Once I Had a Wife

Yes, once I had a wife. I have one now too, but the one I once had is still the one I love. We have been divorced about a decade now, and we have some casual chats, but somewhere, deep down my entire entity, I wish she were with me still. Agreeable that she was, she accepted flaws in herself, and then condemned mine. But it had come like a bolt. I was rich, though I am way richer now, and my eccentricities that the world applauds, seemingly irritated her. And, oh, she was so good on bed.

In fact, now that I have two children -- a son and a daughter -- I know the daughter came in because all the while I was making love with my present, I swam in my past. It was her whose face and body drowned me into my intensity. I wish I could name my daughter after her, just so that I am able to call out the name as many times as I want. Which couple does not have differences? But I was (am) old-school enough to relate that love conquers all. If only she were here, she would go "tut-tut" at my fossil-beliefs. Or, my rather bad English. This is my fourth draft and I have taken the help of Google several times to change mym sentences into better sounding ones.

I contradicted myself in many ways, to think of it rationally now. While I wanted her to be the 'hep-wife' who would party and drink and drive andd play a sport, I also wished secretly that she did not go out to work, or cooked meals like my aunts or mother did. While I indulged her into the best of alcohol, I could not take her liking towards cigarettes. While I was glad she was earning, I would rather have her not earn and serve me breakfast instead. I encouraged her to paint, sing and hoped she would take me seriously, but she knew I was saying all that just so that she would remain a house-wife. I liked calling her "Wife." I don't understand why she disliked it. I wished to be a part of her friend-circle, but she was categorical about keeping things neatly packed as where they should be, and like a careful gardener, she would attend to each. This is her language, by the way. I was so impressed when she had explained herself in such a manner. I remember I wished to make love to her that instant! But the deadly D-word came up. 

I now have a wife, Anindita, who is exactly what I wanted Shirsha to be. Oh, that's what her name was. I mean, is. She cooks for me, manages me and the household and sings good too. She is a loving mother and caring daughter-in-law. Coming out of a bad marriage makes one doubly diligent I think. Perhaps, that is what has kept me and Anindita going. Else, it is still Shirsha all over. 

Especially now that we chat often, and I see her rising up the ladder, on her terms, I agree with her conditions. She would not be this person if she were with me. I would have loved her anyway, but now, from a distance, I love her even more. And that is my problem. I could never stop loving her, even while Anindita and I are great together, Shirsha is the invisible constant that works best -- the mere thought of her gives me a punch in the pit of my stomach. 

How I wish I could write, I still have my wife. But she would hate me for that. And I cannot risk that anymore. I miss her one-liners, and her orgasms. I miss her too much to risk the casual friendship we now share. I had gulped down more than I could swallow, and the burps continue to remind me of that.

Of Shirsha. My wife.