring creature they called the Bhartiya Nari, like the doctor herself. She was Manav’s muse and he was hers, and that’s how they would live, forever. The doctor entered and she looked at her and smiled. Thank God she was going home.

Her bedroom smelt of the roses Manav had bought. They stood in a broken glass he had swiped from the kitchen. She lay down, she felt sleepy. “Thank you for doing this. Our life is back to normal and it will be perfect.” He shut the door softly and he was gone. She smiled and opened her purse, and took out the white sheet the doctor had handed over before she left. There was a lot of medical jargon on it but all the words, except one, were blurry. All she could see was that one word – Cancer. She tore the paper into small bits and watched them fly out of the window. Cancer had turned into confetti – she laughed at her own joke.  She lit up the joint and turned on the fairy lights. They were twinkling.