A respite of sorts...

The clock hands moved slowly towards 10. She kept up with the mundane chores around the house at a slow pace. It was both a pretence and an acquiescence of sorts towards the tasks which were her lot. She was up at 7 am, an hour later than her usual waking up time. In a fit of panic she'd prepared the lunch-boxes for her children. Bread and cheese for one, bread with Nutella for the other. No amount of persuasion helped change this. She could do this half-asleep as she did today, without her daily caffeine shot for the morning.

All too well she knew how this day was going to pan out. Cooking and cleaning seemed to be the raison d'etre for her existence. At least she continued stubbornly to remain a prisoner to this belief. Which she acknowledges again and again is unfair to herself and eventually to the family. She is still to reconcile to the nuclear family urban lifestyle which is nothing but fast spiralling to a Stepword Wives scenario where everything is orderly and proper, at least on the outside, right upto her painted toe-nails and ironed kitchen towels; whilst pushing the dust under the carpet like a lot of other things.

She looks at her ageing laptop with its cord unplugged. She contemplates the chores of home vis-a-vis roaming the bylanes of the Internet. The tabs are already open - facebook, blogger, hootsuite, feedly, twitter. A sundry other websites with information she ought to be reading - to be and appear up-to-date. Her last blog post was a long time ago. As was the walk in the nearby park. She ignored her decision to go slow with the sugar, and measured a generous spoonful into the cup with the tea. She used the time it was heating in the microwave to reach out to the biscuit tin and choose one large cookie- with bits of chocolate and nougat. The other day someone had pointed to her stomach and questioned baby? She had shaken her head in shock and dismay and had gone for a run in the park. That lasted only for that day.

Good habits and discipline remained distrustingly elusive despite many sporadic attempts. Just like the acquaintance who would not meet her eyes if she could help it. To maintain decency, each would nod, a very subtle fleeting acknowledgement. Today, when her husband had announced he would go to the gym at 10. And she could've cried with relief. The marriage was 8 years old - not old enough to not feel like ever. The whole last year he was semi-employed, sabbatical was the phrase used. But for the whole of last year she seemed to have been holding her breath. Her posture was contorted as was her outlook on life.

Even a reluctant home-maker sees the home as her space. The space from demands of the family for a few hours is the only benefit or concession she receives. In spite of the space they seemed to be stepping on each others' toes all the time. The more they were together, the more withdrawn and pre-occupied she became - reaching the innermost sanctum of her thoughts, and speaking to the voices in her head. Did her lips move at times, she wondered when she found him looking at her. She did not want to contain her needs and see to his, even to share them. She for once did not want to give or take. She at once liked and abhorred her selfish self.

Time away from each other was what she looked forward to. She dared not evade the nights when they lay coupled together, with a ear cocked for the kids. She went through it, sometimes a chore, sometimes a want - brief and reassuring that she was a human being, with needs. Only her heart watched as if from a far away place. Incommunicado.

He left, without saying goodbye. She shrugged, we take liberties from people we are close to. Did she not all the time? She plugged her laptop and today, allowed herself to lose in the otherworld. Some names and ids pinged at each other and exchanged banter and info. on nothing of importance. The clock moved faster this time and she heard his steps and the key at the door. She rushed to the kitchen to continue the pretence  from earlier and smiled her half-smile. He raised his eyebrows. The air was lighter, she felt a bit of relief. She wondered what was wrong with the chemistry of her brain and where they were heading to. The tea brimmed over her just-cleaned ceramic stove.....she rushed to clean the quickly drying mess ...another respite from her inane thoughts.