The weather was stormy for the whole week. The shop was closed, as it was too cold to venture out. The three of them stuck in that old house together. Out of the three, only Disha seemed to be spirited. Gemma was listless and Tara was busy showing her disapproval. She had expected Gemma to talk about Disha’s dad. However not a single word was forthcoming from Gemma. What could she say anyway? There was nothing to say. Disha was hers alone. No one could claim her and take her away. Gemma preferred and wanted it that way. Disha would be told the truth after a few years when she was old enough to understand. Children adapted well to all situations. They accepted easily enough. One had to love them unconditionally. Gemma loved Disha with her whole being, with all intensity.
No other love could compare with that. Love had so many manifestations. Nevertheless, love for a child was above everything else. Gemma had known passion, thrived in it. Finally lost it. She did not regret anything. One had to move on. She had too without looking back. Heartache had no place in your life when you had a small kid to consider. Same was the state with Gemma. She had retreated into this unknown place due to Disha. Now she had to get back to the mainstream for Disha. They could not hide here forever. Tara was right. Disha had a right to know her family.
Gemma too had to reclaim her old life. She used to paint and write poetry. It seemed so long ago. She had aspired to publish a book of poetry. Everything that happened in between seemed like a dream. Although it was not. Disha was no dream. She was a reality and Gemma was very proud of that fact.
Cooped up in that house in that drab weather was not healthy for either of them. They were all brooding in one way or other. Tara showed her anger by banging dishes. Gemma went even more silent. Disha was throwing tantrums more often. The situation was tightrope waiting to explode. Gemma could feel it in her bones. She had mentally calculated their financial situation. She was waiting for the time. She had to sell this house and give over the shop. Only then, they could get out of here. Go where? She sighed. There was only one place. She was sure of her welcome. No questions, only plain acceptance and love. Pouring love. Question would come but judgements would not be made.
‘Tara, would you mind leaving this village forever?’ Gemma asked.
‘You thinking of leaving it? And you want to take me with you?’ Tara asked bluntly.
‘Yes. I cannot think of leaving you behind. You are my family. You are Disha’s granny. We both want you with us.’
‘No, I don’t mind. I only have you two as family. No one else. There is nothing for me if you go away. When do I start packing?”
‘Not so soon. We have to sell this house. Moreover, the shop. Money is important if we have to start from scratch. I cannot let you two starve. Me, I can go with out food.’ Gemma said with a slight smile.
Tara chuckled and then sobered up, ‘you know, I have a little of my own. You can use that.’
‘Yes, I know. I will if we need it. I promise.’
‘Thanks.’
‘I am hungry. This weather makes me very hungry.’
‘I am glad. You have hardly eaten anything lately.’
All of a sudden, the tense atmosphere had lightened. Both women felt better. After dinner, they sat down in the rug in front of the fireplace to watch TV. It felt so right. Gemma got out her book. Tara settled down to knit and Disha fell asleep just as promptly.
Gemma had an urge to write. She got up and fished out her old journal. She flipped through it. Unknowing tears fell on the yellowing pages. She could not believe she had written those words. Her pen moved and words poured yet again. Her blocked thoughts flowed on to the pages. With no beginning, with no end. Writing came furious and fast. Disjointed at first. Linear after a while. Curved yet again. Words could make, words could mar.
Thoughts make us, thoughts break us. Those had made Gemma stronger. She stopped writing, looked at nothing, and retreated into herself to give in those memories, which she had kept, tightly locked in her mind. She seldom gave in to those. Tonight, her writing had been a catharsis, releasing those dead emotions. Getting those out in the open..
Sometimes she wondered. Why had she given up her comfortable job and come here taking in Disha’s responsibity? How could she not? It was in her agenda always to be a mother to a girl. Disha had fulfilled that desire.
Gemma got up and stretched. Walked around the room. Brr! It was cold. Wind was howling. Storm was brewing yet again. More rains, more cold. She checked on Disha, Tara had fallen asleep on the rug too. She picked up Disha, woke Tara and all three went up to retreat for the night.
Gemma fell asleep as soon as she got into bed.
Slowly a hand touched her hair, cupped her neck, bending over her kissed her mouth. She opened her arms and held him closer. Felt that strong lean body with her fingers, so familiar yet so strange. She purred when he touched her. Moving closer, she let him. He was the only one who could touch her this way arousing her just by his kiss. Passion with him came so fast and was intense. There had been no one else who could do that. She came alive in his arms. She saw life in his arms. She saw death in his rms. Her love for him had no end, no beginning. A circle. She traced her fingers on his smooth back. Yes, she had pulled off his shirt. Her caftan was undone too. When he drew circles on her belly, she fell apart. He knew how to push her buttons. His hands were all over her. Touching her everywhere. She moved restlessly against him, needing him, wanting him. It had been so long. She was ready for his possession. He too was as ready. He could never hide his need from her. She sighed deeply, blindly reaching for him, urging him. And woke up. She sat up with a start. She was alone.
That dream had been very real and very vivid and had come after so long. Why? She had not been thinking of him. Her only thoughts were about Disha. Was it a sign/ an omen? Did he ever think of her? The way she did?
She got up and got herself a glass of water. Going over to Disha, she pulled the cover, which she had kicked. Sleep was far away. Her body had remembered the passion I had experienced long time ago. Now Gemma lead a life of a nun. She was simply not interested in any relationships.
She got to her bed but did not lie on it. She simply stared at the darkness. His images coming to her. Tall, lean with muscles. Dark eyes, strong jaw line, dark hair. Brooding, intense and passionate. He loved with all his might and hated too the same way. He had shown her his passionate side, vulnerable side. No one knew him as deeply as she did. She had loved him so much but had to live him. She instinctively knew that he would have loved Disha. There was no question of not loving her. The bonding, which should have come due to Disha, had broken them apart.
Rain was hammering like he thoughts in her mind. No letting up. It was not normal for this season. Winters had come early because of the rains. As a child, she had always like winters. She loved to dress up in layers. Now, it was not so. Winters scared her. It brought sniffles for Disha, She had asthmatic problem. That had to be taken care of. Doctors had said Disha needed constant medical care. She was provided that even though I was a small village. Medical facilities were good. Gemma was always grateful for small mercies.
(1397 words)
Filed under: Novel excerpt | Tagged: nanowrimo, Novel excerpt
