Short Story #005 : The Woman by the Window

The Woman by the Window

How beautiful is that woman who sits by the window! She gazes outside fixedly as if enraptured by the view outside, which I know is a dismal excuse for one.

Not once does her gaze shift from the point it is fixed on. Listlessly she drums her fingers on her knee then she rests her chin on her right palm, rests her elbow on the window sill, and leans out. Her entire posture reminds me of a soul in anticipation of release.

Somebody calls out to her. She has not heard and her closest neighbor taps her on the arm to get her attention. She is loath to leave her contemplation behind. She smiles a sweet smile to hide the annoyance. She says some words to the caller. The caller is satisfied, and leaves. She decides to turn to the window again but before she does she languidly sweeps the room with a steady stare. Her eye catches mine.

A smile unlike another spreads over her face, her two eyebrows arch upwards and she makes a movement to rise. I don't want to trouble this beautiful woman any longer, I move towards her. I have stood and watched her from afar struggling to find meaning in a room full of bores, now I must go rescue her.

These few minutes of quiet observation has provided me assurance of this woman's love. It may be for eternity.

“Hello,” I say when I am finally within her orbit, “How have you been?”

Our neighbours very kindly shift to let us sit beside each other.

“You kept your promise,” she says with a smile, “You came.”

I smile. How could I resist coming, when my prize was this look of love?

“You were looking so bored I couldn’t stop myself from coming to your rescue,” I say by way of preamble.

“Indeed!” she says surprised, “I am stuck here only because of my husband who sees it fit to amuse himself in this way. He enjoys the company of people, though he knows I don’t.”

“So he does, I know. He enjoys the company of each and every soul in this room and wonders why his wife is sitting in a corner by herself in a corner when she should be out mingling with her guests and enjoying herself.”

“Oh do let him wonder!” she cries exasperatedly, “It was his idea after all, to fill our drawing room with strange people and strange chatter, things I tire very easily of. Instead of taking me out to see a show or movie he has made me host this party on our anniversary. He must bear up with my mood just as I bear up with his.”

“Come, come, there must be a compromise somewhere. Say you will do as he says and in return he will do as you say and take you out to a show or movie or wherever it is you wish to go.”

“What an amiable solution young man,” she says pursing her lips, satisfied with my compromise.

“Hardly young, ma’am-“

“Oh young still,” she butts in, “I would not describe you as old. If you describe yourself as old what does that make me?”

I laugh. I know this woman well. There is something brewing beneath her placid answers. Something has happened to push her to a corner of my drawing room. Harsh words have been spoken to her and I must get to the bottom of it.

*

I go first to the side of my friend Alicia and tapping gently on her arm to get her attention I ask, “Why is Maggie sitting by herself in a corner?”

Alicia breaks off from the company she was busy with and looks at me in surprise. “I don’t know,” she says, “perhaps she isn’t in the mood.”

Hmm, I wonder. Not in a mood? Don’t I know all about that woman’s moods? No, today isn’t a mood. Today is the effect of a deep wound struck by someone who knows where it hurts. Who could it be and what could have passed?

“Who has she been talking to? Did you notice?”

“Not really,” says my friend.

I am plagued by the sense that someone has hurt my wife very badly and I cannot shake off the feeling that I must get to the bottom of the mystery soon enough before the people leave and I can do nothing about it. 

“All right,” I say, “Get back to your lot.”

I wade through the crowd.

I am stopped by a podgy outstretched arm. It is the arm of Mrs Gupta, a kind charitable soul.

“What is wrong with your wife?” she asks, “Why does she sit in a corner as though ostracized by her own guests?”

“I do not know,” I confess.

“She was talking earlier to Mina Iyer. I wonder if anything Mina said upset her.”

Mina?

My mystery has been half-solved.  

My wife has been talking to Mina Iyer. Mina the minx. The Mina whose tongue has been sharpened over time on a heart of flinty stone. Mina, the girl who walked out on me ten years ago to marry one of the wealthiest men in the country. The Mina I had struggled to get over.

What could she have said to my wife to upset her?

I spot Mina from across the room. She is as lovely as ever. Dressed in a beautiful black and white sari Mina Iyer is the cynosure of all eyes in my drawing room.

Tall, slender, and proud, she is the woman every person is secretly afraid of. Full of cutting observations and witty comebacks she is drunk on self-love.

Crossing her is the equivalent of suicide.

It’s hard to believe but I was once madly in love with her and so was she, at least that’s what she said. The relationship ended abruptly when she left me to marry Mayank Malhotra.

I go towards her. It has been my policy to extend a friendly hand towards all those who have hurt me in the past. I find that Life is too short to hold grudges for very long. In obedience to this philosophy I had invited Mina and her husband home to mark our wedding anniversary. I didn’t expect her to abuse the olive branch extended after a period of ten years.

“Mina,” I say, and take a drink from a passing waiter.

“Manuel,” says Mina imitating my tone.

It would be too mean-spirited of me to cut to the chase so I beat around the bush a bit.

“Enjoying yourself? How is the party?”

“Yes, actually I am. I didn’t think I would, but credit to your wife for keeping me entertained.”

A dangerous gleam shines through her eyes.

“Do you want to talk privately?” I ask coldly.

“Oh sure!” she says and the high note she hits grates on my nerves.

I lead her out onto the balcony.

“How have you been?” I ask.

“Not too well. Mayank lost a great deal of money at poker yesterday and took it out on me.

I look at her grimly.

“Look at me like that all you want and say that I told you so but I won’t pay attention. I made a mistake by marrying him Manuel and you know that. Now I must abide by my mistake or else exchange it for something better.”

She gives me a meaningful glance. I’m flabbergasted at her suggestion. How dare she suggest we rekindle a burned out fire? I do not hesitate to put her in her place.

“You’ve made your bed, whether you lie in it or not is up to you, Mina. I want to know what you’ve been telling Maggie.”

Mina’s eyes narrow and she looks at me as if she would love nothing better than to push me off the balcony for thwarting her advances. I don’t think the woman ever expected that I would dare to cast her off like an old coat.

“Maggie? Has she been tattling to you?”

“No,” I reply, “I knew it was a mistake to invite you.”

“She won’t be able to give you children do you know that?” she says spitefully.

I look at her with cold eyes.

“That’s what you wanted most in the world wasn’t it? You wanted me to be the mother of your children, do you remember?”

I did remember, but I wasn’t pleased to be reminded.

So that’s what passed between my wife and my ex.

Maggie must be heartbroken.

*

I do not go to comfort Maggie at once. I stayed on the balcony and watched Mina go back to the party.

The evening was a cool one for summer. A half-moon and a few faint stars marked the night sky.

Five years ago Maggie had been diagnosed with infertility and since then my wife and I have had to deal with the crushing fact that we may never have children.

You only get only one lifetime and what does that lifetime amount to without having raised a family of your own?

I let out a deep sigh and go back to the party.

My wife is exactly where I left her, and I go towards her.

She looks at me coming and her eyes narrow.

“Are you going to brood in a corner forever or are you going to have a jolly good time with me today?” I ask.

She smiles wanly. “You’ve been talking to Mina I see.”

“Yes, and I agree with you that sometimes Mina needs to have her tongue cut out. I can’t apologise enough for inviting her Mags, please forgive me. I took my goodwill a little too far I see.”

“I feel sorry for her,” says Maggie, “I heard her husband lost a lot of money at a poker game yesterday.” And with a shrug of her shoulders Maggie gets up. The black mood is gone and my wife is restored to pleasantness once again.

I wander around the drawing room for a while, greeting guests here and there till I spot Mina standing out on the balcony. Her back is to me. Quietly I sip my drink. She turns and I know she has seen me watching her.

Since I don’t go to her she comes to me, a mysterious smile playing on her lips.

“Has the cry baby been shushed?” she whispers in my ear.

“You need to leave,” I say coldly.

She is taken aback that I would go so far as to ask her outright to leave.

“You’ve changed,” she says as a final analysis.

There was a time when I would have never dreamed of telling Mina Iyer to leave my house. But today she has crossed a line. I turn around and leave her gaping after me.

Mina finds her husband and says something to him. Together they move towards the door. She shoots me a look of murderous hate. Her nascent love for me is that easily converted. How worthless it is!

I go and sit in the corner my wife had previously occupied. What is a married couple without children to cement their relationship?

I confess that I find them incomplete.

It is my turn to gaze out the window. This is something I have to accept no matter how hard it may be.

I look up to find my wife smiling at me. I look at her with tender compassion. Her eyes are shining with gratitude. Many unspoken words pass between us. They assure me that we are complete just as we are.